#i will not disclose how tall I am

[lordofthefeline]

[hinamie]

please any atla gojo lore. anything please im begging on my knees hands pressed together like im praying to god

I really wish I could anon :'> we tried to think of non-spoiler-y lore we could share but turns out every aspect of his character is either a. major spoilers or b. a near-direct echo of canon but make it atla flavoured (ie. his relationships w/ geto/shoko/nanami/haibara; him being The Strongest(tm) in-universe, etc). I guess there's technically the satosugu betrothal but that's already Public Knowledge given that there's art, plus the details are (surprise!) more spoilers

so ...yeah.... unfortunately you'll just have to wait to learn more about him in the fic :"> please accept this compensatory art as apology even though i am Not sorry in fact the pleas of the commonfolk make me cackle

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[wettvagina]

ex for a reason

CONTAINS: p in v , infedility , pussy eating

ıllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllııllıllı

Chewing on your bottom lip, you tugged on the hem of your dress for the fifteenth time tonight, on your list of regrets, coming to this stupid college party was on the top of it, coming right after, was wearing this particular dress tonight.

The strapless black dress clung onto your skin, kissing the dip of your waist and curving at the wave of your ass, your boobs bounced with each step you took as you wondered around the house which was littered with swaying, half-concious bodies.

The dim lights were no assistance in finding your way to the exit, taking a sharp turn, you were met with a sliding glass door, with no ulterior motive, you slid the door open, finding yourself on a large, blustery balcony.

As you turned your head, your eyes met with those familiar, sultry green eyes, the eyes which transported your brain to a whole other location, taking you back in time forcing you to replay those woeing memories you made with the owner of those green eyes.

You found yourself stuck in place, as his green eyes traced down your body, you felt a sudden heat florish in your chest, making your heart drum. Your breath pace increased alongside your heartrate, causing your palms to moisten, you gulped before locking eyes with him, Eren Yeager, your ex-boyfriend.

You watched as his eyebrows raised and he took a step back, your body tensened and you attempted to exit, "Yo." his tempting voice spoke up, you kept your face straight, attempting to quickly manoeuvre yourself out of this situation.

"Hey." you plainly greet, Eren slowly walked up to you, as he did so, you took in his tall, healthy figure. As he approached you, you subconsciously stepped back, back hitting the transparent door behind you. Eren's lips twisted into somewhat of a smirk as he looked down at you.

"I've missed you."

Looking up at him, you just saw his sharp featured face, that face alone made you forget all the things he did to you. "Yeah?" you queried, "Look at you, fucking perfect." he admired, as you both locked eyes, you felt that heat within your body spread to your lower ograns, moistening the thin cloth of the thong you wore.

"You just keep getting hotter eachtime I see you." he disclosed, "How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?" his deep voice questioned, "You kept your hands from me when you were kissing that other girl." you managed to say, forming a weak barrier between you both using your limited amount of current self-respect.

"I've changed." Eren claimed, "Yeah?" you asked with a stern tone, "Yeah, you've changed too." Eren noted as he stared directly at your chest. "You're fucking nasty." you giggle, Eren used his large hands to rub your side, "I need you...so fucking bad." Eren murmured as his eyes looked into yours before he glanced down at your lips.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I'll do anything to make it up to you, baby." his sensuous voice ringed in your ear, "Well thats too bad, cuz' I hate you." you taunted, "Yeah? You hate me?" Eren spoke, his lips barely touching the skin of your neck, "That won't work, cuz' I'm in love with you." he said as he pressed his lips onto your neck.

Drawing his head back, his face was right in front of yours, you looked up at him, biting your bottom lip as you felt his strong arms hold you like he used to, as soon as your eyes dared to dart towards his lips, he took that as a signal to kiss you.

His lips basically fought with yours as you felt the eagerness in him be expressed with the way his soft lips moved on yours. His palms moved to the curve of your ass, grabbing it as he broke the kiss, "God, I missed you so much." he spoke before pressing his lips onto yours once again.

In one swift motion, Eren pulled the curtain in front the glass door, concealing everything transpiring on the balcony, using his muscular arms, he hoisted you onto him, grabbing you just below your ass, not breaking the kiss.

He placed you onto a lounge chair, as he got onto his knees on the ground, settling himself between your spread legs. "I'm gonna make things better, alright baby?" he promised as he parted your legs oncemore.

Pulling off your thong, and rolling your dress slightly higher, he licked his lips before making contact with your wet pussy, your clit was in proximity to his cold metal tongue piercing, upon the sudden perception, you looked down at him, slurping your juices as his bicep muslces stiffened as he held your legs apart.

"Fuckk, you gotta tongue piercing." you moaned, "Mhmm." he hummed into your pussy causing your knees to shake. As Eren's tongue guided down your wet lips your toes curled, his head shook to the side as he devoured your pussy.

Using his fingers, he jabbed at your deprived hole, with one final lick, he used his lips to suck at your bundle of nerves. With that, you came all over his fingers, soaking his entire hand. "Look at this, huh." his voice chimed, you bit your lip, looking down at him with needy eyes as your legs shook.

Using his tongue to wipe his fingers dry, he made you watch as he cleaned your juices off of him. Standing on his feet, he pulled you up, grabbing your face once you were to his level. He kissed you slowly with his wet lips, taking your hand into his, he guided your hand down to his crotch, making you feel how hard he was.

"What are you gonna do about it?" he whispered onto your lips, departing your lips from his, you looked at his lofty, trained figure, you pulled the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head.

You were faced with his tense, chiseled abs, switching your positions, now in front of him your directed him to sit on the chair you were once on. You dropped your core onto the tent in his pants, grinding yourself on him as you placed your hands on his chest, allowing yourself to move with more pressure and speed.

"Fuck." he cursed as he watched you grind onto him, "so fucking pretty." he whispered as his hands found themself on the curve of your ass. Discovering the zipper of his pants, you pulled it down with eagerness, yearning for the feeling of that lengthy, healthy-pink coloured dick that ensured an orgasm each time it was inside you.

As you slightly pulled down his pants and everything underneath it, his rigid cock sprung free, slapping your inner thigh upon liberation. "Fuck, you're so big." you praised as you stroked his shaft, before inserting it into your soaking core.

"Goddam." Eren breathlessly muttered, it was only the tip that was in so far, and your wetness was not much help getting his full length into you. His extensive,girthy cock stretched you out real good, you pressed your eyes shut, enduring the fugitive pain.

"God." you moaned upon feeling the sudden fullness, your knees pressed into the softness of the cushion of the chair you were on as you placed your hands on Eren's shoulders for stability.

"Fuck, bounce on it, princess." Eren urged, you used your knees to push yourself up, pulling yourself off of his length before dropping onto it again, the sudden friction of your walls to his dick sent goosebumps down your spine and produced loud moans.

Eren slouched into the chair, allowing himself to push his dick further up into you, with steady bounces you fucked yourself good on his dick as his shaft became coated with your juices. You arched your back moving your ass up and down as you moved in and out of him.

Eren groaned as beads of sweat dripped down his pecs and onto his carved abs, "Don't stop." Eren grunted, your own pleasure slowed you down from riding him at your full capability. Upon noticing, Eren used his hips to buck up into you, watching your breasts bounce in your dress as he wore out your pussy.

"You still hate me?" he questioned with a laugh as he dug his cock deep into you, "Huh? You still hate me?" he persisted, all you could do was moan as he drilled into you, Eren groaned loudly as he used his hand to squeeze your titties, still pounding up into you relentlessly.

"Oh fuck!" you yelped as the tight knot in your lower stomach became undone, you came for the second time, this time all over his dick. "Yeahh, who else can fuck you like this, huh?" Eren whinged, you inhaled and exhaled loudly as your orgasm faded out.

You hopped off his dick, scurrying to get your panties which were discarded on the floor, as you turned around you heard Eren's zipper and he stood to his feet. Bending over to slip on your thong, you felt him press himself against your ass, "You still hate me?" he iterated.

You felt his hands on your hips, and once your back pressed onto his chest he guided them around your waist, you twisted your head to the side, his jade eyes meeting yours.

Every wrong he ever did to you cancelled out, and you felt the same way he made you feel the day you met.

Tags: @dontcryskxawng @iheartjoaofelix79 @k-ine-e

[tsuvvy]

Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 2

Mistreated Stray

You wake up cuffed to a hospital bed. You refuse to cooperate with the Batfamily and stubbornly refuse to disclose any information about yourself or how you ended up in your job with Kerrim. And surprise rises when they find out whose DNA matches closest to yours.

Warnings: Mentions of pain, you are handcuffed to a bed, fighting with electricity, violence (not a lot), mentions of not eating well, implication of (not) poisoned food, mention of killing and torture, you being compared to a stray dog (not in a bad way, I promise)

Word Count: 2.3k

Your head was pounding. Your limbs hurt. You felt uncomfortable.

You wanted to curl up into a little ball. But when you tried to move your hand, it didn't go very far. It was abruptly stopped by a force.

You peeled your eyelids open and managed to look down through your blurry vision. You were handcuffed to the bed.

You looked around with your confused and still somewhat blurry eyesight.

Off to the side, there was a man. He was decently tall and his clothes looked meticulously cleaned and pressed of any wrinkles there could ever possibly be with his perfect posture. He didn't have many similarities with your father, but you were quite disoriented. He was at a counter with his back towards you.

“Dad…?” You muttered out in a somewhat shaky voice of pain. Your head felt like it was getting worse.

The man paused in what he was doing at the sound. He took a moment before turning to look at you. He had gray hair and wrinkles along his forehead, which were both no doubt from aging. And he had a nice mustache as well. It was clear he had a nice job to get such a nice suit as the one he wore.

“Ah, I see you are finally awake,” He said, more of an observation than trying to speak to you. “I am Alfred Pennyworth,” Cassandra had already told him of her own observations that you couldn't understand much, but it looked like you could. No one knew to what extent of speech you knew and didn’t know. He grabbed the tray off of the counter he was just at. He stepped towards you and put it down on the bed next to you.

You almost curled away from him. Like a scared stray dog. Your gaze traveled to the tray, his hand, and then him. The tray had an assortment of little items on it. You couldn't tell what they were. They smelled good, but..

The man backed away from you, noticing your movement and cautious gaze.

“Go on,” he gestured toward the tray. “It is safe,” he offered a kind gaze. But he was meant with nothing but a mean scowl from you. He knew this was going nowhere, “I will return shortly.”

You watched him turn his back toward you. And you watched him leave.

It took a moment before you looked down the tray. You hesitantly reached a hand over, poking the little sandwiches on the tray before picking it up and smelling it. You took a tiny and cautious bite. It actually tasted.. Good..

You are so accustomed to the lazily prepared and bad tasting food that your father would feed you. So these tiny little sandwiches seemed like a delicacy. One that you could not stop eating.

You only stopped when someone stepped into the room that resembled that of a hospital one.

The old man had returned, then behind him came a red-head in a chair with wheels and two ravenettes in after her. The four stopped when they looked at you. The tray of 14 little sandwiches was down to about 3 now.

Alfred smiled at you, even if you had gone back to your stiff and cautious curl you could manage. Your body pressed against the arm of the hospital bed.

“I see you enjoyed the snack,” Alfred said, “Excuse me while I make some more for our guest.” He had turned to the three.

“Of course, it's no worries at all!” The red head told him with a smile before he made his exit.

You watched him leave, your gaze immediately turning to the three that entered farther into the room.

The woman with short black hair looked at you. You hated her gaze. You hated the pity you saw. And you hated the color. And you just hated it. You hated her.

“Hello,” the red head said, wheeling her chair a bit closer to the bed you were sitting in. “I'm Barbara,” her voice was sweet, gentle, and soft. “This is Bruce,” she gestured to the man with black hair who moved to stand behind her. “And that is Cassandra.” She stood farther away from the bed, her arms crossed, “Though you probably.. Already know her.” Barbara glanced at you, watching your reaction. Bruce watched carefully as well. You just glanced around at everyone warily.

Why weren't you locked up? Why weren't you getting worse treatment than just being cuffed to the arm of a hospital bed. You’ve seen your father kill and torture his enemies. Why wasn't that happening to you?

“What's your name?” Barbara asked you gently. Bruce stood behind the chair she sat in, still watching you.

“I…” Your voice was quiet, and you were hesitant, you looked away stubbornly. “Can’t tell.” Though you did keep the three in your peripheral. The three were a bit disconcerted from that answer. You were young, possibly younger than Damian, so why couldn’t you tell them?

“Why not?” The redhead asked. You didn’t answer so she moved on. “What about your age?” She asked gently, her gaze reassuring. You stubbornly shook your head. Barbara looked behind herself at Bruce, the two sharing the same look.

“I understand you are scared, but-” Bruce was cut off.

“Not scared.” You sent him a scowl.

“Alright, you aren’t scared,” he restated, “Either way we need to know why you were working for someone like Kerrim.”

You looked away again. “Please, we want to help,” Barbara urged.

“Nothing,” You said, voice cracking subtly for a second in your uncertainty.

“Nothing?” Barbara questioned.

“Nothing I know.” You said.

“What does that mean?” Barbara asked. She had a good idea what you meant. She was a genius, after all. But she wanted to hear it from your perspective.

“They don’t know anything,” Everyone looked to the doorway. There stood a boy with a dog next to him. “But they’re lying.” His gaze narrowed on you in a glare. And you returned that glare with a scowl.

“Damian?” Barbara questioned.

“You do know something,” He walked in, his hands in his pockets and the dog at his side. “You just won’t give it up.”

Everyone was silent for a beat.

“Or,” Damian spoke up through the silence, “You were taught not to.” Damian could see through you. “Am I right?” He raised a brow, the cocky smirk that looked to be an insanely good impersonation of Robin (crazy, right?). Your scowl only deepened. When Alfred came into the room with another tray of little sandwiches, you tried to push yourself farther into the armrest on the bed. Damian picked off one of the little sandwiches as he said, “Seems I am.” His gaze shifted towards Bruce, “Should I continue?” He asked arrogantly.

“I believe there is no need for that, Master Damian.” Alfred spoke as he placed the newly acquired tray of sandwiches on the bed and placed the ones from the other tray onto it and took the old tray. He diligently backed away from the bed and in turn, you. He didn’t wish to make this any more stressful for you than it already was.

“Alfred is right,” Bruce agreed.

“Bruce,” A boy with black hair peeked into the room, a laptop in his hands. “Could I speak with you,” he insinuated to talking away from this room.

“Yes,” Bruce said, looking at you. “Barbara, Alfred, stay with them.” He told the two. “Damian and Cassandra, come with us.”

The two obeyed, following him out of the room. But, the dog next to Damian's side stayed in the room instead of following him out. The big dog came to sit next to the chair Barbara was in.

“Have you found something, Tim?” Bruce asked.

“A little,” the boy answered as he led the group back to the main computer he had been working at.

“And that is?” Damian raised a brow.

“I'd appreciate it if you kept the rude remarks to a minimum, thanks.” Tim sighed as he sat in the swivel chair and began to type away. “I couldn't find a lot.” Tim said.

“What did you find?” Bruce asked. He put a hand on the top of the chair and leaned into his other hand he rested on the edge of the desk.

“I tried looking for things based on her description and pictures first. Like missing persons reports or even any pictures that might have been taken out in the open. But I couldn't find anything,” Tim continued to type on the keyboard. “Then I looked for a birth certificate by putting in general information, but also couldn't find anything.”

“Get to the point.” Damian chimed in, getting impatient.

Cassandra had stood quiet, listening intently. Something about you she felt like she knew. She felt like she knew you. But she knew she didn't. She would probably recall meeting a young child adept at fighting that had electricity powers.

“Getting there,” Tim grumbled, finally pulling up a DNA Match screen. “Then, I had Alfred help grab something to use for a DNA match,” He cleared out the other screens in the way.

On the big computer screen was a picture displayed of you, and then one next to it. The picture next to the one of you was of Cassandra, much to Damian, her's, and Bruce's surprise. The words,

‘Closest Match’

were flashing on the screen.

“Now, the kid is obviously not in the database,” Tim pushed against the desk, turning the swivel chair to look at the three. “But they are related to Cass.”

Cass stood stunned, staring at the computer screen. Maybe there was a reasoning to why you were so familiar to her…

The four looking at the computer, Tim at the others, heard a sudden zap, then a few barks and yells. Everyone whipped to look at the door.

“Hey, hey, no!” Barbara's voice sounded from the room.

Not long at all afterward, you came out of the room as quickly as you could. Though you were significantly slower.

Bruce stepped forward, but he stopped when he caught your gaze. Your venomous gaze that would have sent shivers down anyone's spine who didn't deal with people like this a lot. But it caught Bruce off guard.

It wasn’t as much about the venom in your glare. It was what you reminded him of.

You reminded him of something like a stray animal. One that has been mistreated over the years, had to fight for food. Lost loved ones, been abandoned.

Your gaze traveled across everyone in the room.

“Don't!” You yelled when you saw Tim stand up. “Don't, come.. Come near!” You figured out your words. Tim and Cassandra shared a glance.

“Just..” You looked at Bruce quickly. “Calm down.” He kept his tone as soft as he could manage. He puts a hand out, tries to ease your emotions.

You finally noticed Damian. He had gotten closer without your realizing. Your reaction time has decreased with how exhausted you still were. You managed to back away from his hand in the nick of time.

“Damian no!” Cassandra yelled when she saw Damian about to punch at you.

Damian hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting to Cassandra momentarily. You took the opportunity to send a kick at him. He dodged. You started sending more attacks, all being significantly slower than they had been when you first ran into the vigilantes.

Damian only dodged your attacks, slowly backing away throughout the area. No one else intervened. It was all happening too quickly.

You were already charging up the electricity in your arm. It wrapped and flickered around your arm, quickly traveling down to your hand. You threw your hand out, sending the shot of electricity at Damian, but he ducked, effectively dodging it.

Your eyes felt heavy. Your own arm you had just used felt numb and tingly. Your legs shook, and your heart was racing. And you were falling..

Damian moved quickly, still in his crouch from ducking. He opened his arms and you fell into him, your head landing on his chest.

Damian put a hand around your shoulder, holding it firmly, making sure you wouldn't try to get up, but he already knew you couldn't with how weak you were.

And you weakly trying to push against him to get away from him only proved that.

“Get away,” you said, voice shaking. “Get. Get..” You weakly pushed. “Get away. Get away..” You sounded like a broken record. Voice continuously breaking, and also continuously repeating yourself. “Please.. Get away!” You cried.

“Calm down!” Damian told you.

“Away! Away! Away!” You continued to cry.

“Hey, I told you to calm down!” Damian kept his voice a firm but calm tone. “You're safe, no one will hurt you!” He glanced at the woman who had approached and crouched next to the two of you. You hadn't noticed her.

You hadn't noticed her until she was pulling you away from Damian’s arms and into her own.

“Shh,” Cassandra held you tightly in her arms against her chest, “It's okay,” she rested her forehead against your head.

“Get away!” Your voice grew louder, more desperate, more hysterical. “Get,” She shushed you again, “Get away..” Your voice was growing quieter. “Get away.” A mutter now.

She was.. Cassandra was warm, and.. You couldn’t understand anything that was happening. Too much is happening. This warmth was foreign. And the want to lean into her was foreign, and quite frankly an unwelcome feeling you didn't want in your body.

“It's okay,” She told you softly, “I have you.” She wasn't sure why she felt the need to protect you. To hold you tightly. To never let go. To always keep you safe.

Why did the words make your stomach tighten like they did? And your heart felt weird. Almost worrisome to you if you had the time to think of your heart of all things.

You tried to fight the way your eyes grew heavier. “Get away..” Your voice was quiet, shaky, and tired. “Get..” You breathed, “Get away..”

You were asleep…

<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->

@redh00dsbf @02006

[probablysimpledreams]

Brat, You Belong to Me

(Crocodile x reader: NSFW)

a/n: Hello hello One Piece nation!! I am here with some nsfw Crocodile for yall<3 This is set when he's still a Warlord and in Alabasta just for some context!

cw: Very possessive Croco here. A little usage of his hook, uses the term "pet" (the relationship the reader and him have is more of a toy/item than relationship bro is not nice just hot and possessive), hints of overstimulation, begging, masturbation being watched, umm that should be all. The reader is written gender neutral but with female parts. OH and a Doflamingo appearance!

word count: a tad over 1.4k

The ride to the World Government headquarters felt longer than ever this time. You often accompanied Crocodile to his Warlord meetings, finding joy knowing it was another place he could show you off. You loved being his accessory, having such a powerful man's attention turned you on like crazy.

However, lately too many things have been stealing that attention away from you. He never disclosed his work to you, and honestly that's not what you cared about. What was bothering was that he was too focused on his work. This past month he has been in meeting after meeting, phone after phone call locked away in his office. The only time he has spent with you was so he could get off, needing to release stress in between meetings, calls, reports, you name it. You knew he wasn't a kind man, but this was the first time he did not take your pleasure into consideration. It was pissing you off to no end. What was so much more appealing than you these days?

You sigh loudly as you lay your head on the large man. You flutter your eyelashes as you look up at him, a frown forming as he does not even bat an eye. He continues reading the newspaper as you move closer to him, ignoring any personal space in the car. You abruptly pull away, laying down on the seats on the limousine as you throw your legs across his. You always made sure to wear something revealing to these meetings, per Crocodile's request. You extend your right leg in the air, skin brushing against the newspaper Crocodile is buried into you.

"Control yourself _______," he mumbled while turning the page of the paper. He still not even glance up to look at you. His response invoked even more rage within you. As you sit up and turn away from him, a plan to get his attention forms in your head.

------

You smile as you enter the meeting room, looking around at the familiar faces. It had been a while since the last Warlord meeting, but you knew exactly who to target to get under Crocodile's skin.

"So nice of you to join us, Gator boy," a tall man smirks as he approaches the two of you. "And your little Birdy joined us as well." He winked as he took your hand into his. "How are you beautiful?"

"Oh you know," you smile up at the man. "Can't complain." You glance at Crocodile as Doflamingo presses a kiss on your hand. Despite Crocodile showing no reaction, you knew how he felt about Doflamingo, especially when it came to him flirting with you. You always obey his rule of not interacting with Doflamingo's moves, but it was time to play dirty.

"Darling, I saved you a seat," Doflamingo escorts you over to the table where the rest of the Warlords sat. You thanked him as you sat in the chair between him and Crocodile. A small smirk formed on your face as you noticed Crocodile's attention was finally on you, even if it was just from the corner of his eye. Keeping up with your plan, you turn to ask Doflamingo a question. As the two of you talked you could feel a strong, piercing set of eyes watching you.

"Fufufufu, finally giving up on the old man huh Birdy?" Doflamingo leans closer into you. "You know my offer never expires," his hand starts trailing down to your exposed thighs.

"I might have to take you up on that Doffy," you giggle. "Ya know, Crocodile has been so busy lately, it's made me-" you were cut off by a hook creating a barrier between you and Doflamingo.

"That's enough," Crocodile huffs. "Both of you." Though he keeps a calm composure, you can sense the anger from his tone. The energy of the entire room shifts. His gold hook graces your skin as he pulls it back to himself, giving you a final glare before turning around.

"Oh? Protective, are we now?" Doflamingo chuckles amusingly. Before he's able to push Crocodile's buttons any further, the individuals who called for the meeting enter the room and begin speaking.

----------

Similar to the ride there, the ride back was silent. However, a winning smirk graced your face as he kept a hand latched on your thigh. His composure was slowly breaking as the ride continued. You impatiently rub your thighs together, causing Crocodile to tighten his grip on you. The car finally pulled into the Rain Dinners casino, and Crocodile dragged you all the way inside into his office. Using his hook, he quickly pushes everything off his desk and throws you onto the desk.

"Is this what you wanted so badly?" he asks, sliding the back of his hook against your clothed sex. You whine, yet he's not amused. "Answer me damn it."

"I-I want you!" you whine, unable to hide any desire. You've been so horny all month and can not take any teasing. His free hand slides your underwear off, then he presses the back of his hook against you again. You cry as the cold gold meets your skin. He gives a disgusted look as he pulls away, wiping the sticky wetness off the hook.

"Show me," he takes a seat down at the desk. "You put on a great show for Domflamingo earlier. Where's mine?"

You whine, but decide not to resist his demands. You quickly move your hand down your body, fingers swirling circles on your clit. Crocodile watches intensely as you get to work on yourself, moans leaving your lips. You could tell he was not going to give you what you needed yet though.

"C-Crocodile," you cry as you slide two fingers inside yourself. A smirk appears on his face as he continues to watch you intensely. You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of yourself at a quick pace. You continue to squirm on the table, moans crying for Crocodile to touch you and how you need him. Just as you're about to reach your climax, a hand reaches out and forces you to stop. You whine and fight to get out of his grip, but are unsuccessful as your hand is now pinned above your head.

"Such a good pet," he praises as he hovers over you. You swallow as he releases your hand, wrist throbbing from the tight grip. "Well, are you going to get what you've been begging for?" he motions to his harden cock trying to burst from his slacks. "Or should I make you wait even longer?" You eyes widen as you shake your head, causing him to chuckle as you quickly undo his belt and slide his pants off. "That's what I thought." Your legs wrap around his waist as he positions himself, tip barely inside you.

"Please Crocodile!" your impatience past its limit. "Fuck me already!"

"You don't make the demands here," he slams his cock roughly into you. "You got that?"

"Y-yes sir," you choke, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasurable pain.

"That's more like it," he smirks. He moves his hips to fuck you at a steady pace, starting slowly to make sure you feel every second of it. You cry as he pulls himself all the way out, seconds later sliding himself all the way back into you. Crocodile was clearly no small man, and neither was his dick. You still remember the first time he had fucked you, leaving you breathless and bleeding. You were sure you were bleeding again as it felt like he was ripping your inside apart with every thrust. This is exactly what you wanted. After a full month of being deprived your mind and body were ecstatic from finally receiving pleasure. It was all so overwhelmingly pleasuring, pushing you to your climax quicker than usual. Crocodile began thrusting faster and faster as you claw at his back. You know he will be mad if you ruin the silk button down he's still wearing, but you don't care. In this moment all you can focus on is your own pleasure.

"C-Crocodile," you moan as you tighten around him, causing him to let out a low growl. "I-I....Crocodile!!" you scream his name as the pleasure takes over you, vision going fuzzy as you reach your climax. You continues fucking you through it which causes you to squirm and cry out more.

You pant as you come down from the high of it all, sweat sliding down your face. You wince as Crocodile does not stop nor slow down. You reach out to put a hand on his chest, sweaty hands gripping his shirt.

"You're a fool if you think that's all," an evil smirk spreads across his face, eyes deeply looking into yours. "I'm going to make sure you never question who you belong to again."

[tainted-red]

Lingering - Patrick Hockstetter

Summary: Rumours that Patrick is stalking Y/n. Are they true?

TWS: Vouyerism, Masterbation, Stalking.

"Y/n" A short boy shouted at the older girl, Y/n froze in her tracks and turned to face the prepubescent boy. "I heard Hockstetter is stalking you! Be careful?" Eddie told the girl. She chuckled and responded with "Why is everyone so scared of him? I'll call the cops if it's ever concerning- plus I told you not to listen to rumours anymore Eddie" Y/n disclosed.

"I know-" Eddie tried to reason with Y/n. He wanted to warn her how dangerous Patrick could be. That one time he allegedly "took" Liah Carmen's dog for not letting him play under her skirt.

"Then let it go Eddie" Y/n cut off Eddie.

Eddie was about to speak again but his friend whom Y/n didn't like too much came around. "Hey, Bunny" Richie exclaimed, standing beside Eddie. Checking Y/n out.

"Hey Sweet-cheeks" Y/n teased.

Y/n and Eddie had no clue how they became close friends. Maybe it was because Eddie gave Y/n his sweater after Greta had slapped a jam sandwich on her shirt.

"Heard Cocksucker is stalking you... every night" Richie appealed,  Y/n groaned "Seriously? Have you heard that shit as well? How did that dumb rumour even start?" Y/n questioned.

"Well Linda told her mother she saw Patrick lurking around your house, So Linda's mother told your mom, your mom told the neighbours so maybe one of your neighbours has a big mouth" Eddie rambled, Playing with the hem of his shorts.

Y/n rolled her eyes "I don't think he even knows who I am. Anyways kids I got to go. See ya later" Y/n dismissed. Walking off, with an uncomfortable feeling lingering on her.

Were the rumours true or was just another one of Greta's friends being a shit-talker?

1

Y/n arrived home very late, Walking a couple of miles wasn't worth it. Just so she wouldn't get a couple of skepticalal looks.

She definitely felt a bit strange to hear people talking about Patrick like that. Creeping around her house. Apparently having a gun or something like that. It gave Y/n the chills. She thought she was an absolute nobody in this small town, now she plays a big role in a rumour.

Y/n decided a hot shower would relieve her from all this pressure and panic.

Stripping her clothes off her sticky and sweaty body that felt like it was overheating. Once she got her clothes all of she felt like she was freezing.

She grabbed a towel and placed it on her toilet. She then turned on the water for the shower.

2

Patrick was in-fact stalking Y/n, it was what he was doing right now.

Standing outside of her bedroom window. He was lucky she lived in a one-story house that wasn't very tall.

Every day she would take a shower, Walk into her room with only a towel on. Find an outfit then go back to the washroom to change. Patrick felt like it was the universe teasing him, waiting for him to make a move.

Y/n finished getting changed and walked into her room with only panties and a baggy shirt that covered most of her bottom.

Patrick felt his heart pound faster. The way the shirt would show off one of her soft-looking shoulders. She jumped into her bed, She never used the covers. but today she did.

Patrick could see her throw her underwear across the room, It was very dark in her room but Patrick could see her blanket faintly move around. Y/n gripped onto her sheets as she (Patrick assuming) played with herself.

Her mouth fell open. Patrick loved that. Her plump lips have moans and whimpers escape her mouth.

The blanket's movements now fastened. Patrick felt the blood go straight down to his dick. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down slightly, pulling his dick out of his pants.

Slowly pumping it, Seeing Y/n bite her bottom lip in pleasure. He stroked faster. He wanted them to climax at the same time. Although Y/n had a head start.

"Fuck Y/n" Patrick groaned, one hand on his shaft and the other attempting to pull his pants lower so it would be easier and quicker.

Y/n was clearly about to climax. One hand was now on her boob, squeezing it for more pleasure than she needed. Gosh Patrick wanted to be in both of her hands right now.

Patrick could picture Y/n underneath of him. Moaning and begging for more, His dick would fit perfectly.

Patrick saw Y/n's legs now shaking the blanket slightly, it was obvious she was about to finish. Patrick gripped onto his dick harder and stroked even faster than before.

The only time he ever felt this amount of excitement is when he was at his fridge in the middle of the woods. With a lifeless animal in his hand. Or when he "innocently" killed his little bother, Avery.

If Y/n could make him feel this excited could she really exist and not be a figment of his imagination?

Patrick felt his balls tighten, His legs and arms shiver and go numb as he came. Directly on Y/n's house, outside of her room.

If this wasn't a giveaway, Patrick didn't know what was.

He felt his crotch and spine tingle then go slightly numb. He loved whenever that happened just from a little bit of release.

Y/n was now sitting up, putting back on the underwear and wandering off to the washroom. She probably to go clean herself up

Patrick smirked. With all the rumours and gossip about Patrick stalking her, wouldn't she at least close the blinds? Yet she still left them wide open.

Even when she decided to have a fun time.

Patrick pulled up his pants and wiped his hand on his thigh. Buttoning his pants and smiling when he saw Y/n come back with a glass of water.

Sweat shimmered on her body. She looks beautiful.

Y/n sipped on the water and placed it on her bed stand. Getting back into bed with a smile. Patrick swore she looked directly at him, but maybe he was just wishing she did.

3

Patrick decided today he was going to ask Y/n out. He built up enough courage and confidence from seeing Y/n do something so secretive.

Patrick saw Y/n exit school and go to her younger friends. They seemed to be the only ones that didn't care that Patrick was stalking her. Patrick hated those fucking kids. But put on a nice act.

Approaching the group like a creep, "Hey Eddie. It's been a while, huh?" Patrick taunted, wrapping an arm around the squirming boy.

"Y-yeah" Was all Eddie let out. The biggest hypochondriac being touched by a guy who was speculated to have more diseases than hairs on his head.

Patrick let go of Eddie and turned his attention to Y/n "Hey Y/n. Heard the rumours." Patrick joked, letting out a deep chuckle.

Y/n blushed and started fidgeting with the hem of her skirt "Yeah, I- I have" Y/n stuttered. Patrick usually had that effect on people. intimidating them so much that the person he was talking to stuttered.

He adored it when Y/n did. Her voice was so soft and airy. She had the voice of a kitten, an angel didn't even speak but if it did it would sound like Y/n.

"Sucks. Hope that didn't scare you away" Patrick asked theoretically. Leaning down on his knees so he could be face-to-face with her.

"N-no of course not"  Y/n giggled. Patrick felt the blood rush down to his dick. He's gonna have to ask quickly or else someone will notice and ruin his chance.

"Good. I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie or maybe go for a drive with me and my friends" Patrick wondered. Anticipating for a response.

Y/n's eyes opened wide, quickly looking away from Patrick's stare. She felt like she was about to explode in embarrassment for no reason.

"Yeah, sure. A ride sounds fun- not like that- I meant with your friends as well... Like in a car," Y/n stammered on her words, trying to save herself from her dirty-sounding remark.

It got worse each time she added more words to her sentence. Patrick chuckled at this, and so did Richie.

"Great. Sounds like a date? I'll pick you up tonight" Patrick preached, standing back up straight "Do you need my address or my phone number?" Y/n asked softly. Doe eyes batting at him.

He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth "I think I can manage" Patrick said slyly with a light chuckle.

[neonscandal]

something I wanted to understand, the author said that satoru was quite a womanizer, but then he said that geto was much more popular among women than satoru I didn't understand

Technically, the author said that they didn't see Gojo being faithful to one or a certain woman not that he was a womanizer.

With what we know about Gojo (and Gege Akutami's trolling ways, for that matter), I think that's up for interpretation.

FAN INTERPRETATION

Fans really took that sentiment and kind of ran with it because, to us, Gojo is high spec in every way. Canonically good looking, tall, competent at like.. everything according to Akutami, strong and presumably loaded. Of course someone like that would be a womanizer, right?

Except Gojo is an oversized child who still kinda refers to Digimon in conversation and primarily hangs out with 16 year olds. People project a lot of their BS onto him because they can't imagine ticking all those boxes and not being an asshole. But he’s a corny dork who is seemingly impervious to the outright disdain of most of the people around him. IT’S COMICAL. Personally, I think this interpretation is incorrect, demonstrably.

The other side of the fandom is naturally like... well of course he couldn't stay faithful to one woman. He's been faithful to Geto for ten years! I think we know what camp I've pitched my tent in *gestures vaguely to the rest of my blog* Especially when you bear in mind that Gege Akutami specifically designed Gojo and Geto to be intrinsic complements of one another.

CANON

I'm not so SatoSugu addled (once the brain rot sets in, it's terminal) that I am unable to disclose the secret third way we can interpret this. Canonically, when we look at Gojo as a character... it almost makes sense to assume he's simply not interested in dating at all.

Empirically finds it hard to relate to others

Even when he does care for others, he's still emotionally shallow and aware of it

Gojo clan leader with all associated unpleasantries and responsibilities from a young age

Single benefactor to two children; assumes direct responsibility over two more by staving off their execution

First line of defense for all of jujutsu society

Has a grand design of toppling said jujutsu society

Has experienced devastating loss which informs the grand design of his life's mission and he's always plotting, even when it comes to the seemingly altruistic act of "adopting" the Fushiguro kids or pressing Yuta and Yuji to learn under his care. When you consider that context, it furthers the idea that he's pretty divorced from emotion. Like, he wants them to have a childhood but its still at the pleasure of his convenience and ultimate purpose.

LOOK at this gorgeous, gorgeous boy from pop layer art because I need it and, when I covet, you must also covet. Edit: I'd accidently copied the wrong link there! It's been fixed 💙

In universe, we've seen maybe two canonical couples: Yuta & Rika and Hakari & Kirara (to be animated). This supports the fact that Gege's not really concerned with injecting "romance" into the plot unnecessarily. Undeniably and supporting the SatoSugu agenda, however, is the fact that JJK 0 very much aligned Gojo & Geto with Yuta & Rika with the theme coming to a head in season 2 with Gojo's sealment. For clarity, I mean how love ultimately cursed Rika and Geto after death by Yuta's begging her not to leave and Gojo not properly disposing of Geto's body. Love turned Rika into a curse and allowed Kenjaku to swoop in on Geto.

GETO'S POPULARITY

Geto is, quite literally, popular with everyone in universe and that was before he became a cult leader... which also indicates a predilection for popularity, I guess? As a character, he is principled, thoughtful, gentle and strong. I think, collectively, we tend to toil over the fact that Gojo spent more time missing Geto than he actually knew him. But... that's the same for Shoko and Nanami. After Geto's defection, Nanami couldn't forsake him even if he morally couldn't approve of his actions. Over ten years later as the night parade of a hundred demons is set to take place, Yaga starts saying something along the lines of finally getting rid of the scourge that is Suguru Geto and Shoko makes it a point to leave. I think it's because, after everything, she still holds affection and pity for Geto and would rather not hear him being bad-mouthed for breaking under the pressure of things.

He was the best of them, after all.

[rookthorne]

it's coming up to my personal favourite event of the year, Hot Bucky Summer, as run by the mods over at @buckybarnesevents!

in order to gear up for the chaos that will ensue (no doubt) from this event within my collections, I have compiled my personal top 10 Bucky collections into a poll. and here is where I will ask for your help — I would like to gather as much information as possible to determine where most of my focus will go.

to be clear, it is very likely that all of my collections will be given love and attention through this event (now that I have confidence to write smut) once I know the prompts, but I am asking who I should prioritise from my favourites. I will also disclose that there are AUs yet to be announced that will be very prominent... 🤭

to refresh memories, I have put below the cut the afforementioned collections! otherwise, the link is hyperlinked above, or easily accessed by the first link in my bio (my navigation).

thank you in advance for your help, my chaos kittens. 💗

— 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬

The 107th motorcycle club has been the protector of their collective hometown for many, many years - shouldering all the bloodshed and loss that came with it. Little did you know, you’d become the President’s own twisted version of an angel on his shoulder; the tips of your angelic wings tinged red by your own demons.

— 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯

A pack of wolves looked out for one another, strengthened each other and battled to keep one another safe – it was the natural order of things, the way things worked. Being between the two most dangerous and possessive of them all meant you sat on your throne with pride; just how they wanted it.

— 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to them and their irresistible charm – their job, as firemen, was to put out fires and infernos, but you could only hope they’d let the fire they started in the depth of your soul, consume you whole.

— 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 

The world of body art and botany had always been beautiful to you; each pencil stroke and each flower petal amounted to a masterpiece of creation. It wasn’t until the day that a chance meeting left you reeling amongst the artful blooms of your store, you wondered if that was what heaven truly felt like.

— 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

The depths of Hell had lost an asset, all thanks to you - no God could save you from his sights, or his clutches. Being consumed by fire was one way to go, you supposed, if it came in the form of one smug, hellish bastard.

— 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Life in your small town could not have gotten any better, you had sworn. That was until you started to call a handsome, brooding lumberjack your best friend, and you developed butterflies at any mention of his name, or thought of him. Sure, it was going to be fine, you could do this. What could go wrong?

— 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

Cars were all the same to you – classics, imports, you name it, they were all the same.

Well, they were, until you were nonetheless forced to visit your local mechanic and saw the man that would pique your interest in not only every single make and model of classic car, but his charming smile; the air of righteous arrogance that flowed from his tattoos, and that damned cheeky glint in his bright eyes.

— 𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨

Fate had a funny way of working. There you were, in the hospital again, and there was your favourite nurse; tall, broad, devilishly handsome, and not to mention soft, kind, and caring. Your stay, and consequently your life, just got infinitely more interesting.

— 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭

A powerful alpha had locked his sights onto you; a wolf to its prey. On the contrary, you were the fox that showed its belly to a predator – a mutual respect, the only thing keeping the wolf’s fangs from piercing the delicate flesh. You knew playing with his food was something he loved to do, and you would happily be the plaything for your mate. 

— 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

Softness was a trait you unwittingly carried - the wings of a dove taking you higher and higher, elevating you in the eyes of the devil. And that devil did not want to wait any longer. It was time to collect.

[mrhobiebrown]

SORRY... I MEANT *(2022)

GENRE: COMEDY HORROR, COMING-OF-AGE, SUPERNATURAL

PAIRING: WEDNESDAY ADDAMS X MALE!READER

INTERACTION: FLUFF (TEASING, FLIRTATION & CONSTANT REJECTION)

SEASON: I

EPISODE: I

LOADING...

It was October 18th, the middle of autumn and the beginning of Y/N's new life at Nevermore Academy a.k.a. "The School of Freaks." But it was unfortunate that the boy wasn't really "freaky" himself. He was just a regular mortal sent to a boarding school that was filled with abominations that could possibly kill him just for breathing the wrong way by his nightmarish parents. He laid in thought about this in the backseat of his Dad's tan pickup truck, pondering on how he was going to survive this new monstrous era in his life. But his series of mental distraught was interrupted by the shrieking voice of a happy Mother mixed with a wide smile peaking over the passenger's seat "How're you feeling my sweet little boy?!" She beamed.

He exhaled sharply through his nostrils in response to her bright mood that was mocking his dark one. "Great," Y/N deadpanned, looking out the window with his chin resting on his hand. "A little more enthusiasm would be appreciated," she disclosed, visibly feeling bittersweet at her son's response but shedding him the benefit of the doubt before continuing. "Your dad really worked his ass off to get-" she was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder from her spouse in the driver's seat, signaling her to watch her mouth in front of their child. "Sorry," she apologized before sitting back down in her seat. Y/N's father let out a deep sigh before speaking, "Look son, it might seem like a terrible experience but you should never judge a book by it's cover. You'll like it and I know you will," enunciated the father.

Y/N sighed at his father's words and resumed his pessimistic daydreaming. He was missing his old life already, not prepared to let go of the friends he made and the experiences he had back in his hometown. But now, he was about to go through 4 years of hell and another 4 years of training for the rat race that people call adulthood. He was nearing the school and the sight of it only caused him more internalized pain. The medieval like structure that has the audacity to be called a school in the 21st century, the pitch black ravens resting on the towers of the school, and the leaveless trees highlighting the dark clouds in the sky only made him feel like he was walking into a cemetery. "How the hell am I supposed to survive in this place?" Y/N muttered to himself.

As they pulled into the driveway, he spotted a tall Caucasian woman with short blonde hair and a long grey coat standing firmly in the doorway of the main entrance to the school. Y/N's dad parked the car and him and his mother quickly got out to greet the woman. After their initial greeting, Y/N's mother turns to him, beckoning him to get out of the car and to come and greet the lady. Before he decides to step out of the thing that he'll gladly consider home over this place, he grabs his bookbag and suitcase to make sure he had everything he needed to keep himself warm and clean. He strolls over to his Mom, dragging the suitcase on the ground along with him.

"Say hi Y/N and be nice," bubbled his Mother. The boy digged deep down to find the energy to say hi to her and restlessly succeeded. "Hey," he greeted the woman lethargically. The lady noticed his apathetic tone and behavior and glanced at each parent before bending down to his height and informing him, "Hey Y/N. My name is Larissa Weems but you can call me Principal Weems. I heard a lot of incredible things about you." She was looking forward to having a bit of small talk with him but he seemed like he wasn't a fan of it as he so physically displayed through his eyes staring deep into her soul. Weems raised back up when she realized that the incredible boy that his Mother talked about wasn't really a talker. She adjusted her coat and inhaled before telling them, "So, as the newest member of Nevermore Academy, it's in one of our top priorities to make sure our hospitality makes you feel right at home. But, how can you feel right at home if you don't know where everything is," chuckled Weems. He was very interested on how this random lady would make him feel like he was back in his hometown. He giggled out of amusement before responding, "Well... we'll see about that."

"Oh no, I won't be providing you the hospitality that you'll surely love. She will." She twinkled, before moving to the side and revealing a short pale Hispanic girl with a monochrome Nevermore Academy uniform on and a serious facial expression directed at Y/N.

Y/N's parents jumped at the sight of her but quickly felt guilty of their reaction to the pig-tailed girl's appearance. Him and the girl locked eyes as Weems uttered, "So Wednesday, you'll be in charge of tourism and making him feel like this is just a second home for him." "You'll hate it here." Wednesday chimed in monotonously. Y/N laughed at her sudden statement before nodding, agreeing with her pessimistic statement. "Wednesday!" Weems chastised, she recognized herself snapping and quickly gained a more professional display for the parents in front of her. "Anyways, Y/N go and follow Wednesday and I'll keep your lovely parents company."

Wednesday strode away from the group and Y/N followed her. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and pulls his suitcase with him and sets off with the peculiar tourist guide. "There's the tennis courts where only tennis players can play on. So if you ever decide to participate in such activities, sign up for the tennis team," Wednesday pointed out. "And that's the soccer field next to the tennis courts and the requirements to play on that field is the same as the tennis ones so keep that in mind." "Do you play any sports?" Y/N suddenly questioned, attempting to spark up a conversation with her. She stopped in her tracks and turned to face the boy before replying to him, "No. Why?" queried Wednesday. "Just asking." Y/N enlightened with a mysterious grin. "What are you smiling about?" He wiped the smile off of his face and cleared his throat when she called him out on his odd behavior before answering her question, "The obvious fact that you don't want to do this. Look, we can just skip this and you can take me to my dorm so I can get this stuff off of my back. I'm tired." Wednesday snickered at his evident observation prior responding, "I appreciate your scrutiny because it's true. If I could just skip to you being in your dorm and me being focused on more important things... than I would. But, a falcon has us under surveillance so Principal Weems can make sure I follow through with her orders." Y/N narrowed his eyes at her, confused on what she just said about a falcon filming them. Wednesday looked up at what she was talking about which made the boy turn around to only find out she wasn't lying. It was a brown falcon on a tree facing them directly, hawking loudly.

"But anyways, suck it up and come on. I don't have all day," she dictated before turning back around and continuing on the tour guide. So after several minutes of constant lectures on monuments, she finally decided to take Y/N to the inside of the alma mater.

The inside appearance gave off a gothic medieval aesthetic that slightly intrigued the boy but the eerie look of the interior still didn't save him from the excruciating boredom his mind was going through. Wednesday and Y/N approached the entrance of the courthouse prior to her commentary, "So here lies the abominable cliques that infest the hallways of Nevermore. We got the Fangs which are vampires, the Furs which are werewolves, and the Stoners which are gorgons. Which one are you?" She asked, turning around and facing him. Y/N paused at the question because he was unfortunately neither. He took a deep breath before answering her question, "None of these, sadly. I'm mortal." "You're lying!" Wednesday deadpanned, slightly raising her voice at him. "How can you be a mortal attending a school only fit for freaks like myself? Are you stupid?" ”No, I'm not stupid. I'm mortal." Y/N corrected in a smart aleck manner. Wednesday responded to the boy's wiseacre behavior with a icy stare, clearly displaying that she wasn't finding anything funny about the situation at hand. "We need to get you to Principal Weems so we can solve this issue. So come on." Wednesday instructed, begining to walk away from Y/N. "Or we can go to my assigned dorm... alone." flirted Y/N, turning around to face her. Wednesday wrinkled her nose at his sorry attempt at flirtation before uttering, "Ew," and continuing to walk away.

Y/N's chest tightened at her feedback to his disheartening charisma that he ol' so tried desperately displaying to swoon her. He began to follow her. A few minutes later, they walked up to Principal Weems sitting at her desk, sipping tea out of a white mug, enjoying her day with no worries in the world. "Hey kids, how was the tour?" asked Weems. "It was great... until I realized that you allowed a mortal into a school of supernatural abominations. Are you trying to get him killed?" confronted Wednesday, her tone sounding firm.

Weems placed her mug on the desk previous to delivering her response to Wednesday's question, "No, of course not! I was just very considerate of Y/N's parents hard work to get him into this school. How would you feel if you traveled to another state just to put your child into a specific school and the principal of that school waved you off because your child was too 'normal'?" inquired Weems. "I would show you immense gratitude later on in life because you didn't let my mind boggling stupidity get my kid devoured." Weems rolled her eyes and let out a sigh at the girl's condescending tone before standing up from her chair and walking over to her. "Look, I'm sure that no one would feel the irrepressible urge to inflict major harm to this wonderful young man. And, even if they did, I'm sure you'll be a great bodyguard," the tall lady assured, bending down at the girl's level to enforce a feeling of ease.

Wednesday squinted at her words, feeling irritated at her neglectful attitude. "I will not be his bodyguard and he will not stay in this school!" She stated vigorously. "Do I need to reach the Board of Education to get this solved? Or can you actually do your job?" Weems raised at her threat with bulging eyes, animating with anger. "I don't take lightly to threats little girl, especially blackmail. So if I even have a tiny clue on you communicating with the Board, I'll have you expelled and sent to a therapeutic boarding school. I heard they have a good reputation of turning troubled kids lives around. They'll probably teach you some manners," she growled. She began to stroll back over to her desk, "You probably don't have a ounce of empathy in your body Wednesday, but I do," Weems declared as she sat back down in her seat, flinging her legs on the wide ebony table and raising the white mug to her lips which were covered in matte red lipstick. "Now, take Y/N to his beloved dorm," Weems smiled, suddenly changing her expression from anger to joy as she felt victorious in her and the girl's confrontation. Wednesday let out a irritated sigh and turned around to face Y/N scratching his head. "I would kind of like it if you was my bodygua-" Y/N uttered before being cut off, "Shut up. Come on," she interrupted. "Alright," he obliged humorously.

They began on their way towards his dorm and when they finally arrived Y/N was confused at how empty it was. "Where's my roommate?" he asked. "You will not be having a roommate because you're a mortal. We're taking precautionary measures for your own safety. Be grateful," the girl informed. "I mean... you can be my roommate." Wednesday snapped his head at him, "It's called the boys dorm for a reason. Boys... only." "And I thought this school was called 'The School of Freaks' for a reason. But, as you can see there are exceptions," countered Y/N. Wednesday squinted his eyes at him whilst sauntering right up to him, emitting an intimidating aura. "Listen to me very closely and carefully mortal," she commanded, "I'm listening," Y/N responded facetiously. "I don't appreciate your awful attempts at the art of seduction. I'm a girl that is obsessed with death and macabre with the addition of a sadistic streak and you're a boy that's... just a boy. I don't have any intentions of romance with you considering the fact that you probably won't even be here long enough to experience that. So get whatever disgusting thoughts you have in that head of yours and throw it away to somewhere that you'll never see again. But anyways, goodbye." The girl walked out of the room and the sound of the door closing behind her echoed throughout the dorm.

The boy felt clueless on what to do next. He dropped his bags on the floor prepartory to uttering, "What the hell has my parents got me into?"

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Disclosed

Pairing: dark!Brian Braddock x Black Reader, dark!Capt Britain x Black Reader

Summary: You thought your new hiding spot was nearly perfect.

photo credit to ApexForm

The harsh glare of grocery store lights against the dark you strode in from made you squint. You were slow to adjust, as you only ventured out for supplies after 12 am. Day in and day out, your life became a series of timed alarms when it was best to leave the safety of your haven.

Hiding didn’t suit you, but it was necessary. After all, you were an important piece of the intergalactic, interdimensional puzzle the Avengers longed to get their hands on. But overall you were a nobody. A wrong place at the wrong timer who just happened to walk into the middle of the biggest heist of the century. And while you could have done without being associated with corrupt cartels to hide you away, you were grateful in a way that you were out of the fray. 

You knew who hunted you the most though. Out of all them Captain Britain seemed to take a special interest in keeping you on your toes. And tonight, this early morning, wasn’t any different. Brian Braddock was hell-bent on bringing you in.

The moment you stepped out of the sliding doors of the grocery store your brain set blaze to the paranoia that stayed primed. You scurried along the brick wall past the giant windows and prayed any light would somehow cast enough shadow if anyone was directly watching. And the buzz of apprehension coursing through your body quickly converted to fear. 

On the other side of the store, just beyond the boundary between where the lot light ended and complete darkness began came a rustling sound. It was a cat, you reminded yourself. It had to be a cat, you thought.

Either way, you walked toward it, in the direction of your safe house as a chill crawled up your spine. You crossed over the threshold quickly down the sidewalk. The tall grass growing between empty lots where businesses used to stand did little to curb the fright. 

You were almost there. It was just suspicion and with good reason to be too. They had killed nearly all the people who had helped you along the way. And the first and last time you came in contact with the devilish Captain Britain, he had left his scars.

A few more blocks away and you could practically see the outline of your apartment front door nestled in the run-down, dingy white, Fair Valley Inn. You hated this walk on the best of nights but this, the sound from above, on the tops of the abandoned buildings had you almost jogging with your bags down the side-walk.

And you made it. You didn’t take a full breath until the door behind you was locked down tight. You rested your forehead against the mottled-colored door.

“You could have just turned yourself in,” said a man’s voice.

Panic set in once again as you flipped around, back against the door, and stared into your small kitchenette. 

“All of this running just makes you look guilty. And you know how much I dislike repeating the same action.” 

The man rounded the dirty fridge, dressed in jeans, a plain white shirt with a shiny silver chain peeking out above the collar. The ruffled dark locks, square jaw, and slit blue eyes stared back at you with a slick smile across his lips.

“You don’t have a quick-witted remark for me this go around?”

Braddock tilted his head slightly, “Oh, you just have tears to offer?” 

They slid down your cheeks.

“I didn’t see anything,” you whispered. “Nothing at all...” your voice shook with the beat of your heart.

He stepped closer to you, and you pushed yourself harder against the door.

“I’m not convinced of that.”

Braddock’s leer swept your body before returning to your face. “I think I deserve a reward.”

“After all, they only need you to speak,” he added.

He pulled you from the door with a grip on your right wrist and threw you to the floor. You twisted around and locked eyes with the hard glare just behind you. And you froze.

All of the running, the being hunted, the possibilities that always ran through your mind came to fruition. They found you, he had you.

Braddock lunged and you flinched into a frightful mound. He pulled your jeans, underwear, and shoes off with one tug leaving you unraveled, flat on your belly and still shivering with fear. Somewhere in the cold air of your apartment and the warmth of his body shedding you of the clothes on your back he buried his face from behind into your folds. It didn’t matter that finally, you reacted, you tried to pry yourself out of his grip but it was useless. 

Or that the silky string of tears had turned into wrecked and desperate sobs. You didn’t want to give him credit. You thought of it as the answer to terror. The pressure coming to a head of not being able to escape. So you wept with anger.

You were still fighting when he crawled over the backs of your legs and his chest pressed against your back. He fisted a good bit of your hair and craned your neck back at the same moment he tilted his cock up with the other hand. Your face scrunched into a grimace the second he forced what felt like a baseball bat up inside you. 

And Braddock stilled. His heavy breaths panted into your ear as his lips touched the delicate surface of your skin. 

“Fuck,” he whispered. “I’ve been imagining this for the last six months,” he confessed.

Braddock pulled one of your arms behind your back, the other hand still locked on your hair he used your body. He kept you still as he began to pump. Hot skin on cool. His pelvis brushed and softly touched the roundness of your ass. 

What started out as a brutal pace of ramming himself straight into you quickly dissolved into tender slick movements of in and out. He thinks perhaps to indulge you, imprint upon you the length and girth he has to offer.

Maybe he was afraid to truly break you too. Maybe he was losing his resolve mid-act but he didn’t stop.

He released your arm and placed his shaky hand over the column of your smooth throat. He pushed into your now slick, wet parts without recourse to your pained gasps. 

“I think I’m in love,” Braddock grunted as his rhythm turned sloppy and greedy.

Your eyes squeezed tight while every breath you tried to take in was quickly rushed out by his pressing weight.

“You belong to me now.” Something in his voice floated between ecstasy and unrequited hate. 

“Unless you want them to use you?” Braddock picked up the pace again, his fingers clamped down on the sides of your neck.

“No!” you gargled out.

“Say it,” he ordered. “Tell me who you belong to!” 

“Captain Britain!” you croaked. “I belong to Brian Braddock!”

He hitched back on the vice grip across your neck and lightly kissed the side of your face. 

You could hear the smile in his voice, “And maybe I’ll leave you with a little piece of me too.”

What voice you had left whittled away at a moaned no.

Braddock’s chuckles melted into a deep gravelly hiss as he continued to bury himself to the hilt. 

“Perfectly fit for breeding,” he groaned. His head dropped to your shoulder, he turned his lips to your neck and began to bite into the tender skin. Huffing and groaning to meet your sobs he began to lose focus. 

And then suddenly his head popped up and he growled into your ear. His hips twitched while every muscle in his body went rigid. You felt it, his warm seed spurting and seeping around the seal he created.

Braddock let go of your head but kept his hand on your throat. He was still inside you, just as hard as he began, and laid there on top of you. Placing pecks from your hairline to jaw and then back to your ear.

“I think we have some time yet,” he murmured. 

“For my girl, I have all the time in the world.”

[stringcage]

15 questions | 15 people

Rules: answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people

thanks for tagging me @greenybeanyyy !!

Are you named after anyone? My mom named me after a character from a movie but i do not like the movie so i will not be disclosing the title at this time  😈

When was the last time you cried? Last night. Fun fact I cried nearly every day in January and I’m shooting for Feb as well!!

Do you have kids? No

What’s the first thing you recognize about people? probably their height idk?

What’s your eye color? Blue

Scary movies or happy ending? Happy endings :) but scary movies are fun sometimes

Any special talent? I have great control of my nostrils

Where were you born? USA. tragically i was born in the midwest ( 🚩) luckily i managed to escape for the remainder of my upbringing but not luckily i am back there once again :/ been planning my escape tho!!

What are your hobbies? I have soooo many hobbies i draw i read i write i play a couple instruments i sew. one of my cooler nicher hobbies imo is doll making which is a lot of fun!!

Do you have any pets? i have a dog !! i’m at college and i miss her every day :(

What sports do you play/have you played? i was on a rowing crew last semester but i quit lmao. i did volleyball in middle school

How tall are you? 5’8-5′9 ish

Favorite subject at school? english girlie 4 life B) i also liked french in high school

Dream job? i’m still not really sure but i’m studying to become an editor atm. my ultimate ultimate dream is to publish my books someday

tagging

@treasureofmy-heart @if-you-give-a-gay-a-vampire @the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see @grieving4theliving @i-have-a-dark-charm   uhhhh im sorry thats way less than 15 people im sorry

[zaritarazi]

onwards (six of crows red dead redemption franchise au)

There’s a suspicious lull, a rare window in the time they have to finish their meal before nightfall, when business really begins. “And what about the man that’s been following you?”

Jesper points to himself, muscle-memory or habit, and when Inej shakes her head, his sort of general nonchalance turns quickly. He looks to Kaz with “You’re being followed?” 

It’s the nonresponse that makes the situation worse, Kaz pointedly ignoring the way the room’s turn to pin the light on him as he pretends to finish his meal.

“By-” Jesper offers, to fill the space. “Not by anyone important, right? Not a lawman. Right?” He tilts his head forward, a gesture that’s supposed to goad Kaz into making the next sentence. “You wouldn’t just-”

And maybe Kaz had only kept the pretense of his meal so he could toss down his fork, a gesture that makes Wylan jump. “I am being… pestered,” Kaz says, and he would shoot Wylan some kind of look of sympathy, but he first has to glare at Inej. 

It's not entirely shocking, how intensely she returns it.

“An accountant,” Kaz says, looking to his lap, tossing his napkin on his plate. “And mostly just a nuisance.”

The light above them glows too brightly, filament not spaced out quite right, and it holds the silence of the room trying to gauge where Kaz has hidden the half-truth in his statement. 

That’s the fun thing about Kaz. The lie might not be there yet- It might not come until later. He likes to hide it, likes to watch everyone sift for the story first.

“An accountant?” Nina asks. “Like a tax man?”

“A tax-man is just another word for Pinkerton,” Kaz says.

“So what, then,” Jesper says. “Like… a debt collector?”

“Who’s going to collect on Kaz?” Wylan asks. 

Kaz validates him with an errant point of his index finger. “And who would know we’re stranded up here?”

“That is a great question,” Nina says. “So what’s the answer, Kasimir?”

“You’re all so dense,” he snaps. “No one knows we’re here. I’m being lightly tailed, sometimes, by a local. Someone from around here.”

“Matthias,” Inej says. “Can’t you do what makes you useful?”

Matthias pulls his attention from the window and the darkening night sky. “What?”

“Inej wants you to beat up an accountant,” Nina says.

“Any one of us could beat up an accountant,” Inej says. “You know the area.”

“You’d like me to go through every accountant…” Matthias says. “In Fjedra?”

“I’ll draw him, if Kaz describes him,” Wylan says.

“Inej can describe him,” Kaz says, holding out his hand to her, a mockery of an offering. “Since she’s been paying such close attention.”

“I haven’t lived in these mountains since I was ten years old,” Matthias says. “How am I going to know?”

“Maybe he’s from the capital,” Jesper says.

“Matthias isn’t good with faces,” Nina says. “His memory lapses from time to time.”

“I remember everything that’s ever happened to me,” Matthias says. “What I choose to disclose-”

“Are you two fighting, still?” Jesper says. “I wasn’t sure if you were passing it off to the other two, or if you’d made up- I’ve seen him drag himself to your room right before the sun rises, but-”

“I don’t know,” Matthias says. “Nina prefers to surprise me.”

“Oh, we’re talking about surprises?” Nina says.

“He’s tall,” Inej interrupts, putting her hand down on the table, looming beside Kaz. “He wears a very fine suit. Whoever he is, he’s very rich.”

“Accountants are rich,” Kaz says. 

“You should’ve been an accountant, then,” Inej grouses. 

“I’m well aware, Inej dear,” Kaz says. “But how could I deny you the pleasure of the backwater mountains of this frozen, horrible country?”

“This is a beautiful country,” Matthias seethes. “But… there are not many rich men. Not many who are very rich, I mean.”

“I don’t know how you’d like me to draw this,” Wylan says. “What kind of suit is it? Did he have a vest, or just a jacket? Was he wearing a tie? Black? Navy? What’s the twill? Single or double breasted?”

“He looked like he worked at a funeral parlor,” Inej says.

Kaz shrugs. “Maybe he has two jobs.”

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Can I ask some questions about him, without anything that can spoil the plot? Meg, please, please don't just smile this is the fairy lore I need to know-

If he's the baby brother, how tall he is? Is Lunar still the tiniest one?

2. Can we have at least approximative time when he was born and/or when he was sailed away? We already know that he was sealed before the boys met Nan

3. Is his clothes made by himself or by humans?

4. Is he a fairy? If so, is he a helper one? We know the sundrop fairies don't get helpers, but still

5. Does Lunar know about him?

6. How does his fairy type called (if he's a fairy)? We have the Sundrop fairy, the Moondrop fairy, and the Blue Moon fairy, so he is..?

7. WHEN AND HOW WILL THE VEIL OPEN, I AM READY FOR EVERYTHING INCLUDING BLOODY DEMONIC RITUAL-

Meg, I am serious, if you won't give me the lore, I... won't do anything, actually... BUT I'm gonna torture you with questions and theories >:D

1. yes :3

2. Sun and Moon are a few centuries old. Lunar is roughly 3/4 of a century old. If I had to make a rough guess, he is around a century and 25 years.

3. fairy-made

4. not a helper

5. he will

6. you’ll see :3

7. I cannot disclose that information at this time :3c

It’s fun watching you guys get excited for his inevitable arrival. And please, feel free to bombard me with questions and theories, and we’ll see if I can answer them X3c

[missisjoker]

The entrance to the Afterlife Immigration Office was slightly ajar, escaping energy buzzing and radiating through the heavy wooden door, making Lee Yeon miss a step. The usual annoyed and erratic flow of Taluipa’s power was muffled by something overwhelmingly still, like the air before a thunderstorm. There was a tall, slender figure standing next to Taluipa’s table, dressed in a cassock.

 Since when do catholic priests pass through here? That’s new.

The man (a man?) spared him a glance and turned back to Taluipa, “This one won’t do.  I need the pretty one”.

Yeon felt scandalized, “I am pretty!”

The man chuckled at the pouting gumiho,and turned back to the old hag,

“Should I?”

Taluipa all but hissed,

“No need, allow me. Lee Yeon, during the lunar eclipse last Sunday, 13 demons broke the sacred seal and escaped the seventh hell”,

“Fifteen demons,”

“And formed a crack.. “

“A fissure”.

“In the Hell gate. This belligerent angel demands our cooperation in closing it because leaking blight can cause an outbreak around the globe”.

The man – the angel -  nodded, “That part is accurate”.

An angel?

Of course, no one from Joseon world would ever dare to interrupt the guardian of Samdo River so brazenly.

“An angel wearing a human body?”

Lee Yeon strolled slowly to the table, relaxing his shoulders and smiling in curiosity, trying not to give away the cold tingling in his spine. Taluipa was shaking with fury, staring at Yeon unblinking, but the fox’s full attention was on the guest next to her. The man was young, very handsome, nothing visibly extraordinary except for a faint blue gleam of his eyes that only a Gumiho’s vision could notice.

“Borrowing, with the owner’s explicit permission. Can’t go around in my natural form in the age of ticktock.”

Yeon hummed in agreement,

“True. I guess you know who I am?”

“Of course, have been following your work for a while. Big fan, especially that part where you couldn’t kill one imoogi for six hundred years”.

Lee Yeon unsheathed his sword, pointing at the angel.

“How do you want to be split, vertically or horizontally?”

The angel looked unperturbed, then gestured up and down his body, and side to side, musing,

“Horizontally. Now, do we have an agreement?”

“Agreement on what?”

Taluipa let out a heavy sigh, but the angel spoke before her,

“We need a half-blooded gumiho tethered to both worlds to close the fissure, and it’s either your three-year-old daughter or your brother.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Yeon’s grip on the sword faltered.

“But Rang-ah is dead…He has been reincarnated”.

“His soul is still stuck in that magic purse.”

What?

“It is not his soul, it is his essence…”

The angel’s eyes flashed pale blue, the glow reflected in Talupia’s glasses, making Yeon blink faster,

“Arguing the semantics now, are we? A part of him that gave him life has been given to another child, but his soul is still in that filthy little magic pouch, as it has been for the past 13 years.”

The angel turned to Taluipa who stared back at Yeon, visibly paler.  

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I not supposed to disclose that?”

The angel’s words sunk into Yeon’s stomach like a meal he couldn’t digest.

“I asked you, ajumma”.

Taluipa’s eyes were soft, almost pleading,

“Not now, Yeon”.

“I begged you!”

“Should’ve begged harder, “ – The angel’s words slashed at Yeon and his eyes started burning,

“You have three days.”

Taluipa slammed her hand on the table, making the Gumiho flinch,

“No matter how much you threaten me in my own office, it can’t be done”.

The air suddenly shifted around them and grew colder,  viscous like tree sap, drawing out all noises, leaving only the muffled beating of Yeon’s heart echoing in his ears, and a sudden rush of fear made Yeon’s hackles rise. The angel never moved, never raised his voice, the sound of it floating around them like a wisp of smoke, but it still knocked the breath out of Yeon’s chest.

“So far, all I did was ask politely, but if you lie to me again, I will shatter you like glass and piss on your bones. That was a threat, feel the difference?”

Taluipa stumbled backwards and grabbed onto a chair to stop herself from falling, but Yeon didn’t care.

“Is it possible? Is bringing Rang-ah back possible?“

“Once his soul is free from that purse,”

- the angel spat the word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth,

“the spark of life can be replaced to resurrect him. If your side can’t provide one – I will”.

“Why are you so hellbent on getting my brother?”

“Hellbent?” The corners of the angel’s mouth curled up in a smile as Yeon shrugged,

“You know what I mean”.

“This office with astonishingly subpar performance needs a well-trained guardian that can do his job, and your brother is a great candidate. He came to me once, but I wasn’t convinced he deserved the intervention. Luckily for both of you, I’ve since changed my mind.”

“He came to a church to pray?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call that a prayer. He was shamelessly drunk, broke into the church in the dead of night, scared the nuns, and asked my priest for a way to get you back to him. Even promised he’d serve our Lord for all eternity. It was very touching, I almost shed a tear. And after he sacrificed his life for yours,  I’ve decided he deserved another chance.”

“But it’s been 13 years!”

“Is he my brother or yours?”

Yeon stayed silent as the angel continued,

“I’ve been busy. But, now the time has come. Besides, I doubt you’ll willingly agree to have your toddler close the fissure instead, and I’d rather not kill a member of endangered species. And the only alternative to the binding spell is divine judgment.”

“Divine judgment?”

The angel shrugged,

“I nuke the city.”

Taluipa, who had been forgotten for a moment, stared at the angel in horror,

“You will kill many innocents in the process!”

“You let three hundred innocents die by imoogi’s plague to save one woman’s life. Do not lecture me”.

The woman straightened her shoulders and smoothed non-existent wrinkles on her vest, regaining her posture.

“I will ask king Yeomra”.

“And I appreciate that.”

The angel moved so fast Yeon had to fox-run to catch up to him outside,

“Is it going to kill him?”

“What?”

“The binding spell, is it going to kill him?”

The angel stopped,

“No, but it will hurt like a bitch”.

“And when it’s done, what then? “

The angel gave Yeon a long, stern look,

“Why are you so hellbent on NOT having him back?”

Lee Yeon swallowed hard, Rang-ah’s Bye, huyung, clawing at  his heart again, making the old wound bleed, 

“I would love nothing more than to see Rang-ah again, but I don’t want him to be locked in a slave contract with you”.

The angel waved him off,  

“It is not a slave contract, it’s not even a full-time job offer. More of a …. Retainer in case of future emergencies.”

“And if he refuses?”

“He won’t; that boy was born to be a hero. I expect great things from him.”

“He is only half-blood, what if he can’t… “

“Why would I doubt him? Faith is my business.”

With that the angel looked up to the sky and nodded Yeon goodbye,

“Now if you’ll excuse me,”

And suddenly the heavy presence was gone, the pressure lifted and the sounds of a busy city reached Yeon’s ears again.

He found himself standing face-to-face with one very, very confused priest.

“Oh, sorry, she does that sometimes.”

“She?”

“Yes, the angel you’ve just spoken to. So, um, I’m Father Yohan. Would you mind if I use your phone to call a taxi?”

[dballzposting]

HI i had a horrible dragon ball thought and thought i should send it to you because i haven't done that in a long time :(

love stumbling across screenshots that remind me that akira toriyama doesn't give a shit about canonical heights EVER and just says numbers when asked and doesn't follow said numbers.

Like i was taking a peep at the manga because i want to learn how to replicate the art style (my most serious art has already been damaged by the dragon balls i draw and i say it like... damaged. but i don't mean that i think thats a good thing because thats what i want) and i find these bits from the 23rd tenkaichi budokai where Yamcha (6'0") and Tien (6'2") are both like a head taller than Goku (5'9") which... no they aren't lol. but it's fun to think that they are so I'll incorporate that into my belief system regardless.

And i also found this one picture from the end of the anime (equally inaccurate about numbers which i find delightful. i am incredibly amused by this.) where Goten (??) is like also a head shorter than Trunks (5'7"? probably, that's how tall future him was at that age idk man who fucking knows. not me.) which would probably put Goten at like... Vegeta height in terms of dragon ball inaccuracies because 17 year old Future Trunks was depicted as being considerably taller than his father in canon.

And that's generally insane because as far as i'm aware Goten is usually depicted to be vaguely taller than Trunks when they grow up to what should be their full heights in fan works? which is fair because Trunks is REALLY doing his best with what he has (Vegeta dna)

Also about Trunk's height- future Trunks (malnourished by saiyan standards... and probably earthling standards too) is really only 5 cm shorter than Goku?? which is not even much actually, Future Trunks is about as tall as LIONEL MESSI which, sure I'm Argentinian and that's my like referent for short men sue me... but that's hilarious because Goku is only 5 cm taller than that like what. and adult Gohan is only 6 cm taller than that! because he's only a single fucking centimeter taller than Goku! why is he only a fucking centimeter taller than his father. who even cares about that. him? probably not.

Also to expand onto the Vegeta Height Goten thing, that'd be so funny personally because i feel like the second neurotic ass SON OF VEGETA Trunks notices this he would tear his own hair out, i think he would resent that fact with everything he had. i don't even quite know why he would hate it yet, but i do know that he wouldn't be a fan of it.

But of course none of this fucking matters. because akira toriyama is a bitchass motherfucker and if i had a wife he would piss on her.

-Yui7 after getting back from talking about Dragon ball and how much he misses Goku for like a half a day.

Hi I forgot about this ask and it has sat in my inbox for 9 slutty slutty days.

IT'S TRUE!!!!!! THE HEIGHTS ARE A MESS!!!!!!

To be fair it must be hard to give a shit when you're depicting multiple characters in complex scenes and poses and angles all of the time.

BUT THEN WHY TRY TO DISCLOSE NUMBERS AT ALL !??!?!??!

I get the impression that he just draws characters as they feel. Even though Goku went through a growth spurt before the 23rd tenkaichi budokai, he's still younger than the others and he's still always been an aspiring young shoot, so Tenshinhan and Yamucha still need to be taller (and therefore more mature) than him.

That's why Vegeta steadily got taller as he gained wisdom and muscle mass.... he had to look more important.

Goten is kept shorter than Trunks consistently, except in GT I feel like they're allowed to be on-par. But they're both definitely taller than Vegeta I mean come on.

If the real meaning comes from visual impressions then I'll be on record as saying that watching Future Trunks on-screen you definitely see one TALL STACK of fresh organic non-GMO free-range Super Saiyan BEEF. Perhaps he should be shorter like his father. But when have animes cared about genetics

Trunks is always a tall bitch and Goku is always so tall and Gohan is always so tall and Goten even is so tall. They're all so tall. And then they keep making Vegeta taller too.

Krillin just has no chance

[mslanna]

Disclosed Desires

Chapter 4 of A Mortifying Ordeal now up on AO3

95% smut. You can skip when he vanishes his clothes.

I have no idea how I got through that dinner. The food was delicious, like utterly out of my budget and Raphael just sat there like a statue of Adonis only looking better and alive. Has the world ever seen eyes so brown? Probably not because it didn't implode and gods know I was so close.

Also, that voice. Once he realised The Purr had me in a stranglehold, he defaulted to it. Kept quizzing me about Baldur's Gate 3, too. Embarrassing and the one thing that saved the chair I sat on. I'm bad at meta, won't lie, so trying to explain things to him was pretty excruciating.

He kept insisting on me having a favourite way to play dialogues and such being a sign of me remembering and trying to be who I was before. Looking at that sopping soft guy who hid a complete devil under that face, was close to making me believe. No other reason anybody's pursue me with such fervour. But then I also have a favourite way to play Dragon Age 2 and I'm certainly no Hawke.

The thought of Varric turning up and trying to convince me to return to Kirkwall stuck around for almost half a minute. Mind you, he wouldn't have such convincing arguments for making me want to be Hawke and return.

Raphael, though? He's truly impossible, not gonna lie. I have to admire his staunch belief that I am in fact his Tav!Tav. Almost enough to make me doubt myself.

And gods do I wanna be them. He woos with the fierceness of a thousand suns, looking about as hot. Doesn't help if he's in his human form, guy is on fire! And not backing off. I am be as red as his devil skin when we arrive back at my room. Godsdamned, it is shabby. I am shabby. And he doesn't even care.

Also, he's utterly gorgeous. Tall. I have A Thing for tall guys, might be a reason none of my guys was under 2 meters. And in devil form Raphael is even taller. And so big. Need I say I wanna be all over him? Probably not, I am thirsty. I am horny and I want to cry so bad.

Poor sod deserves better. Deserves his actual real Tav. I know they'd love him so good. Kiss every inch of that man. Empty him like the last capri sun on the planet. Damn, they lucky. And I just have a finger under my chin and stare up into those damning eyes. Needs a licence for those, he does.

"Having second thoughts?"

Gah, I hate the soft insecurity in his voice. "Not about the – the thing itself no." Honesty, I whack myself internally. Honesty served me well so far. Gotta keep it up. "I wanna bang you so bad. 'til we both see stars and worse."

"But?"

"I know you think I'm your Tav. And man do I wish I was." I take his hand that holds my chin between mine. "But I'm not and you – you deserve better," I sigh. Can't hold his gaze either.

Waiting for him to react is the worst. My flight or flight instinct kicks in hard and my heart at least listens and pumps like mad. Thanks body.

Raphael is silent way too long. Probably having second thoughts himself and third thoughts and fourth thoughts, too. He's a crafty one. What am I even thinking? He got better things to do with his life than me. Which is why I can't let the Tav angle go. It's my one and only chance to get my hands on him. I am corrupt down to the bone. Or at least down to the cunt.

Doesn't help I had a taste already after amarettini and espresso. How he tastes so good, flavoured with almond and coffee. It's a small miracle we ended up in my room again and not in jail for public fornication. Coulda climbed him like a tree there and then.

"I appreciate your concern," he finally says. "It is very – consistent for you to put me and my feelings before yourself despite your obvious state. Please know that I acknowledge your worry, though I do not share it. Of course it is up to you, if you want to proceed. I will accept your withdrawal, much as it pains me. But you don't have to do anything more than let your gut guide you. Trust me."

How did he make so many words for before getting to the point. I get lost in his voice immediately and barely surface for the final 'trust me'.

"I do." Gods it is the most stupid thing ever. But I trust him. And I want to believe him, not only because his voice is utterly gorgeous but also because he says things I am desperate to hear. I want to believe so bad.

"Then, with that out of the way, you should ignore your misgivings for now. "

Wish it was that easy. Like, in theory it is, people making their own decisions, being their own people and you having to accept that. But it is hard to watch somebody you love, of fuck, I'm up in delulu-land further than the maps chart it. Still, it is hard to watch him throw himself uselessly at the nearest lump that looks like his Tav.

He must read my hesitation all wrong (unsurprising) because he takes my hand and brings it up to his lips. Damn demon devil. The way his index finger pokes into my palm is outrageously suggestive for it being mere hands. Good lord, sir what those fingers do?

"Maybe it will help bringing your memories back." He straightens with that predatory smile and my inhibitions don't even pretend to put up a fight.

"You fucked?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"You know that Tav fucking Haarlep and you fucking Haarlep in Tav's form isn't really you two fucking, yes?"

"Well," he grins like a wolf, "maybe it is time then to do the real thing."

In a swoosh of hellfire. Raphael transforms and also, sheds all of his clothes. I freeze except for my mouth that manages to go completely dry and water at the same time. Raphael's smile turns sharps as a knife as he points downwards. "Kneel."

Oh. Oh, hot damn, I will. I so will. But first – I cannot not touch him. His chest is broad and inviting and the skin is hot and all those ridges swirling everywhere. Gods strike me down if he didn't shudder when I placed my hand on him. He's burning under my fingers that move down his sides, up his arms and head. I can't reach very high on the horns but it doesn't matter. They feel alive under my palms, rugged.

The smile spreading on my face threatens to split it in half. Raphael is a sight. A whole banquet. More than I can hope to ever eat and most likely more than my mouth can hold. My hands round back over his shoulders, feathering over the collarbones. So many delicious ridges. I wanna bite them all. Nibble and munch until my jaw tires.

"Something you like?" His tone is only half mocking. "I am not used to having my orders disobeyed."

My eyes hitch on his mouth, that moves temptingly as he speaks. "Kiss me." I don't think. And when his hands alight on my sides, I jump at him, wrap myself around him any way possible and strain towards his lips.

Raphael laughs, low, and I feel it hum through my body. He takes it slow, lips tantalisingly out of reach until they meet mine ever so softly. I moan. He tastes so good. And as soon as his tongue demands tribute, I open up and swallow it whole.

Bad in bed whatever. He can kiss. If I didn't cling to him like a desperate koala, I would have melted into a puddle on the floor. As things are. My with feet hooked at the small of his back my legs can go as wobbly as they want. I am secure against him, ruining my pants and trousers too. Totes worth it.

He pries me off way too soon. The coronas in his black hole eyes burst with fire. "On your knees," he repeats and the low rumble is in itself enough to send me to the floor.

Not quickly, mind you. Can't pass on the chance to kiss all them ridges. And that is obviously allowed. My hand vanguards between his legs and damn. He's big. He's full of bumps and ridges I can't wait to pommel my insides with. But first – the chest. Only a little hair remains, but I'll take it.

As long as my head is on a slow descent, I can nibble on the red skin wherever. Don't care if my moans are louder than his. I'm in heaven. His problem now. Then I reach the happy trail and boy does it make me happy. I want to slurp it up, swoosh down and suck up the whole devil cock first.

Taking time is so hard, but then, so is he. Oh how delicious to arrive at a full on erection. My fingers mover over the pronounced ridges, feeling for future pleasure as I lean in. He's got a little crown of bumps just under the tip that looks absolutely delish.

A hand slips under my chin and raises my head. "Look at me."

Oh hot damn, if that's how he wants to play it. I lock my eyes to his and slip my lips over the very tip of his cock ever so slowly. He's so very still I can feel the tremble of his muscles tense to keep in place. I press the tip of my tongue against his tip, move it slowly, keep his eyes caught. This is a battle of wills he won't win.

Listen, I may be a little out of practice but I know my stuff. And he's signalling like nobody's business. Gods, he tastes so good, little burning flecks of precum on my tongue and the way he shivers when my tongue laps it up.

My head moves on without breaking eye contact. His cock slips in easy and deep and my tongue can't get on to those ridges fast enough. I'm sucking him like a lollipop. Every inch is to be explored, tasted, caressed. Rumbling sounds fall over me from above and only entice me to go down deeper. I want all of him inside of me and if this is how it happens, I will swallow.

His hands tangle in my hair. Gotta hand it to a guy who can find purchase in a pix cut. Not that it'll help him any. I help myself liberally to all of his cock abolishing my gagging reflex on the spot. Ain't nobody got no time for that.

I suck him in as deep as I can and then some because I am greedy. I want all of him and that's what I'll have and if it kills me. I don't care. I suck him in hard, deep and hungry. My teeth hitch on the ridges. My hands tighten on his balls and I wanna wring him dry, crush him like a lemon in the squeezer. Mine now. All mine.

Raphael's hands close on over my scalp. I am rabid. Clawed fingers press in tightly. I feel the nails pierce my skin as I go all in. The pain is familiar and exquisite. Unlike the fire erupting into my mouth, running down my throat like whiskey and chili.

I gulp it down as if I hadn't just feasted on the finest Mediterranean food. Gotta keep going. The cock is easier to take now that it softens and damned if I won't gurgle it down to the hilt. I'm almost offended when he pulls me up and definitely too short when he bends to kiss me.

Doesn't deter Raphael the least. He's big (oh yeah) and strong and just stands me on the bed so we can smooch good. He's sucking his taste from my mouth as if I stole it. Well, I'll gladly give him all I got. Also, I'm having an advantage because my hands run over hot skin (oh those swirling ridges!) and I'm still dressed.

His fingers bunch the fabric of my shirt and his tail wraps around my right ankle. Oh that's driving me wild. I'd be moaning all over the place if my mouth wasn't busy exploring every inch of devil it can reach. Little tugs of the tail in reaction to what goes on further up. Enough to turn my knees into pudding.

Raphael pushes me back a little, running a hand down the button tab. A knowing smirk plays over his lips. I wanna kiss that away. I wanna drink it up until it fills my whole existence. And he knows. Raphael tilts his head a little. "Open up."

Oh there is good reason that line isn't in the game spoken by him. I'd open up my legs wide no questions asked. Unfortunately, he's still looking at my shirt. Reluctantly I take my hands back to myself. If that's what he wants, he can have it. Gods, this guy can have everything. (Doesn't he know it.)

I hold his gaze and open the first button. Very slowly. I can see the fire flare up in his eyes. I can also feel his adventurous little tail move up my leg. The next button and another upwards slide wraps the tail around my knee. Raphael's grin a threat and a treat. Sweet hells. I can't even slow down any further because I started at least possible speed.

My fingers play with the next button and the tip of his tail dances against the inside of my thigh. Swallowing hard, I open the button and let the caress of skin snaking around my thigh wash over me. Two buttons left to go.

The second to last button brings him up against my cunt. The tail has no problems slipping between my folds; I'm wet as a waterfall.

I open the last button and nothing happens. I cock my head in a question and Raphael motions to brush the shirt of my shoulders. With a dry mouth I do and as soon as the fabric crests my shoulders, he moves in. His tail is hot, smooth and prehensile. I drop the worst moan ever as my knees give in, shirt hanging forgotten at half-mast.

Raphael catches me. Shirt forgotten he buries his face against mine again, tongue digging deep as his tail. My hands are on his chest again, gripping and grappling. Raphael pulls me close. His left bunches my shirt behind my back, trapping my hands as he bears down for another kiss. I'm flush against him, and my mans is working up an erection again already.

My cunt rises like a neon invitation. I arch perfectly against his chest, diabolical alchemy, I'm sure. Can't think further with my cunt full of tail and moth full of tongue – both slithering and slipping and demanding.

Clawed hands move down my sides, leaving red trails of fire. His fingers close in on my pussy and while I am all for that, he is in his cambion form. Pain is fine in moderation but there is some things I am not ready for yet.

"Before you can even think of putting any of those in down there, we gotta file of the claws," I gasp. In retaliation, I get his index finger into my mouth I suck down hard and accept the middle finger that follows.

His left still presses me against him, tail working up my cunt and fingers down my throat I hang on by that thread. I'm overflowing. I still need more. And he's generous. Boy is he giving. I may not be stuffed, but I am not empty either. My walls clench taking what they can and my mouth is muffled by fingers and want as he bends me backwards.

I fall freely and unworried. Hit the mattress soft enough. Barely registers through my horny haze as I rut at him like the last freak alive. He tastes so good. I wanna suck his mouth dry as well. Doing my best. Getting paid in hungry growls. Oh we feasting tonight.

Then he goes down. Not even slow. Skips all the in-between steps (it's fine, nothing to see there) to breathe hot air over my clit. And before I finished gasping out a hopeful moan, his tongue descended and I am deceased.

Doesn't matter if he'll come two thrusts in. I'm fucked already, writhing like a snake on silk sheets, getting nowhere but deeper into desire. Devil down there hums, send that reverberation into my bones through my sogging wet pussy. I'm so far gone, I can't even wish for him to finish me off.

Raphael's mouth works my clit as if I won't ever need it again, hungry tongue making short work of my arousal. I clench around the tip of his tail, riding on waves of ecstasy. Best night of my life.