#dealing with Jack and his shenanigans

[imperatorrrrr]

Personally, I love that Nico Hischier consistently looks like he just woke up.

[leaveharmony]

@mangle-my-mind

See, I don't know if I can answer this without starting with Brian's reaction TO Jack, and to Curt.

Because I think Brian gets something fundamentally wrong about both of them, filtering them as he does through his own worldview and his own view of music and performance.

That is to say, that he sees a performance.

"I wish I'd thought of it," what is he referring to here, exactly??? During TV Eye, what is he looking at? Curt, dousing himself in oil & glitter, pogoing out of his pants so hard he falls on his ass, and committing some lowkey arson whilst probably tremendously wasted. Brian sees this absolutely raw, unfiltered mess occurring and seems to interpret it as contrived, emotion faked really well for the purposes of credibility. He hears the myths about wolves and shock treatment and the abuse (the latter two possibly true, but still heard first as gossip) and he thinks they originated with Curt, a brilliant piece of marketing, when in reality it's rumour constructed/repeated by people to explain what they are looking at (and do not understand).

And it's interesting that most of what he seems to admire about / openly steals from Jack, is even more hollow: the little entourage, the fashion, the position at court (so to speak). Jack is like...a choice boutique that just got a shipment in, and Brian loads his arms up and runs home to try things on. Because he wouldn't imagine that the bits he stole from Jack had any meaning other than 'It was pretty,' or 'He moved just so, and it was elegant without seeming artificial,' and 'They made me look adored.' Brian understands things like an entitled tourist understands ancient ruins; he doesn't think about the history or the meaning or the reason, he just carves his name in them, takes a selfie and walks away.

Jack - I think one of the reasons Curt is the recipient of that big delighted smile, is that Jack recognizes a kindred in him immediately and has probably been waiting patiently for an opportunity to speak to him (formerly being impeded on all levels from doing so by Brian / his secondhand hangers-on).

I know the idea is that ~Glam~ is artificial and meaningless, but in their case, I simply don't think it's true. I think that Jack and Curt, onstage, that is wholly their authentic selves, I don't think they're faking a damn thing, ~inventing~ a damn thing. They're...exactly the same at opposite ends of the spectrum, if that makes any sense.

Jack holds himself so closely because he's such a beautiful soul that people see him, and those who don't want to outright destroy him, want to cut bits off him to take home for themselves, which would leave him with nothing, at the end of the day. You can see it in his face, that it's happened a hundred times before; this is why he doesn't fight Brian off or give him the satisfaction of an angry reaction...it's nothing new to him. So we see him most open onstage, where he can show exactly who he is without being fucking...punished for it. Where he is even admired for it, but he has control over exactly what he is giving away. Jack channels himself onstage.

And Curt onstage is a fucking exorcism, letting himself off the leash somewhere safe to express what otherwise would come out as a four day bender and a spattering of charges for public indecency, assault and destruction of private property.

Jack reveals himself onstage to keep himself safe, Curt does it to keep everyone else safe, and that is their separate but identical way of coping with a world that has no idea what to do with them in any other context.

[evilminji]

You Know How There Are Those AU? Where SUPER Injured Ghosts Need To Retreat To Their Core?

No one seems to be USING that to its fullest potential! For SHENANIGANS! Because! Who?? Could POSSIBLY carry a Halfa's Core safely... but another Halfa?! A FULL ghost would KILL them. A human would be killed! What terribly precarious peril we find ourselves in! Oh nooooooo!

Well, no worry!

As much as Dani fuckin HATES this. That there is her brother. Her Template. Her Clone Daddy and Bestest of Bros. Like HECK she's gonna let him suffer for centuries and possibly DIE. She can take it, Doc! Pop him in! We'll go road tripping and-

What do you MEAN "No"?

Unstable??! Of course she's unstable! But the-.... Oh.

Turns OUT? Dani? Can hitch a ride in DANNY for Emergency Medical Aid... but NOT the other way around. Her body is too loosely held together. He would parasiticly consume her from within. Instead of feeding off her Ecto System like injured ghosts are supposed too, because she's a CLONE? AND an unstable one at that? His Core would just... see her body as free ectoplasm. All of it.

He'd eat her.

Which mean Frostbite can not and WILL NOT allow that.

But he's HURT! That big, off screen, cataclysmic Fight To Save Everybody From *cough cough mumbles* and settle us all in the DC universe, REALLY messed him up! What are we supposed to DO!? He can't STAY like this!!!

Enter-> My FAVORITE DCxDP Trash Ship! Vlad&Lex!!! *horrified screaming from the crowds, someone shouts "oh god, no! Please!"* Ha! There are no gods here, silly billys! Only two terrible, terrible HIGHLY Dramatic, self serving, incredibly damaged, gay peacocks. In Business Suits that cost more then your house is worth.

They're AWFUL~♡

And! Vlad was sent ahead to lay the ground work. Insure there would be no GIWs. Also because no one could stand him and his EXTENSIVE criminal record. But that's besides the point.

But!

You know what he found? A Business Nemesis. Who he routinely dates and/or Dramatically Hate Fu-*coughs* I mean, attempts a Corporate Take Over(tm) off. You know how it is. Business. He ALSO gets to make it no secret he's a "Meta", thanks to the INCOMPETENCE of one Jack Fenton, because that- *seething rant*

Yet? Dispite his STILL burning hatred for Jack? And his finally letting go of Maddie? You know what he STILL wants?

For Danny to be his Son.

*Gets a call from Frostbite*

...............soooooo........ what you're SAYING is..... I can be pregnant with Daniel.

You, Frostbite, need ME, Vladimir Masters, THE ONLY OTHER HALFA, to carry Daniel around inside my body, in what to all appearances resembles a pregnancy, in order to heal him. Because I am an Older And Stronger Halfa Upon Which He Relies.

:)

*instantly begins plotting*

Just? Imagine. Vlad is a FUCKIN LIAR. No one but him would even KNOW what was going on! He just? Rocks up one day, like? *falsely demure* "oh I couldn't POSSIBLY has any scotch, Lex! >:) I'm eating for Two~☆" and just? Deals the MAXIMUM amount of psychic damage he can.

Probably says it at their weekly, public, Veiled Threats Brunch.

It makes front page news. Luthor choked on his eggs. The paparazzi lost their SHIT. Vlad is doing the FULL Celebrity Mom Thing. The classes. The photo shoots. The Gucci sunglasses as he peruses high end strollers. All while HEAVILY suggesting that not only is "The Baby" Lex's.... but that he's going to withhold the child and deny Lex any access.

Danny isn't even aware. He's in a lovely lil medical coma. Dani is trying to find a good spot to plop down Amity. She just know Vlad is being... Vlad. Meh. He can handle it. Dan? He's not even IN the human realm and is not sure he wants to be.

But over in the LEAGUE? Everything's on fuckin FIRE.

Kon is losing his SHIT and Clark is thousand yard staring into the void. Kon's half brother is in the hands of a... Less Then Ideal... Meta that Batman is PRETTY sure is highly suspect. Might be a deliberate weapons experiment. Certainly is a hostage. And the DRAMA.

Lex has never been worse.

He might actually stab his...partner? Vlad. At the hospital. The SECOND the child is born. There are already long term kidnapping plans in the making. He's hiring lawyers. Getting VICIOUS. There have been talks with DEATHSTROKE. By BOTH OF THEM.

Clark wants to cry.

@hypewinter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @babbling-babull

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 11

More of a funny shenanigans one.

Danny has been chasing his rouges all throughout the country. Whatever city he is in some form of shenanigans occur. Due to the GIW he decided to do it human. He has his parents travel devices and inventions so it will be easy peasy.

Metropolis he steals some kryptonite and feeds it to cujo. Obviously cujo is coming as a guard dog. Danny can’t control him plus the dog could smell the ecto candy. Danny is munching some as well all while he soups whichever rouge it is.

Central city he bugs the flash about how he could mess with the flow of time. He thinks it’s cool and clockwork allows it cause it’s funny. (Clockwork let’s ppl figure out not to mess with time themselves. Danny leaned when vlad ended up with his mom and jack had ecto acne flash would figure it out) But he just tells it to Barry no care that he isn’t in costume.

Runs into wonder woman and is just an absolutely fanboy. Gushing. About everything she’s done. He drops knowledge about feats he shouldn’t know cause pandora told him stories about her.

Runs into Constantine and just praises him for his soul selling. It’s just chaos whenever the ghost council meets. Danny is a gremlin he got in a prank war with vlad he absolutely would think it’s hilarious. He knows a few beings who bought his soul as well and name drops them.

Youngblood wants to do an underwater adventure. He’s been a cowboy and pirate so why not underwater diver. So now Danny is in the ocean dealing with an enemy aqua man can’t see. Aqua lad is just describing Youngblood with googles on. Danny has a fenton work product letting him dive in the sea. Anything with Youngblood is a shenanigans enough said.

In Gotham he wasn’t expecting a not quite a halfa, red hood. Now when his rouge goes to cause property damage he goes to soup them. It sucks in red hood. Danny didn’t want red hood soup.

Danny then panics trying to release the thermos. All while the batfam are watching the exchange. Danny is frantically apologizing and just failing to open it.

By the time he gets it open he is just embarrassed. His rouge is free and took off. So Danny goes invisible forgetting he was supposed to act human and pretends it never happened.

The next justice league would be hilarious

[rebelliousstories]

Protector

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Ailments and Sickness

Word Count: 1,073

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Running a fever and having to deal with medical shenanigans is a recipe for disaster. Thankfully, a certain Cajun knows how to keep calm under pressure.

Consider Donating: Here

There was nothing fun about being sick, anyone will tell you that. What is worse is being sick in a home full of people with powers. And yet, no one can heal whatever ailment she had. It was ridiculous. She was not sick enough to go down into the infirmary, but just enough that she was staying hopped up on DayQuil and trying to rest as much as possible. But she still had tests to grade, and assignments to make, and none of this could be done from her bed. It had to be done at her desk so she actually got the work done.

“Ma cher, da Gambit is here. Where ya at?” Bumbling into their room with a card between his fingers and a new bottle of Jack Daniels, her boyfriend had come in. She tried to call out to him, but was cut off with a cough that revenged her throat.

“Oh, cher. Whatcha doin’ now, huh? You ain’t supposed to be up if you feelin’ like dis. Come on, to bed wicha.” He slid across the bedroom, and set down the objects in his hands in favor of helping his lover.

“No. I’m glad you’re back Gambit, but I’m fine, sweetie. I need to finish my work and then I can go to bed.” Remy leveled her with an unamused expression as she turned back to her work.

“How long you been workin’ at dat?” He questioned, coming over as he was still dressed in his suit. Taking off the long leather trench coat, the man ran a hand over her shoulder as she did not take her eyes off the pages.

“Ever since I finished my classes for today.”

“You did your classes today feelin’ like this? Mon amour, you must take care of yourself.” He pulled the fingers off of one hand and pressed it against her forehead. It was starting to feel clammy and hot; she had a fever coming on, and she was being too stubborn about accepting help for Remy’s liking.

“You’re burning up. Come now, cher. You go bed now.” But no matter how much he tried to move her, she remained stubborn and resolute.

“No Remy, I’ve gotta get my work done.” She protested.

“Yes. Come on.”

“No. I can’t take any time off.”

They went back and forth for a minute or two before the man releashed his touch on the woman and hung his head.

“Why won’t you just take some time to recover, cher? These can wait.” Remy, once again, tried to reason with her.

“No, they can’t!” She screamed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I’ve gotta-”trying to form the proper words to convey her frustration, her breath skipped. Once that skip happened, it was all over. Her heart began beating hard and fast. Her hands were shaking. She was hyperventilating. She was sending herself into an anxiety attack.

As soon as he recognized what was going on, Remy jumped into action. The other set of fingers came off, and soon he was wrapping her up in his arms. Pulling her into his chest, he began stroking her hair and trying to calm her down. Her tears continued to fall. They fatten with each passing second, and showed no signs of slowing. He showed no signs of letting her go, out of comfort. Which was the same reason she was clinging to him now.

But he just provided her the comfort that she needed in that moment. He slowed his breathing, and placed her head on his chest. Remy’s hand grasped one of hers, and rubbed soothing circles on her knuckles. She was starting to slow her breathing, following Gambit’s lead, and was letting out quiet sniffles as she was resting against his chest.

“There, there cher. You gon’ be alright,” Remy whispered, and pressed a kiss to her head. “Just let it out. You gon’ be just fine.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, “I’m just- I’m so overwhelmed. I hate being so sick. And I can’t think cause my head is all stuffy. I’m worried about getting droplets on my papers from coughing, but I’m more worried about coughing because I don’t want to spread this to the kids. But I need to finish these before tomorrow. I promised I would have these done by tomorrow.”

Remy’s heart broke at the sight and sound of his lover. Her own downfall was going to be her steadfast nature to stay ahead of her work for the school. But surely, this was not a matter of life and death for anyone.

“Dey’ll understand if you take a lil longer for how you feelin’. Come on, you not gonna do any good work like dis. Let Gambit take care o’ his cher. I make you a thing of Nawlens syrup. Best thing my mama ever make for me when I was sick.” With that, she finally conceded and allowed him to help her to bed. Remy sat her down on the bed, and turned to give her a pair of pajama pants. He set it down on the bed, averting his eyes from her, and only turned around when she tapped his shoulder. Gambit took her clothes and pulled back the covers as he watched her crawl in.

The man disappeared into the bathroom afterwards to change from his suit. He heard rustling from inside the next room, but felt better knowing that she was finally taking care of herself. Slipping into a cut off shirt and some sweatpants, Remy opened the door to the bedroom to see an adorable sight. His girlfriend was lying in the bed with her face smushed into the side of his pillow. Making his way to the bed, Gambit felt bad for disturbing her, but it must be done. He grabbed her and realized that she was already fast asleep.

Remy sneaked underneath her on his side of the bed, and replaced the pillow with his own chest. She moaned, squirmed, but ultimately resettled in her new spot. While she drifted off, Remy stayed up for a little just watching her sleep. He was always going to be there to tell her to take a break. He was always going to be there to take care of her. Even if she did not understand why he did or said what he did or said, he knew why. Everything was done to keep her safe.

[impyssadobsessions]

DPXDC PROMPT Vlad Hired the Wrong Guy

Vlad decides that perhaps a ghost can't do the job right anymore -though as much as Vlad would have loved that to be the fitting end for Jack- so he hires an assassin instead to finally put the end to this.

He hires the best. Deathstroke.

Slade however decided to take a liking to the little hero. So when Slade succeeds in his mission (or not if you want to pull some plot shenanigans) he ends up taking away something far more valuable to Vlad.

Danny. Now Imma put my thoughts below but y'all can take this anyway you want >w< <3

I can see Vlad giving Deathstroke weapons to fight/capture Danny too- not kill him though he probably can't even imagine that would be possible- with order to strictly kill Jack and maybe make it look like Phantom did it. (For some extra spice ;3) Phantom was able to fool some of Slade's attempts- but in an all out brawl- Slade wipes the floor with Danny. Danny being slung around like a rag doll, taunted, and mocked. He doesn't stop fighting which just amuses Slade more. Eventually there first fight gets interrupted (cause I imagine it was in the lab) probably be Jack and Maddie coming into the basement- but Deathstroke was able to hit Danny with the belt- forcing him to change before vanishing himself. So Danny gets "grounded" from the lab- even though he tried to play it off as a ghost attack- which made it either worse or better for him. His parents going protective mode- when he's trying to figure out how to save them. Only for Deathstroke to be in his room one day, looking for a "chat". Danny's not having it and tries to fight him only to be captured by one of Vlad's devices. Danny recognizing it. "You-You're working for Vlad!" "Oh ho ho, So you do have some brain cells that isn't used just for puns?" "Why!?" "Money. And a few unique toys." Slade tossing an ecto-ray in his hands. "I'm an assassin. I had assume you didn't need to be detective to figure that one out." Danny struggling against his bindings. Panicking. "You can't- Vlad-..." "Oh I definitely can. He is not the hardest target I had to hit- though I must admit you're an annoying obstacle." "I won't let you!" "I don't think you're in a position to stop me." Slade pressing a button to shock Danny before he a new power to escape. The shock forcing him to revert to his Human form. Imagine Deathstroke taunts Danny more. About what he is- about his parents hatred of ghosts. "Even if you save them- they would hate you. Shame." "You're not the first fruitloop to tell me that." Can see after Danny impresses him one more time- and Slade finds out Vlad is also a half ghost. I can imagine Slade finds a way to force Danny to join him. Whether its by succeeding in killing his dad and manipulating Danny into learning out to take revenge- Or by blackmailing/threatening to follow through but not just kill Jack/ but both his parents- saying he'll teach him how to REALLY fight. Even saying that with his help, he'll make sure Masters won't bother him again. Just all the manipulating. Danny at wits end might take it. Can see Vlad being FURIOUS- but now Deathstroke has weapons to not only HARM/KILL him-he ALSO becomes Danny's mentor. Vlad being the one to contact heroes he knows have history with Deathstroke... framing it as him taking away his godson. Maybe purposely sought out Nightwing. Unknowingly damning himself more as Nightwing will find out Vlad was the cause to all this- AND if Danny gets rescued/gets out of his deal- he'll have hero friends to rely on.

I just love the idea of Slade and Danny dynamic. Especially since Danny not only similar to Dick, his phantom form also looks similar to Respawn. I just think its neat XD And be a damn terrifying threat to Danny.

[sister-lucifer]

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest. 

Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!

The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:

“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.

Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it. 

“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold. 

“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation. 

“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it. 

“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.” 

“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?” 

You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t? 

You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself. 

“How about…a clean fifty?” 

And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away. 

Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all. 

You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours. 

As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today. 

Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep. 

That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember. 

You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf. 

What were you so scared of? 

That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare. 

A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon. 

However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you. 

The glass door of your shelf was open. 

Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.

But we all make mistakes, don’t we?

That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident. 

When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered. 

It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual. 

First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself. 

As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen. 

You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you. 

Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late. 

You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner. 

You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day. 

This was certainly unusual behavior. 

That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing. 

He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway. 

He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to: 

You. 

What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more. 

It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him. 

You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance. 

Yeah, sure, that made enough sense. 

By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded. 

At least you had until you stepped through the door. 

The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home. 

You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.

No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare? 

You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation. 

Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch. 

You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened. 

Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped. 

You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut. 

Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that. 

The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking. 

Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock. 

You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted. 

Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up. 

Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—

The shelf is open again. 

The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own. 

The box has moved on its own. 

You were suddenly feeling light headed. 

You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.

No such luck. 

You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it. 

It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security. 

“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you. 

Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy. 

He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up. 

He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time. 

Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it. 

When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe. 

For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again. 

For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play. 

For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either. 

The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.

God, they never stopped. 

They were almost all the same: 

You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you. 

Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell. 

On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could. 

He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one. 

Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you. 

Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around. 

It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough. 

But that was okay. 

He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it. 

That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before? 

And why, God— 

Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?” 

The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.

The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge. 

It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it. 

It was a hand. 

A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box. 

A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body. 

You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold: 

Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.

There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked. 

That…thing from your dream was hovering over you. 

Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous. 

Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down. 

Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws. 

But that didn’t happen.

No, instead… 

It laughed.

The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute. 

That was what you were to Jack: 

Cute. 

But not in the way you’d think. 

You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute. 

Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved. 

He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement. 

“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.

Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue. 

It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth. 

“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?” 

“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice. 

He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name. 

One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part. 

You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—

You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.

When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin. 

“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.

“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out. 

Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own. 

He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth. 

“W-Wait—!”

But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers. 

“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?” 

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…

You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more. 

But what choice did you have, really? 

Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.

You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 

Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs. 

“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.

It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human. 

His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity. 

Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase. 

Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you. 

You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy. 

When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin. 

“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“ 

“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.” 

You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.

“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy. 

“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.

The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point. 

When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task. 

“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.” 

He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life. 

“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult. 

“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!” 

He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.

“Brutal” was an understatement.

Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach. 

Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see. 

“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply. 

He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you. 

Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you. 

Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on. 

Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears. 

He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach. 

Oh, you simply had to see this! 

He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down. 

“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’ 

“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!” 

He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort. 

Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death. 

Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now. 

What the hell is he thinking?!

You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you. 

He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. 

And honestly…It wasn’t so bad. 

That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one. 

“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other. 

“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more!  What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?” 

He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him. 

Oh…you liked that. 

He was more than happy to keep going. 

“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!” 

You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement. 

“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…” 

And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more. 

He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.

“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words. 

“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.” 

His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that. 

“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…” 

You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts. 

“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…” 

Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled. 

He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done. 

You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now. 

You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering. 

“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh. 

Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…

Humans are so strange. 

He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin. 

“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…” 

Oh, fuck. 

He wasn’t leaving, was he?

mdni & reblog banners by cafekitsune

[sanyu-thewitch05]

F! Yuu’s Dad in Twisted Wonderland pt. 3

Pt.4

Books 3, 4, &5 were when your dad was stressing.

🦀: Why do Ace and Deuce have sea mushroom thingies on their heads? They-They made a deal with a boy so they can cheat their midterms, but everyone else but you cheated as well so they’re stuck in a contract of servitude? Yeah no, don’t get involved in their foolishness-oh, damn it! The cat has a sea mushroom too! Well, I guess we’ll find a way to fix it.

When all the shenanigans happen and Leona eventually turns Azul’s contracts into sand and he overblots, your dad is there to witness it.

🦀:Already five in the evening and the boy ain’t right.

He watches you and your friends beat Azul out of his overblot and watches the aftermath.

Safe to say, your father makes you stay away from Azul, Jade, and Floyd.

🦀: Hold on, where are you going and why do you have a basket?

🦐: I’m going mushroom picking with Jade.

🦀: Is Jade that one that always looks high and acts erratic?

🦐: No, that’s his twin brother, Floyd.

🦀: Either way, don’t go with him. He probably does shrooms.

Which leads you to Book 4

Your father does not like Kalim.

🦀: Hey! Hey! Hands off! You are way too touchy with my daughter!

☀️: But she’s my best friend!

🦀: You just met her five minutes ago.

🐍: Kalim, don’t go around hug tackling people you just met.

🦀: You keep him in check. I like that.

Your father becomes the “I like that” lady from the Simpsons.

🦀: “You run a tight ship. I like that.” “You keep the boys in check. I like that.” “You got some intelligence in you. I like that.”

Eventually Jamil overblots, and Jamil doesn’t even bother hypnotizing your father. He respects him that much. Which extends to Yuu.

🐍: So, what’s your world like?

You sneak away into the desert to find your friends. Your dad is at Scarabia small talking with Jamil.

Jamil will forever have an ego boost that your father respects him more than Kalim.

Afterwards, when the VDC start to loom over NRC, he’s not opposed to you joining(it’s his chance to get video of you dancing and singing).

That is until he finds out the team is staying in Ramshackle during the training period.

🦀: No! Absolutely not! You’re not having 7 boys living in this dorm with you! Especially that Kalim and Ace boy!

🦐: Dad! If we win we could use the money to renovate Ramshackle!

🦀:…..fine. But they’re staying downstairs.

Your father catches a glimpse of Rook’s photobook. He legit tries calling the police.

Boy shenanigans ensue

❤️: Man I’m beat from practice.

🦐:So am I. I’m taking a nap. Wanna join me?

And for once, Ace actually gets to sleep next to you in a bed. Then it gets ruined by everyone else but Vil joining in. It turned into a group nap on the bed.

Your father finds out and he’s not pleased.

🦀: GET OUT! And Yuu, we’re having a review of the puberty talk when it comes to boys.

When the VDC’s happen, he gets a recording of Yuu dancing and singing. Unfortunately that was ruined after the revelation that Vil tried to murder Neige.

🦀: Yuu, we’ve gotta kick these people out! One of them tried to kill someone. These boys are not right!

🦐: Dad! It’s all good! He’s back to normal now and we won the competition which means Ramshackle can be renovated!

🦀: I worry about you. I really do. I never should have let you read Having Adeline.

🦐: *gasp* They are perfectly good friends!

🦀: Oh, really? Riddle has anger issues, Cater is just Cater, Trey probably has a fetish for teeth, Deuce is too pugnacious, and Ace keeps trying to sneak into bed with you.

🦐: But-

🦀: Leona is a grown man who needs to get his life and inferiority complex together, Jack is…actually he’s ok. Ruggie’s such a con artist he would takeover Atlanta. Vil’s vain and murderous, Rook is a French stalker, Epel has masculinity issues. Ortho is a robot boy who’s too complicit in his brother’s shenanigans and Idia is an otaku creep who looks like he constantly needs a bath or else he’ll look like a zombie.

🦐: But-

🦀: Kalim’s too hands on with you, too oblivious to his surroundings, and has no boundaries, Jamil’s ok, something seems off with Lilia, Sebek is going to make you go deaf, Malleus is a creep and under no circumstances should you engage with him, and Silver is alright.

🦐: Why didn’t you mention Octavinelle?

🦀: Did I need to say anything about them to make them look bad?

🦐: No….no you did not.

[adickaboutspoons]

So there's several posts going around lately that seem to be dancing around the same proposition - that being that Ed is violence-averse altogether, rather than specifically killing-averse. While it's important to always keep the fact that Ed is no more violent than any other character on the show (and a good deal less violent than some), and that his use of violence is extremely considered and not the result of uncontrolled rages, denying that he would, has, and does commit acts of violence, and willingly, and sometimes even enjoys it, is just demonstrably wrong and elides a significant part of his character. When Ed is discussing "packing it all in" with Stede in 1x4, the reasons he give have nothing to do with being weary of or uncomfortable with the expectation of violence demanded by his position as a pirate, but because he's bored because "it's not a challenge anymore" because people don't fight back once they see Blackbeard's flag. He "loves a good maim." He genuinely has a blast with Jack and all his Jackassery. He gleefully spoke about mugging a guy for a dinghy. He thought the Knife Parade was a fun game until Fang told him his experience was not universal. He hands over a big fuck-off knife with the treasure he gives to the urchins, so clearly doesn't have a problem with using violence to defend what's yours. When he says to Stede "I'm not sure I want to go back to the old days of getting drunk all day and biting heads off turtles and making some poor bloke eat his toes for a laugh" that's not the same thing as saying he's forsaking his piratically violent ways and doesn't want to use violence ever again. The specific mention of all-day drunkenness and turtles calls back to the kind of shenanigans he got up to while Jack was around - and thus is a rejection of that kind of mindless violence for violence's sake; a prospect we had already witnessed him expressing discomfort with when Jack brought up what a wild man Ed used to be at brekkie. After all, part of the "most fun [he's] had in ages, years... maybe ever" has involved showing Stede how to "use a little oomph" and flirtatiously swordfight (both moments included in Stede's "what does it feel like to fall in love" mental montage) - violence as a means to procure a desired outcome, and with as little actual bloodshed or permanent injury as possible, but by no means not none. The show is so careful to never condemn the use of violence wholesale - like, at no point is the message a facile "violence is never the answer". It condemns certain types of violence, usually specifically those enacted large-scale by oppressive, colonialist social structures, but also cruelty for cruelty's sake. Outside of that, though, violence is a tool, and thus is only as "good" or "useful" as the task to which it is being applied. Ed is a master craftsman - he will use the tools at his disposal deftly, and, yes sometimes take joy or pride in his work. And that's not a bad thing, nor does it make him a bad person.

[sleepyorchidmonster]

While I'm curious about the other's dreams in Book 7, a part of me is mostly looking forward to overall shenanigans with the Dream Team and their assigned overblot buddies!

Especially since it looks like we're revisiting past twstunes.

-Jamil and Octavinelle is always funny AND a recipe for disaster;

-I can already hear Azul complaining about Savanaclaw's weather, not to mention his overall lack of stamina and how Book 2's twstunes are all either chase sequences or Magift;

-Leona painting the roses. Or helping bake a tart. He can't even escape because then dream Riddle and Sebek will team up and yell at him.

(More rambling under the cut)

Really hoping the Heartslabyul dream sequence is just extra chaotic. Maybe everyone already knows it's a dream, maybe the blot becomes even more dangerous. Maybe Malleus makes an appearance.

Part of me wants Cater to get a new card. I love Trey, but people often forget that Cater is also an important friend of Riddle's, so getting him to be the one to snap Riddle out of the dream would be great!

Maybe we can get cards for Trey AND Cater (maybe Chen'ya too), since both Tweels are getting cards...

Also I need Deuce's sequence to be Rabbit Fest again. We already have outfits for both Silver, Ortho and Grim, so we only need ones for Leona, Sebek and Ace (and even then Sebek and Silver often wear matching outfits,so you really only have to think about Leona and Ace). Idia's tablet also gets a ribbon. There's also a gang fight.

I just need Leona to have the worst time possible in Heartslabyul dreams.

Bonus:

Ortho, after we finish Savanaclaw's dream sequence: Alright, now it's time for our next dream! And you know what that means!

Silver: Only one more dorm before we face Lord Malleus again?

Sebek: We have to deal with Ace now?

Idia: I can't handle Mr. Zero EQ (A.K.A Riddle), Extrovert Extraordinaire (A.K.A Cater) and TREY in the same dream?

Yuu and Grim, holding baseball bats: We can FINALLY punch Riddle's abusive mom in the face?

Everyone: ...

Jack: I'm sure she's not that bad...

Yuu: She is the OG Red Tyrant.

Grim: Who yelled at Trey's parents for 5 HOURS because they gave her kid a SLICE of a strawberry tart! WHO DOES THAT?!?!

Leona: Welp, that explains a LOT...

[thewertsearch]

And now we have to deal with this motherfucker.

It’s probable that Scratch knew things would play out like this, which means this message was always intended for Karkat.

...it's probable that that's the case, but there's always a slight possibility that we're in one of his dark pockets. If so, then Karkat wasn't supposed to see this message, and might be about to learn something Scratch doesn't want him to know.

Mr. Vantas.

Dang it.

I'm delivering this message through the console of one of my numerous unwitting proteges to give you a word of advice, and then you will not hear from me again.

Characteristically unhelpful - and in fact, it might not refer to either of Eridan's victims. We still have Tavros's corpse to deal with, and I'm sure there'll be more bodies hitting the floor before the day is out.

All of the bodies in the room remain as they were. There is clearly nothing to be concerned about whatsoever.

Feferi has an eldritch connection through the Horrorterrrors, and they could probably pull some dark magical shenanigans to get her body moving again. I think that's unlikely, though, since Feferi's ghost is active in the Dream Bubbles, and I don't think she'd actually want to be revived. After all, she's go a job to do.

I'm still convinced that Kanaya's coming back, but it's hardly going to happen while our back is turned. We're out of Kernelsprites, so she can't be prototyped - and we can't use her Dream Moon Slab, if it even exists, because Prospit's been destroyed by Jack.

Frankly, I can't think of a single realistic way to revive her short of time travel, and that's not a road we want to go down. I'm really trying not to think about what that might mean.

I guess that leaves Tavros.

There's definitely something going on with him that we don't understand. He was about to smooch Vriska before she stopped him, and the Breath symbolism surrounding the act makes me think it was more than just a typical Dream Self revival kiss. He has a hidden power, and that power seems to kick in when someone's dying.

Could Tavros be a little less dead than we've been led to believe? It's possible - his arc doesn't scan as complete to me. He'd only obtained the merest shred of confidence before Vriska brought him fatally down to earth, and I think there are still many interesting places you could take his character.

CG: THERE YOU ARE, YOU HAD ME WORRIED DUDE […] CG: QUIT THE BULLSHIT PARTYCLOWN ANTICS AND GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE. […] TC: shut up. CG: WHAT… TC: I SAID SHUT THE MOTHERFUCK UP, MOTHERFUCKER. TC: honk honk honk :o)

Gamzee’s rocking a new quirk. He’s still swapping cases, but they’re alternating every message rather than every character, as though his mind is less scrambled than it used to be.

Could this be how he talks when he's off the slime? He already seems more aware than before, and his grumpiness evokes a hangover - but he's honking more than he used to, which is the opposite of what I'd expect if he was sober.

CG: SERIOUSLY, GET BACK HERE NOW, AND HAVE A SLIME PIE TO RELAX OR SOMETHING. TC: SLIME? TC: there is no more slime, brother. TC: AND ANYWAY. TC: shit was motherfuckin poison, didn't you know?

Yup. It looks like Gamzee’s gone cold featherbeast.

It's not a great time for this to happen, but it's not like we can stop it now. I highly doubt Gamzee was forward-thinking enough to reproduce his pies through alchemy, and things are a little too tense right now to try getting clever with an Appearifier. For better or worse, his supply has dried up for the foreseeable future.

So now, for the first time, we're interacting with a Gamzee who isn't out of his mind on soporifics. His shift in personality is already pretty drastic, and I'm interested in seeing what the real Gamzee is like.

[chaseacer-ghostedition]

Dannymay -immortal au

Jack is SO thrilled to share something with his bestie, meanwhile Vlad is getting hit over the head with the existential crisis stick.

Sorry for the late entry but I have fallen head first into a state where I can only draw Jack and vlad or my niche au version of the immortal au. Took a second for the two to merge into something that fit the prompt and also didn’t need paragraphs of explanation…

Instead some paragraphs of rambling about immortality below

The “halfas are immortal” au makes my head spin. On one hand, there is so much angst to be found in being forced to watch everyone and everything you love, wither and fade away. While you remain inevitably unchanged. That’s BRUTAL. It gets me every time.

But on the other hand- have any of you seen the movie highlander? In it a few people are born immortal throughout different periods of time. They start out living regular people lives. Until the whole immortal thing starts kicking in and… “oh, when love must die”. Weird movie and excessively 80s. BUT… it does have some good takes on how people would deal with immortality. Such as finding other immortals and befriending them. We are in a different time and place, the original context has faded away into the ever shrinking past, but you have people to reminisce about past antics with.

Yes, it is very sad to not be able to take the people you care about with you into the future. But the thing about grief and loss, is that it doesn’t last forever. Yes, the grief will always be there. A piece of you will always miss those that aren’t there anymore. But we move on, we find acceptance. Everyday it hurts a little less.

It is going to start to feel hopeless if you are alone, but the thing about Highlander and also our halfas is that they are not alone. Each of our half ghosts has three other immortals who are going through the exact same things. Eternity can suck the life out of you. But, It’s a lot harder for that to happen when you have something to live for. Something like friends and family. When you have people who are along for the ride with you. There will be ups. There will be downs. No mater what, they are in this together.

Basically, I just wanna see what shenanigans these wild kids (three Danny variants and a vampire) get up to an incomprehensible amount of years into the future.

[captainsparklefingers]

One of the things I'm taking away from the second go round of Dracula Daily (and particularly from David Ault's excellent performance in Re: Dracula) is how much I like Lord Arthur Godalming.

Like. On the surface and the first time round he stands out the least of Lucy's suitors, and given how much time we hear from Jack, he can come off the most developed. Quincy, of course, gives us a heck of a lot of personality with relatively little (again, compared to how much we get from Jack). Arthur, though, doesn't have the same volume of words to develop, nor the instantly clear personality. He's just Lucy's fiancee, Jack and Quincy's friend, the heroes of light's wealthy benefactor.

But God, this poor man. He's suffered several immense losses in a very short period, been forced to see the woman he loved as a monster, and then had to put her down so she could rest in peace. Beyond the emotional burdens of such losses, he has to deal with the legal matters and the settling of affairs for three different people, probably doing whatever one needs to do to take his father's place in the House of Lords (something I know absolutely nothing about but I assume there's things to do there), AND the earth shattering revelation the supernatural is real, monsters do exist, and the one who killed Lucy is still out there.

And all of that while having to abide by the Victorian standards of manhood. Stalwart, strong, showing no emotions that could make him seem weak.

I think the scene in September 30th, where Mina comforts him and finally he has the chance to let go of all of these burdens he's felt he must carry alone, all of the grief and sorrow he's been forced to carry, he can for at least a moment put aside the mask of manliness society insist he wear and just let himself be a man who has lost his father and his fiancee within days of each other, who is dealing with situations beyond belief.

Obviously we've seen him cry and grieve before but it always felt like he was stifling it to a degree because, well. He only has his male friends to lean on now and the stupid proprieties of society mean he can only lean so much. But now he's had a chance to finally let go, made a connection with Lucy's dearest friend and a new sister of choice. He has his friends, he's finally been allowed to mourn in the way he's truly feeling...and now he's ready to help in whatever way possible to avenge Lucy.

Arthur comes off to me as a very strong character, a man driven by great love, who's emotions, as constrained as they may be, are one of his greatest strengths (and, of course, every good monster hunting group needs a financial benefactor). He's not a flat character at all, he's not forgettable character. Lucy loved him for a reason and, I think, in the moment his grief finally breaks, we get a glimpse at that.

I think that one of the good things of Dracula Daily has been making people realize how good of a character Jonathan Harker is, how pop culture has done damage to the true character of Lucy and Mina…I think we should add that its done a good job of making one care for a character as Arthur, who at first glance seems flat and boring.

Or at least it's made me appreciate him more. And I still want to know how he and Jack and Quincy became friends and what sort of shenanigans they got up to before the events of the book.

[heavyhitterheaux]

“Maybe next time, check your surroundings”

You and Jack were currently trying not to look at one another because you knew that it would end up with the both of you laughing when Neelam was trying to be serious about the situation that occurred a few days ago.

However, that was short lived when you two made eye contact making Neelam’s face harden.

“This is NOT funny, you two.”

“Says who?” Jack asked her as he was trying to wipe away tears from his eyes. Seeing this sent you into a fit of giggles all over again.

“I swear the two of you wake up and ask yourselves what can we do to make Neelam’s job harder today and the two of you succeed every single time, I swear.” She responded as she rubbed her temples.

“Nee, come on. It’s not that big of a deal.” You told her as you laid across Jack’s lap and she instantly rolled her eyes.

“Not a big deal? A picture of your boobs are literally on the internet from your late night backseat shenanigans.”

“So are Rihanna’s.” Jack added and you quickly nodded.

“Oh, don’t even give me that. At least she was at an EVENT. The two of you were fucking in the backseat of Jack’s car.”

“Hmm, speculation! They don’t know that!” Jack yelled and you started laughing all over again.

“Do the two of you take anything seriously?”

“Define serious for us one time. And I thought it was a pretty good shot of my boobs anyway. Besides, we know you can make this whole thing go away.”

“Not the point Y/N!”

“Hey, at least I’m with my husband and not some random guy! Now that would send people over the edge. Besides, what's a little side boob action?”

“Y/N! THEY COULD SEE THE WHOLE BOOB! BOTH OF THEM! THE PICTURE IS SO CLEAR THAT THEY CAN SEE YOUR PIERCINGS IN THE PICTURE!”

“Oh, I hope they got a good angle of me, but it’s clear that they definitely did.”

“Hey, Nee, at least we didn’t break any beds this time.” Jack told her as he pulled you onto his lap and hugged you from behind.

“I will never forgive the two of you for waking me up in the middle of the night for that complete utter nonsense. Now I see why Urban says all of the time that the two of you make him sick.”

“I just love my wife, look how pretty she is. Stop hating.”

“We all know she’s pretty and no one is hating. You two are going to have 20 kids if you don’t get a damn grip.”

“He happens to always have a good grip on my thighs when he needs to.” You commented and Jack couldn’t help but to smirk.

“ENOUGH Y/N! ENOUGH!”

“Okay, are we done here? I need to go and get my wife pregnant.” 

Neelam sighed and knew deep down that the two of you would probably do it again and knew that there was no stopping you.

“Maybe next time, check your surroundings.”

“Sure, so they can get a show.”

“Y/N THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT!”

[lassieposting]

Fic Concept:

Tali'Zorah is, if she does say so herself, something of an expert in galactic romance. Her omnitool hosts a 6 terabyte collection of romance and romcom vids from across the spectrum of known species, and after that much media exposure, she's fairly sure she's familiar with all the ins and outs of each culture's dating milestones.

She knows, for example, that family members have certain duties in a clan member's new relationship, in human cultures. As one of Shepard's closest friends, she also knows that the poor thing has no family to fulfil those duties for her.

Determined to see Shepard and Garrus's relationship turn into Shepard and Garrus's marriage, she starts handing out responsibilities to appropriate members of the Normandy crew. Shenanigans ensue.

(AKA the one in which Tali is convinced common romcom tropes are actually essential milestones in any human romantic relationship, and takes steps to make sure Shep and Garrus get to experience them.)

Ideas that made me horf:

- Wrex, as Shepard's oldest and closest (deeply violent) male associate, is enlisted to give Garrus the if you break her heart, I'll end you speech usually performed by the father, on a visit to Tuchanka. Maybe he absolutely knows Tali has misread this, and lowkey gives the speech over shots of ryncol, wheezing about how Shep would kill Garrus just fine herself. Maybe he has no idea this isn't an actual important human ritual, and performs his part with ceremonial gusto. Anyway, he does it, and somehow manages to be vaguely heartwarming about it anyway or gives Garrus some sign of approval.

- Mordin, as the oldest male friend on the Normandy, is tasked with interrogating Garrus at "Family Dinner". He does so, but very few of the questions he asks are actually relevant to the typical Meet The Parents dinner, and Shepard actually learns a few new things about Garrus herself.

- Joker volunteers to be "mom" and bring out the baby pictures to show Garrus. He doesn't have any pictures of Shepard as an actual baby, but he does have some funny or embarrassing ones from their time serving together under Captain Anderson he's been itching to share, and that's almost the same thing. She's more baby there than she is now, anyway.

- Tali strongly encourages Garrus to spend time "bonding" with Grunt. It's very important to make sure your future wife's child knows he is included in your new family unit, Garrus! An eventful trip to the zoo/museum/etc ensues.

- Bonus wedding chapter where Wrex is bullied into formal wear to walk Shep down the aisle; Jack paints Cipritine face markings on Grunt thinking they're Vakarian family markings and then sets him loose on Garrus's extended family, who are all very confused as to how this young krogan is apparently from Cipritine; Zaeed gives a hilariously inappropriate speech as Best Man and accidentally outs Garrus as Archangel in front of Aria T'Loak; Kasumi attempts to hook up with Jacob in a time-honoured tradition of inadvisable bridesmaid/groomsman couplings, and Mordin makes use of his STG training to break into the honeymoon suite to leave a tasteful gift basket of sex aids on the bed, because Tali has banned him from giving them in front of the guests.

Just. Interfering Interspecies Crew Way Off Base But Have Loving Intentions. And in the end Shepard is deeply exasperated, but also very touched by the effort put in by the people that love them, and honestly lowkey glad that they got to experience those cliche moments after all.

Bonus points: crewmembers who really do see Shepard/Garrus as family also trying to share their traditions with her/him. Like, if a krogan warrior convinces a fertile female to join his clan, that's a big deal and maybe the clan throws a huge feast and party to celebrate, so Wrex does that for them. Or maybe asari pass hereditary jewelry from mother to daughter to be worn at the first bonding ceremony to a beloved life partner, so Samara lends Shep hers to wear for the wedding. Shit like that.

[ma1dmer]

Cyberpunk - Goro Takemura NSFW

i might revisit this ,i have too many thots on this man but not enough brain for them

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he is very thorough and he doesn't let you slack off on aftercare, he finds something to wash both of you off and something to eat and drink, he doesn't talk a lot but he is still very gentle and cautious to how you are feeling, if you complain about just wanting to sleep he chastises you to not rush him

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): tech, he really really loves and takes pride in all the tech he has acquired due to his job, he love the strength it gives him, a testament to his hard work, skill and of course loyalty. he loves when you pay extra attention to the implants he has, when you run your tongue over the synthetic skin, metal and cables as if you could taste his actual pulse beneath everything.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): pull out king, he doesn't enjoy the clean up and the mess, but he'll deal with it if it means feeling you wrapped around him fully, with no barrier, whether its possible to get you pregnant or not, it is a thought he lingers on when you two are getting hot in the comfort of your bed, he'll throw a few comments here and there, push down on your stomach imagining breeding you before he quickly snaps out of it and pulls out, pumping his cock a few final times to the image of you and your possible family

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he loves stockings and tights, he loves the sleek look of stockings on your legs. in general he is a man that can appreciate lingerie, he loves the effort you put for him, it's like a gift, you coming to him like a gift to unwrap, if he can he'll tear a single hole in the tights and pull everything aside, running his rough palms over your nylon clad thighs as he enters you he's the happiest man alive

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): he seems like a man who prefers long term relationships rather than one night stands, not just for commitment, nor out of any particular shame or something, but because one night stands are never as satisfying in his opinion, you can't teach someone new what gets you off as easily, he likes spending time finding what makes his partners tick , loves the satisfaction of knowing someone so well inside and out that he can get them to cum in seconds and he likes the comfort of someone who knows his body equally well

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): the very very very classic missionary, he lets himself get lost in your embrace, burying his hands in your hair and his face in the crook of your neck as he pushes his hips against yours

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he is surprisingly easy to convince to take part in shenanigans, his humour is delivered with deadpan dryness but he is still hilarious and enjoys watching you relax under him, watching you pause and try to figure out if he just made a joke or not and then grinning once you get it

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): he keeps natural mostly, he is not opposed to shaving or trimming if you want him to though, he might complain in the beginning but will fulfill your request even if it was just a passing comment you didn't think much of

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he takes a second to get there, to properly warm up to you and be a bit more affectionate and romantic, but when he gets there, he gets there, suddenly melting into you, he enjoys eye contact, he enjoys holding your hand and holding you as close as possible, he loves kissing every part of you he can reach too

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): always behind closed doors ,he isn't kind to himself when he indulges like that, he doesn't drag it out ,he knows what gets him off and he does it as clinically and roughly as possible, a tight fist around his cock, muffling his groans behind his other hand, he'll pause when an image of you pops up in his head, frustration distracting him briefly from his goal, how did you manage to get under his skin like that

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): clothed sex, edging, ropes, scent etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): he'll always prefer the comfort of your bedroom, why go anywhere else where it might get uncomfortable or it might stink or you might get caught

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): authority, he enjoys seeing you put people in their place, it makes him smile to himself proudly, now direct that sort of attention to him and he flushes, embarrassed to realised that it's not just pride he's feeling when your voice takes that sharp edge, or your eyes zero in on him harshly

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): he's possessive and really not keen on the idea of bringing anyone else in your bedroom not only that but he will get spiteful and petty if you suggest it

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): he is a giver, he likes the control of it and he definitely uses his hands a lot, pushing his fingers inside of you replacing his soft tongue with the rough pad of his finger as often as he can

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): he starts off slower and gets more frantic the closer to his release he gets, grabbing you, holding you closer, pulling your hips to his urging you to meet his thrusts, cursing in every language he knows

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he warms up to them very easily, in the beginning he thinks he'd hate them and openly sends you off whenever you try to initiate them, but it only takes one-two times before he is convinced on them, he even finds himself enjoying the idea of leaving you with a few reminders for the rest of your day

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): not very into risking things, he does not mind experimenting, but expect him to do as much research as possible before diving in to try whatever odd kink you suggest, he'll definitely judge you but never seriously if you want to try something

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): he has incredible stamina, but never pushes himself more than he thinks necessary, if you ask him he'll indulge you, one round two rounds three rounds, but when he is done, he is done and satisfied

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): only if you want them, he doesn't need them to get himself off since he's very particular on what he likes, but he's not intimidated by them either, he'll definitely leverage them against you in his dirty talk though, greedy

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he is direct, he isn't good with teasing you it feels like a front and he's always giving in way too quickly, but he does enjoy when you tease him, you frustrate him to no end when you do so, but he'll never stop you, if you want to play he doesn't mind playing, he finds himself enjoying getting edged, he always moves to grab your wrist when you pull away from his cock, but he never fully commits to pulling your hand back on him, reluctantly letting go and letting the game continue

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): he is not particularly loud, he mostly huffs and grunts, when he cums he does so with a loud groan and his noises oddly enough always borderline on animalistic, more growly and deep

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): i think he'd enjoy rope play or shibari, placing your full trust in him, letting him push the limits of your body, letting him map out where he wants the rope to go, researching new positions, it's almost not sexual in the way he gets so absorbed by it, a real artist with it too

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): average lengthwise but its quite thick, the crown is smaller and it thickens at the base, darker than the rest of him

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): he does not have a high sex drive, he's used to putting his needs aside for his job. what his body wants comes second to everything else, in the beginning he lets you and needs you to initiate things and to remind him that he can let go and relax in your presence

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): it's actually difficult for him to fall asleep after everything is said and done, ideally he wants you to fall asleep first, get the rest you deserve, he will never ask you to stay awake for him, however the truth is he can't fall asleep by himself, he needs your help, talk to him, play with his hair, anything, its a long road before he admits it to you and actually asks for your help, but eventually he does get there