#id appreciate feedback on this! its new for me

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That's until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: Tomorrow is beach day for me.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The city streets seem to slant around you, looming outside the car windows, blurring at the edges. Your displacement adds to the effect, making your dizzy, leaving your hands raw as you wring them compulsively. You shrink back into your seat, shying away from the world that seems so scary to you. 

Aunt Bev is completely unbothered. She sings along to her favourite 80s bop as she keeps speed with the rest of traffic. She's always in a sunny mood but that day, she beams even brighter. When you asked why, she was almost stunned by the question; 'well, sweetheart, it's your birthday!' 

You forgot. Or didn't care. You never really celebrate. Your last birthday you can barely discern from all the other grim days. You try not to think of that life you had before Aunt Bev showed up to drag you into the light. You suppose it's probably been just under a year since. 

As if sensing your grey thought, she reaches to turn the volume down. She resumes her firm grip on the wheel and peeks over quickly. She smiles as she stops at the changing light. 

"You get a free scoop. You got your ID?" She says. 

You nod. That's one of the things that's new to you. Before you never even had a library card. Before, it was like you never even existed. As far as the world was concerned, you didn't.  

You look down at the purse in your lap. Your cousin Lena gave it to you. She said she never used it and it suited you better. There was a lot she handed over, though without any real concern. Her and your other cousin, Mason, have so much, they hardly know the difference. 

You stare at the embroidered petals on the black velvet. Lena's wrong. It's too nice for you. 

You tear your hands apart and lift the flap. You slide out the small wallet within. Another inherited piece. You slip out the ID card and stare at the photo. It doesn't really look like you but you've never really been able to recognise yourself. Your features always struck you as unfamiliar. 

You remember when you went to fill out the paperwork. Standing in front of that lens, staring into its black eye, and the sudden flash. You tuck the card away and shove the wallet back in the depths of the purse. 

"Lena's making you a cake," Bev says, "she always loves an excuse to make a mess of my kitchen." 

You try to laugh, it's more a crackle. That's the thing about Aunt Bev, everything is so careless to her, so easy. It all feels so strange to you. You don't fit but no one else seems to notice. 

"Mason should be there but heavens knows he's always late. That's not my doing, by the way, your uncle's always been horrible about time," she scoffs. 

You hum to acknowledge you're listening. The mention of your cousin and uncle make you uneasy. It isn't that they're bad. No, they're so nice, like Lena and Bev, but they're men. You try not to hold that against them but you've never been very comfortable around them. Not that you spent much time around male counterparts. 

"Twenty-five," she preens, "exciting." 

You clear your dry throat, "yep." 

You tuck your chin down and fidget with the strap of the purse. Twenty-five. Halfway through your first decade of adulthood and you still feel like a child. It's nothing to celebrate but Aunt Bev sees everyday as a reason. 

She puts on her signal and waits in the line of cars. You squint through her side and see the bustling of vehicles and people in a large lot. All this for ice cream. You told her you aren't particularly hungry even but she insisted. 

She turns and rolls into the lot, finding a spot amid the tight lines. She sighs and pulls the visor down to check her dyed waves in the mirror. She's always so put together. She tried to help you but you don't like the feel of mascara and you had an allergic reaction to the lip gloss. She didn't try again. 

"Alright, ice cream!" She snaps the visor up, "do you know which flavour you want?" 

You unbuckle your seat belt and shrug, "I don't know what they have." 

"Fair," she tilts her head as she opens her door, "I'm feeling a good old vanilla cone." 

You get out and shut the door. You hook the purse on your shoulder and meet her by the hood. You walk in step with her, peering around at the other people streaming towards the other side of the lot. There’s a large archway leading to a large plot of booths and stands. It’s a market of some sort, the kind you’ve only seen on television. 

“I thought we were getting ice cream,” you say as you grip your purse. 

“They have ice cream. I have another surprise. For your birthday,” she insists, “I wanted to buy you a gift.” 

“Oh? I don’t need one.” 

“I want to,” she says, “me and Lena used to come here all the time. You’ll like it.” 

You don’t argue. You have no right to. She’s doing you a favour. Another one.  

It’s crowded but everyone seems happy. You’re not used to all the noise or clamour. A woman pushes a stroller ahead of you as her husband chases a lively toddler past her. You press your chapped lips together and hold in your unease. 

You’re not the best in these sort of situations. Too many people, too much going on. Just going down to City Hall to get your ID was a lot. The hospital too. Those stiff, cramped plastic chairs and people filling even the space between them. 

You keep your shoulders curled in as you walk with Bev. You end up behind her, following her lead, stopping where she stops, looking at whatever she looks at. She points out a crystal sunflower necklace and you smile and nod. When you see the price, you frown. 

“Maybe something else. I don’t wear jewelry,” you say. You don’t wear it because you never had it. 

“It would be so pretty,” she remarks. 

“No, really, it’s... nice, but not for me.” 

You sidle on. There’s a table of soaps so pungent they make your head cloudy, and candles that look like whipped desserts. You cross to another booth and Bev buys some local honey and apple butter. She likes the honey in her tea in the evening. She always makes you a cup too. 

She shows you the wildflower honey giddily and points you onward. You stick close, following her direction as it keeps your head from spinning. You go to crocheter’s stand with stuffed animals meant for the children shouting and running around more than you. That whale might be cute but you’re not a child anymore, are you? 

You carry on. Bev shows you several other things. A little compact mirror with mother of pearl on the case and a hand-painted wooden chest you could put on your dresser. The dresser she bought in the room she gave you in the house she pays for. 

“You really don’t need to buy my anything. The ice creams good enough,” you say as your doubt bubbles over but it’s too loud for her to hear you. And she’s too distracted. 

Aunt Bev stands on her toes, though she’s already a tall figure, and waves at someone. She grabs your wrist and you wince as she pulls you through the swaths of people. You want to tear away as her grip makes you itch. You don’t like being touched. You’re not used to it. 

She pulls you to another row of stalls and stops before a medley of plants. There's a little chalkboard sign in the corner that reads ‘Cole’s Corner’. Pots line the top of the table, cacti and spider plants and succulents. Their green and lovely and lush. 

Bev lets go and you stare down at them. They’re familiar. They’re pretty. You could smile if your ears weren’t burning from the bustling people around. 

You’ve always known soil, always known the smell of pollen and the tough roots of unwanted weeds. When you weren’t trapped in your room, you were stranded in the garden, searching for bright petals or nursing wilting stems. Out in the dirt, you didn’t have to worry about anything. 

Often Aunt Bev found you in the plot she allotted you among her rose bushes and tulips. The space you made your own with the gnome you painted yourself. That was one of her little crafts she liked to do. She always had an idea for something or the other; waxed-linen to use as reusable bowl covers or tie-dye tee shirts. 

You stare down at a pot of aloe vera. The pot is clay; the base is brown and the top is painted white. You admire the jutting rigid leaves as the chaos around you settles into the background. You lean in closer at the burst of colour behind it, a bunch of pleasant pink begonias. 

“Cole,” your aunt chirps, “busy today.” 

“Sure is,” the man behind the table answers and your eyes flick up as you nearly jump.  

You hadn’t seen him. You were too distracted by the fauna. You don’t know how you didn’t. He’s tall and his blue eyes twinkle as they meet yours. You quickly shy away as the sight of his soft hay brown hair lingers in your mind. 

“This your sister?” He asks. 

“Oh, Cole, don’t be silly. You can flatter me all you like. You’re still a horrible salesman.” 

“Usually works,” he chuckles, “daughter?” 

“You’ve met Lena,” she chides then introduces you by name, “this is my niece. Hon, this is Cole. He grows these all himself.” 

“Ah, the niece,” he snaps his fingers. “I remember.” 

As he turns away you continue to peruse. Your cheeks are burning. You’re suddenly not as content to browse the plants. Not as you feel the sting of that man’s gaze nipping at you. It’s just the way he’d looked at you. Maybe just that he’d even saw you. 

Suddenly, a pot wrapped in burlap is set down in front of you. You examine the yellow petals and peek over at Aunt Bev. She grins and her gaze trails between you and the man. You gulp and turn back to once more consider the flowers. 

“Daylily,” you murmur. 

He leans in and lets out a scratchy noise, “that’s right.” 

You suck in your lower lip. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Your lashes flick up then down as you can’t figure what to do with yourself. 

“You like flowers? Your aunt says you spend all your time in the garden.” 

You shrug, then nod, and once more dart a look over at Aunt Bev. She said all that? To him? Why? 

“How about that one?” She comes closer as she reaches for her purse, “it’s her birthday. I’d like her to get something nice for her.” 

“Can’t go wrong with day lily. They keep bloom for a while but each blossom only lasts about a day,” he turns the pot slightly as he speaks, “symbolic of devotion and forgetting worries. They brighten the place right up.” 

“So?” Aunt Bev nudges you with her elbow. 

You dip your chin, “um, sure, okay. Thank you, Aunt Bev.” 

“Flowers are always a good gift. These ones won’t need much in the winter either. They’ll come right back,” he explains, “is that all?” 

“Yep, I think you’ve bled me dry,” Bev kids as she hands over her money, “I only have so much room left in the backyard.” 

“Ah, don’t got that problem on the farm. Sometimes, I don’t know what to do with all the land,” he counts out her change from a metal box. 

“Must be nice. I swear, living in the city can be so... suffocating,” Bev mopes as she tucks away the coins. “Go on, hon, you wanna carry your flowers?” 

You mutter your acquiescence and step forward to reach for the pot. Before you can, that man, Cole, slides it out of your grasp. “Wait, one minute.” He turns and digs around in a crate hidden beneath the perpendicular table, “it’s your birthday, isn’t it?” He pulls out a ribbon, the same colour as the daylily, “just put a proper bow on.” 

He ties it up in a drooping uneven bow. You peek up at his face as he gives it a helpless smile and shrugs, “not perfect but... happy birthday.” 

He pushes the pot towards you and you cautiously take it. His large hand brushes yours and you quickly bring the flowers against your stomach, recoiling a step back from the table. His fingers fall onto the table and he taps them. 

“Oh, wait,” he turns once more and digs around, this time in a bag on the top of the table, “Marvita brough these over from her booth.” He takes out a small box and lifts the lid to reveal an array of macarons in a variety of hues, “I can’t eat them all.” he shoves the box at you, “please.” 

You don’t move but Bev eagerly accepts one; a pink one. “Go on,” she urges, “live a little, birthday girl.” 

You scrunch your mouth up and slant it this way, then that. You take a cookie; a green one. As you hug the plant with one arm and retract the other, you remember your manners. A tingle runs through the back of your hand, a memory of those lessons, as the ‘thank you’ tumbles off your tongue. 

You look up and once more your eyes meet. You blanch and swiftly turn away. 

“No problem,” he says brightly, “hey, Bev,” he calls as she goes to shuffle away, “next week?” 

“Eh, I don’t know, my husband’s been on me about the spending,” she laughs, “we’ll see.” 

“Oh yeah, see you then,” he snorts, “you too, I hope.” 

“Uh, bye,” you wave with the cookie and hurry past your aunt. You know he’s talking to you but you can’t face him. He’s just being nice and you won’t be back. 

“I love those, they’re so pretty,” Aunt Bev reaches over to touch the petals, “such a nice man, isn’t he?” 

[masonmtxo]

Thank Your Missus... Again

Mason Mount x OC

Summary: Part 2 of Thank Your Missus

Words: 2.7k

Note: Any feedback is greatly appreciated as always ❤️

It had been around a month since the evening Woody had arrived at your house in a panic, looking for Mason to help him with an outfit and give him a pep talk for his date. Since then, as far you as you had been informed by your boyfriend, things were going swimmingly between the two.

“Did you ask him what her name is?” You asked your boyfriend one evening as he settled on the sofa beside you, not long having got back from a kick around with his mates at a local public football pitch.

“Oh shit I forgot again!” He groaned, flopping his head into your lap and grabbing your hand to place on the back of his head, silently requesting you played with his hair.

You rolled your eyes, giving his locks a gentle tug, “For fuck sake you had one job! I even text you to remind you.”

He hummed in response, too relaxed as you massaged into his scalp to carry on the conversation. Accepting defeat that you once again were left in the dark, you reached for the blanket on the back of the sofa and covering you both as you settled down for an evening of cuddling on the sofa after a day apart.

Despite the reports of the new relationship going well, the lack of details provided by Mason’s best friend was frustrating the hell out of you since you had found yourself weirdly invested after your involvement before their first date. And in typical male fashion, Mason was not being the most reliable source of information, not understanding why you found it odd he hadn’t interrogated his best friends about his new relationship.

“He’s seeing her again tonight I think,” you heard him mumble, only just catching the words as he was burrowed so close to your body, “left early to shower, said something about going out for dinner.”

“I dont get why you haven’t asked for any details, do you not wanna know more about this girl if she’s potentially dating your best friend?” You nudged him until he tilted his head away from you, muffled voice now clear.

“Na, not really,” he shrugged, “sure we will meet her some day. Probably just wants to keep it on the low until he knows its actually going somewhere.”

“That’s so odd to me,” you whined, “the girls got a play by play on the group chat after every date when we first started seeing each other. They even got a full run down after the first time we had sex.”

“What!?” Mason launched up from his position lounged against you, eyes wide with shock.

“All girls do that,” you giggled, reaching for him to pull him back into the cuddle but he resisted, not yet ready to let the topic go.

“What did you tell them?” His voice a slightly higher pitch than usual.

“Well I don’t remember exactly, it was years ago now,” you rolled your eyes as he continued to stare down at you.

“I was shit at sex then, please tell me they’ve had an updated review since,” he question, a pout now adorned his lips.

“Fucking hell Mase I didn’t give a presentation about your skills in the bedroom,” you groaned, throwing your head back against the sofa, “I would’ve just said it was good and that you have a nice dick, because it was, and you do.”

“Oh,” Mason paused, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “okay..”

He unceremoniously flopped back ontop of you, head dropping into the same place as before as your hands instinctively slipped under his jumper to stroke his back. He moaned, shifting himself impossibly closer until you heard his phone buzzing from the coffee table. You waited for him to move, carrying on your tender touches when he didn’t, ignoring whoever was on the other end of the message. Moments later it vibrated again, and again, and again.

Tired of the noise, and judging by Masons lack of movement, presuming he wasn’t going to bother checking his phone himself, you reached over to the coffee table to grab it, face ID immediately recognising yours and unlocking. Your stomach still doing a small backflip that he had that much trust in you, despite him always giving you complete access to his phone throughout your relationship.

“And?” He questioned, aware you had pulled up his incoming messages, seeing all 4 were from Nathan.

Can I stay at yours tonight?

Theres a party next door and my whole room is vibrating

Oi

Bro

“Nath said can he stay over tonight, his neighbour is having a party.”

“That alright with you?” He queried.

“Course,” you shrugged, used to Nathan being a regular guest at your house considering he used to live there with Mason before you moved in.

“No sex with my ‘nice dick’ for you tonight then,” he teased, fingers digging in to your sides to tickle you.

You squirmed, batting his hands away, “like thats ever stopped you.”

Mason shrugged in response, unable to argue the fact. You replied to Nathans message, letting him know he was more than welcome before dropping his phone back to the coffee table and resuming your previous position.

“Wanna get in bed with snacks and watch a film?” Mason asked after a period of silence, both of you just enjoying the others comforting presence.

“You get the snacks ready and I’ll go set up?” You asked, an excited smile taking over your face

“Deal.”

•••

20 minutes into the film you heard the front door open and close, Nathan letting himself in. Neither of you bothered to get up to say hello, curling closer together until you both dozed off, the film continuing to play in the background.

•••

The following morning you awoke first, eyes fluttering open to see Mason’s face inches from yours as he slept soundly with his head nestled into your pillow. You sat up after pressing a soft kiss against his forehead, detangling your limbs carefully in order to avoid waking him, leaning over to grab the tv remote a switch it off having sat on standby the whole night.

It didnt take long for Mason to stir, hands reaching across the bed to find you. Eyes still closed, he shuffled his body until he lay directly next to you, placing his head against you chest and hooking his leg over yours.

“Morning,” he grumbled, a kiss placed against your T-shirt covered sternum.

“Morning,” you smiled at his grumpiness, hand falling into his hair, an action that was so frequent in your relationship you hardly even noticed you were doing it.

Silence took over the room once again as you enjoyed that neither of you were having to rush out of bed, Mason not having to leave for training for another few hours, slow relaxed mornings your favourite way to spend time together. You flicked through your instagram, clicking onto the recent story uploads of you friends, doubling back when you realised Nathan had posted a picture of his hand gripping a girls over a candle lit dinner table last night. Your eyes darted over the photo looking for a tag, sighing in annoyance when there wasn’t one.

“Look what Nathan posted last night,” you tugged Masons hair gently to gain his attention. He shifted into a sitting position beside you, taking your phone from your hand to look.

He shrugged, disinterested in your discovery but leaned away from you when you reached to take your photo back. He flicked the camera open, a cheeky grin on his face as he snapped a photo of himself intending to post on your close friend story before pausing, looking closer at the screen.

“My skin looks shit at the moment,” he moaned, noticing a few small red bumps across his forehead and cheeks, swiftly deleting the photo in a moment of insecurity.

You reached for his chin, tilting his head towards you to look, “it’s not that bad, you have a few tiny spots.”

Ignoring you comment, he reached for his own phone to open up the camera app and continue scrutinising his face.

“We can do a face mask if you want?” You suggested gently, noticing the way he seemed to shrink in on himself.

Mason turned back to look at you, “can we do the one that smells like strawberry?”

“Course we can,” you pecked his lips, hopping out of bed and making your way to the bedroom door in just a pair of knickers and one of Mason’s t-shirts, “it’s in the main bathroom I think, I’ll be back in a second.”

You hummed to yourself at you walked across the landing and opening the bathroom door, not spotting the glow of the light coming from underneath, indicating it was already occupied.

As you entered, a head of long, messy brunette hair was the first thing you spotted of the girl rummaging through your bathroom cupboards, “Can I help you?” You blurted in shock.

“Oh my god!” She jumped, quickly spinning around to face you, hand grabbing against her chest, alarmed at your presence.

She was dressed similarly to you, wearing a black top that you instantly recognised as Nathan’s, legs bare.

“You must he Nathans missus,” you smirked, leaning casually against the doorway as you watched her curiously, “he hasnt even told us your name yet but brings you over for sleepovers apparently.”

“Oh, Im so sorry, I didn’t realise he hadn’t told you I’d be here,” she stumbled over her words, her expression even more panicked than when you had made her jump only moments before.

“Dont be silly,” you softened, your dig at Nathan being misinterpreted, “it’s basically Woody’s home too, you’re honestly welcome anytime.”

She smiled in response, nodding her head in thanks. Silence overtook the small room, both of you waiting for the other to speak, the girl looking more and more uncomfortable by the second as she realised she had just been caught by the girlfriend of her boyfriends best friend going through her bathroom cabinets while wearing just a t-shirt.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, “I’m Ella by the way.”

“So nice to finally meet you, and have a name at last…” you rolled your eyes, causing you both to giggle. “I’m Y/N.”

“It’s lovely to meet you y/n, to be honest I only knew of you as ‘Mason’s missus’ so it’s nice to put a name to the person for me too,” she smiled, “though not quite the circumstances I had hoped..” she cringed, head tilted towards the open cupboard to her left

“Was you looking for something?”

“A tampon. Or even a pad?” She blushed. “I’m so sorry but I came on overnight and have leaked all over your sheets in the guest room. Nathans still asleep so I’ve not managed to change them and I’m sort of panicking.” Her words were rushed, eyes widening as if she wasn’t planning on sharing the entire story with a complete stranger.

“Ahhh that’s much better than the alternative of you burglarising the place,” you giggled, attempting to ease the girls embarrassment, sympathising with her instantly.

“I didn’t know what to do. I’m so embarrassed,” she visually cringed, hands covering her face, though she seemed relieved you weren’t annoyed at her mishap.

“Don’t be silly, we’ve all been there,” you had been in a similar situation when you first started dating Mason, coming on unexpectedly while spending the weekend at his. Though you fortunately hadn’t leaked on his furniture, you did spend 20 minutes hidden in the bathroom before you found the courage to call for Mason and request he popped to the shops to get you some supplies. “Lets get you sorted, I’ve got tampons and pads in my ensuite. I’ll just get Mason to bin the sheets on his way out when he leaves for training in a bit.”

“Will Mason not be annoyed? I don’t want to make another bad impression,” She groaned, following you as you stepped out the bathroom after you had reached behind her to grab the wipes and face mask you had gone looking for in the first place, walking across the landing to the agar door of your bedroom,“I can take them to be cleaned or something?”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s well trained with periods, it’s not the first time we’ve had to throw bloody sheets out, has happened to me a few times since we moved in together,” you laughed.

You pushed the bedroom door open, revealing Mason, lying on top of the sheets playing on his phone, dressed in only his black Calvin’s. He glanced up as he heard you, quickly grabbing the blanket beside him to pull over his crotch as he spotted you had company.

“Excuse my boyfriend’s indecency,” you rolled your eyes comically, throwing the wipes and face mask onto the bed, “Ella, this is Mason. Mason, this is Ella, Woody’s girl.”

“Oi, I wasnt expecting to have a guest in my bedroom first thing in the morning,” he teased, shuffling to sit at the end of the bed, his lower half still safely under the cover of your favourite blanket, reaching a hand out to shake Ella’s politely, “Nice to meet you, Im Mason.”

She smiled, letting him know it was so nice to finally meet him too. Following you into your bathroom, she watched as you pointed to a draw to the side of the toilet.

“There’s a few different sorts of pads and tampons in there, help yourself and take as many as you need,” you smiled, squeezing her arm softly in reassurance, silently letting her know that even though you’d just met, you girls would be sticking together.

Ella reached to squeeze your hand, thanking you before you slipped out the bathroom, closing the door behind you and leaving her to it.

“She seems nice,” you whisper, climbing back into bed with your boyfriend who had shuffled himself back under the sheets and thrown the edge of the duvet back for you. He instantly grabbed your hips, pulling you over his body, sliding you further forward to sit over his lower stomach when he felt your crotch initially come into contact with his.

“Yeah, lovely,” he muttered, sitting up until his chest met yours, leaning into you as he reached for the items you’d deposited at the end of the bed, “but why was she in our room?”

You paused, hesitant to reveal what had got the girl so embarrassed, “girl stuff,” you shrugged, removing a wipe from the packet he had retrieved and beginning to wipe over his skin.

He raised a questioning eyebrow leaving you to sigh, accepting he would never be judgmental or weirded out over something as normal as a period. “She came on over night, found her in the bathroom looking for something to use but the ensuite is the only place I keep mine so…” you trailed off, gesturing behind you to the door she was behind.

Moments later, the door creaked open, Ella gingerly stepping into the bedroom and walking quickly over to the main door, a handful of supplies in her hand. “Thank you so much, so sorry to disturb you both,” you noticed the way her cheeks were still tinted pink, clearly still entirely embarrassed by her first encounter with two of the closest people to her new partner. “And thank you for letting me stay!”

“Anytime, lovely to meet you finally!” You smiled, twisting on Mason’s lap to give her a quick wave.

“See you at breakfast!” Mason chimed in, Ella’s tight expression finally falling as a giggle fell from her lips as she closed the door behind her.

•••

Still straddling your boyfriend, you sat and chatted back and forth as you waited for the pink clay masks to dry, laughing at Mason every now and then as he pulled stupid faces, the mask cracking in unflattering patterns.

His phone buzzed for his bedside cabinet, Mason lazily reaching for it, your hands now occupied playing with the hair at the nape of his neck once again.

Unlocking his phone, he let out a sharp laugh, instantly showing you the screen:

Tell your missus I said thanks… again.

[duckieduccss]

NEW KAIJU OC?!?!

Well, yea technically. Basically i was interested in figuring out how id go with making my own kaiju. At first i wasnt sure where to go for designing one. So i chose to base it off another existing kaiju for inspiration. I kinda wanted to go for a dragon type kaiju (i like dragons) and the only thing i could think of was Ghidorah so i went with that (now that i think about it more, I could’ve maybe used Manda too prob but oh well, Ghidorah was still a good option). I added some different details to mine that make it unique to the og Ghidorah

My idea was that it could potentially be a relative to Ghidorah (being of the same species) but still far apart from one another to the point they arent all that aware of the other existing (theyre in for a shock when & if they do encounter each other lol). This version actually relies on cosmic energy derived from such sources like stars & generally anything that produce some form of energy within the vast universe (basing it off how Ghidorah themselves originally came from space & this variant being much more dependent on that factor). It stores that energy & relatively stays in a dormant stage for an extended period of time until when faced with the challenge to defend itself or fight off those it deems as a danger. Then it would release all that ginormous amount of space energy that manifests itself as a rapidly expanding glow of extremely bright light. Enough to cause extreme damage & bring down the opposition. It can gather energy by using special crystals it can grow (took that also as inspiration but from Space Godzilla) & become as some form of attracting & absorbing the energy. In a way, the energy is like its main source of food & energy to maintain itself (right after releasing a lot of it during its final attack of using that glow, it would be put in a highly vulnerable state if not recovered by regaining some energy back soon enough). For the most part, they mostly sleep (being lazy 24/7 just like me fr lmao) to keep all that energy but can be potentially dangerous if disturbed or provoked in some manner

(Here’s a better closer look at their faces. Realized the canvas’ too big to properly see each of them-)

The name of this kaiju you may be wondering???

It’s Ryudorah

(Yea i know im the most creative person out there. I combined another nickname i use for myself and just added the end part of Ghidorah’s name to make it clear it’s related to the other kaiju. I couldn’t think of anything else im sorry😭)

And also each head has its own individual name:

Do, Re & Mi

(Named after intervals in the musical scale (ex: Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do)

Did i mention this kaiju can also technically sing too :)

I did have a lot of fun with coming up with the concept for them (tho it honestly took longer in designing them due to a busy schedule ive been put in as of late & finding the time to finish it) but im glad to finally be able to share this with you all. Hopefully I can share more about them soon (i have a whole google doc’s worth of lore lmao) & probably draw them again (tho maybe a lot more simplified by then). Didn’t wanna overwhelm ppl with the huge amount of info so I’ll prob slowly reveal more over time.

[Another thing too is that i still am new to the fandom (tho with more knowledge from getting to learn more from the source material) & most of this i gathered from already know stuff i knew. Tho im also open to feedback & maybe some ideas to add onto my own kaiju. So id very much appreciate it if there’s any suggestions from you guys ^^⭐️]

(I’ll only be taking constructive criticism btw. Anything hateful will obv be ignored)

[wirelessmousegirl]

this is my first hypnosis script, im pretty new to the space from the hypnotist side so any feedback would be appreciated.

CW: Hypnotic Induction, obedience, loss of control, mind alteration, increased suceptability to mine and others commands, minor dronefication, and no formal wakener

Id like you to find a nice comfortable place you can get situated, maybe a bedroom or bathroom, somewhere you can sit or lay comfortable without being disturbed or distracted.

Before you get comfortable id like you to make the room as dark as you can, turn of the lights or maybe close the curtains, if you want to get really immersed, maybe turn your device to dark mode, or lower the brightness. it doesn't have to be perfect, but it should be just dark enough for you to notice.

After you get comfortable id like you to soak in the darkness for a moment, to feel it surrounding you, enveloping you, permeating the very air around you.

Its dark isn't it?

Very Dark...

...

...

We should turn on a light, shouldn't we...

Here, id like you to imagine a candle, specifically a small tealight candle that you might see in a wax melter, or a pop boat if you are familiar.

Imagine the small flame of the candle flickering,

back and forth

back and forth

The flame bowing and bending at the slightest breath

Imagine how the flame lights the room, its soft glow illuminating your surroundings and yet somehow creating darker, richer shadows...

...

Oh dear...

...

Im terribly sorry... But this candle is almost spent...

Soon its flame will sputter out and then we will be left in the dark again...

Oh dear in deed...

...

Still, not to worry, we can make a new candle, One that keep the darkness away

just

a little

longer...

But ill need your help to make this work,

I can make a new bright and tall candle that can make this room shine, and push all that darkness away...

But... In order to make this candle im going to need your essence

Your will power

Your control...

I promise it wont hurt, in fact many have told me that the experience is quite pleasant, even euphoric.

Though, if your not ready that's ok, you can always flick on a light, or open a window i wont mind.

...

But something tells me you are ready...

Maybe because you have read this far...

Or maybe its because your here at all...

You already gave me some of your control when you started reading this post...

For that i thank you, really, but if your truly ready then keep reading, this little candle is going to burn out at any moment...

Ready? Good...

Im going to count down from 10. The more you scroll, the more control you give me, you might find yourself falling into a sort of trance, and that's ok and normal, After each number you will have given me a little bit more of your control, a little bit more of your willpower, so its only natural that you would be a little bit more suggestible and focused.

By the time we reach 1, we should have a nice,

bright,

and beautiful candle.

Now, lets begin...

10

You might feel your body relax, a warm and heavy feeling starting at your toes and slowly working its way up your body. Some have said it feels as if your body were melting into wax.

9

As you feel the warmth spreading up trough your feet, past your ankles, up your calves, take note of how heavy and dense they feel now, how completely relaxed...

8

The warmth should now be spreading up your legs, past your knees, and up your thighs, slowing a bit at the groin, and making you feel heavy, warm, and relaxed...

7

The warmth should continue up your body, over your hips and stomach, making them melt into warmth and relaxation...

6

The warmth should now be climbing your torso,through your breast and up to your neck, but stopping just short, as if blocked...

At this point you are very deep in trance, but your conscious mind still holds a little bit of resistance, we will work on that in a moment, for now just focus on the warmth.

5

Stayed at the neck, the warmth now travels down your arms, past your biceps and cresting over your elbows...

Your mind is very powerful, dont forget that... Even now it resists, trying to keep this warmth away from your vulnerable subconscious... For this to work im going to need you to consciously allow this warmth, to allow me into your subconscious... That takes alot of trust...

4

The warmth should now be flowing down your arms, past your forearms, over your wrists, down you palms and slowly slowly slowly flowing through your fingers...

If you aren't ready or willing to let me into your subconscious that's fine, i don't mind, Please stop reading, sit for a while, comfortable in the warmth, and allow yourself to wake from trance, but if you are ready, and are willing to give me that control, then press on.

...

...

...

3

As you give up more control, more resistance, the warmth should creep its way up your neck over your chin and up your face, you might find your head drooping or drool starting to form as your head rests totally relaxed, this is normal and ok.

2

The warmth should have flowed all the way up your head, and into your hair, each strand heavy, warm and relaxed... Your whole body should be warm and heavy, completely and totally relaxed except for one last hold out,

Your mind...

I was being serious before, if your at all uncomfortable feel free to stop reading and slowly wake up, you've already given me so much willpower, so much control, and im not 100% that you will be the same after this if you let me into your subconscious... If you don't fully trust me, stop reading...

Im serious...

...

1

You are now completely and totally in trance...

So deep, and so focused on my words, that the outside world seems almost completely gone, hidden in complete darkness...

Your so deep in trance that i bet you didn't even notice the candle went out... Its been out since we got to 3...

Not to worry though, Im going to have you imagine a candle, its tall and beautiful, the most beautiful candle you have ever seen...

At the end of its wick is a bright and gorgeous flame, it burns tall and bright, brighter than any candle you have ever seen...

That's because the candle is fueled by you, your mind, your essence...

With each thought the flame grows higher... Each emotion makes it grow brighter... Pushing the darkness

Further

And further

Away...

I want to see how bright this wonderful candle can get, lets try putting some more of you into the candle...

Feel your worries go into the candle... See how the flame burns bright...

Now feel all your stress and pain go into the candle... Watch the flame dance higher and higher...

Next, lets put your anger, and sadness and fear into this candle... Take pride in how high the flame burns, its almost like a sparkler!

Now lets put your inhibitions, and shame into the candle, feel your mind get lighter... And the flame grow so so bright... Its so big now, more like a bonfire than a candle!

Im running out of big things to put into this candle... Please, if you could... Put any other thoughts that may still be lingering in your head into the candle... Watch its flame grow and dance... The light bouncing across the walls...

I think that's enough... Look how bright the flame burns now, how bright the room is... A flame like this should make you feel happy, warm, and content...

Its so bright...

So warm...

So beautiful...

Oh dear...

Now i dont mean to alarm you but we might have gotten a bit carried away...

Even now the candle is starting to dim...

The flame is now down from a raging bonfire back to a small flame...

And now its down even smaller... Sputtering and dimming, the darkness once again enveloping you...

Now its just an ember, slowly smoking...

And its gone...

...

Im sorry... All that essence, all that control all that willpower burned away...

Now we are left in a blanket of darkness...

Your mind so, so suggestible, so, so vulnerable...

In this state... You would do anything someone asked of you,

totally obedient

Totally mindless

Your contented little head filled with nothing but smokey darkness...

so vulnerable... And susceptible to suggestions, especially from those you trust...

Some people like feeling this way...

Being completely obedient...

Completely vulnerable...

Maybe you have been like this before...

Maybe you've been here before, reading this script, enveloped in the dark

Completely and totally blank...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

As nice as it is, I cant let you leave here like this...

It would be irresponsible of me,

and after all that trust you gave me I have a responsibility to make sure your mind is safe and sound.

So im going to give you this...

I know its hard, being as mindless as you are now but i need you to imagine another candle.

This one is a plastic electric candle, on the top is a small plastic bulb, that mimics its flame, and on the bottom is a small switch, protected by a rubber cover...

This candle can help to illuminate your mind, to help regain some of the control and brainpower that was burned away, not all of it, but more than enough to function day to day...

You might find that its not quite the same as your old self...

You might find it hard to linger on older emotions and grudges...

And it might be a little bit harder access some more negative emotions, like sadness, or shame... This is natural, as those are powerful emotions tend to burn the fastest...

Still... This new candle is not all bad,

First of all it has a on/off switch, so you can turn it off whenever you like and return to this blissful state of mindlessness and obedience whenever you want... Keep in mind that only you can move the rubber cover protecting the switch, no one else...

The candle also has a a few different modes, like timers that can automatically turn the candle off after a certain amount of time, or when you feel particularly calm or relaxed.

It even has a special voice command feature, that lets you or anyone you trust remotely turn the candle on or off just by saying a special word or phrase, it can be any phrase... But defaults to lamp on, and lamp off...

Don't worry about the candle running out of energy, its powered by some of the leftover essence you gave me... You really gave me quite a lot of it...

I hope you come to like your new candle, and the new you...

But if you ever feel like you want to go back, all you need to doo is imagine the big bright candle again, but in reverse, growing from a small ember to a great bonfire... Its not an easy task, but with enough practice and a mind as strong and resilient as yours im sure you can do it.

I hope you have enjoyed our session, and i wish you the best.

-Quinn

[moonsaver]

Hi ! This may be late but i saw your posts asking for opinions on your writing. First, I think its best when a writer concentrates on writing for the characters they love the most at the moment (Sunday in this case). When writers write for a lot of characters, I tend to see that the content for the characters they dont like becomes repetitive and it doesnt have as much passion as a piece made for a character they love. Readers can tell when the writer doesnt really care for a character and personally Id rather find another writer to read content on that character. Im just saying you dont need to force yourself to write for more characters you dont know much about /arent interested in.

Second, I love your writing ! I like that you dont tend to stray from the main point with unnecessary dialogue and prose. Also I like that they are scenarios that leave a lot to the imagination (I always end up daydreaming of what could happen next, or what happened before, which is fun for me). In summary, i feel like your writing is easy to digest and takes a new angle on the character (no unnecessary violence that is out of character).

I cant criticise anything since im not knowledgeable on writing and grammar so i can only give my opinion on what i do like as a reader. Hopefully i didnt say anything hurtful ):

Hello, anon!

Let me first say you didn't say anything hurtful, haha. You were very kind and honest with your answer I believe, and even if you did say so, i wouldn't really mind, since the opinion poll was kind of open ended and i did mention taking criticism. Thank you for the feedback! I really appreciate you taking the time to write this entire paragraph out and submitting it, and being very polite with it aswell. Please don't hesitate to add in some criticism, even if you don't have experience with writing yourself. It's just something id like to know from your stance as a reader. Im completely open to any and all feedback regardless of your experience, so don't feel obligated to hold back. Thank you once again for the feedback!

[aurumacadicus]

A bit ago you asked for podcast app recommendations. Do you have any recommendations for podcasts to listen to?

These are all the ones I listen to, I'll add a little summary for each one if that's alright.

Stuff You Missed in History Class: This podcast has been going for over a decade, starting in 2008. The format has changed since its inception and honestly, you don't need to go through the entire playlist (unless you want to!). Each episode is about a certain event, figure, or theme from history with show notes that cite their sources, and the hosts are very upfront about where and how they got their information. Some of these subjects are two-parters, but that's the exception and not the rule mostly. I enjoy learning about new things from history or, if I know the bare basics of them, I enjoy learning more in depth information. My suggestion is to just scroll through and see what topic interests you.

Criminalia: This is another history podcast, but each season focuses on a certain type of crime, with each episode focusing on someone in that theme. At the end of each episode, the hosts also make up a cocktail and mocktail inspired by the subject that day. (The first two seasons don't have mocktails because they only realized how popular a non-alcoholic version would be after season three where they made mocktails to go with the "imposter" theme and they got really good feedback about it.) Some of the seasons are hit or miss for me, but even if I don't necessarily like the theme, the episode is still good to listen to from a learning standpoint.

DNA: ID: One of my true crime podcasts. I like this one because it focuses more on how DNA testing has solved cold cases using genetic genealogy. I also appreciate that the host doesn't use full names to protect the privacy of a lot of people in the story. She uses full names for victims and perpetrators, and some family, but people who turned out not to be involved in the case are given initials. My only beef is that she does so much research on the cases, but she doesn't extend that to learning how to pronounce some non-English names. However, otherwise, she does treat each case with a lot of gravity and respect, so. Idk. She's recently started interspersing solved cases with cases seeking more information on recently identified Does so that's pretty cool.

Dear Hank & John: It's a comedy podcast about death, where two brothers give you dubious advice and bring you all the news about both Mars and AFC Wimbledon. They're currently on a "we'll update if Hank feels like it" schedule because Hank is currently going through chemotherapy but they have 372 episodes to tide you over in the meantime. I enjoy it a lot because I enjoy the Green brothers' sense of humor, and on the occasions that one of the brothers is away for something, their guest host is always interesting.

Good Assassins: Part historical, part true crime. I've only just started this one so I'm gonna copy and paste the summary because I don't think otherwise I would do it justice: A spy story. A detective case. The mission was simple: to arrange the death of one man. The goal was to send a message to all Nazi fugitives around the world: "we can find you and we can kill you." This is the true story of an undercover mission to hunt down a savage Nazi murderer who helped Hitler’s forces kill 30,000 men, women, and children. The survivors gave him a name after the Holocaust: The Butcher of Latvia. The spies would travel halfway around the world to carry out the sentence. The mission wasn’t for one life. It was for 6 million.

Welcome to Night Vale: This was the first queer media I consumed since I watched Tara die in BtVS. I was tired of kill your gays so I simply didn't consume any queer content. This show simultaneously healed me and hollowed me out for all the other shows that could have been this good. I like each story line, I like the additional novels, and I like the weather. This is my comfort show. I start it from the beginning every time I catch up to the recent updates.

Good Morning Night Vale: The official recap show of WtNV. It's hosted by Meg Bashwiner (she voices Deb, a sentient patch of haze), Symphony Sanders (she voices Tamika Flynn, the former teenage militia leader, current City Counsel member), and Hal Lublin (he voices Steve Carlsberg, Cecil's brother-in-law). I feel like I'm hanging out with friends talking about Night Vale when I listen to it. :) I think if you like recap shows, it's a good one.

The Murder Chronicles: Ngl I started this in season one where it was called The Shadow Girls, which I started because it was advertised as a deep dive into the Green River Killer's victims instead of just being about him. I was interested because the host was in the same age range as GRK's victims and she talks extensively about how scary it was for girls her age at the time. She also goes into how the police failed the victims and why, and also how it affected her. It also has a push for one of the victims to get the reward she was promised for turning Ridgway in. It felt like a cause. The second season is more about other true crimes which is... fine. Doesn't have the same heart that the first season did, but does include interviews with the detectives who worked on the cases, though, which I find interesting. Idk it's not really doing much for me anymore so I might drop it.

Scene of the Crime: Delphi: This is a podcast that (ostensibly) focuses on one case per season, but it's literally just one season and then a ton of advertisements from other podcasts from their company. That being said, they went forward with the families' permission, including numbers for people to leave tips to the police. Since they have the permission of the family (and interviews with some family members, even) it's one of the few that I'm comfortable with. That being said, I'm only subscribed to it still in case there's another update in the case. They don't seem to have published any episodes in a while.

These are the ones I listen to on Amazon Music, which are all true crime:

Cold: It's a narrative podcast focused on missing persons cases. It's got three seasons-- Season one is about Susan Powell, season two is about Joyce Yost, and season three is about Sheree Warren. They're well-researched and use recordings from the victims/perpetrators which is very interesting. The host seems to have permission from the families (at least the first season seems so) but even if he didn't, he doesn't make emotionally charged statements. He states the facts. I'd even go so far as to say the most emotion he ever shows is when he talks about why Susan Powell's case means so much to him.

Suspect: It's an investigative series about mislaid justice and the kinds of weighty decisions that detectives, lawyers, and jurors make every day - decisions that, once made, are almost impossible to reverse. Both of these seasons are incredibly interesting, including interviews with people involved in the cases. There hasn't been a new episode since February, but it's still a good show to go back to, I think.

Killer Psyche Daily: This podcast is hosted by former FBI profiler Candice DeLong, who I'd actually heard of (worked on the Unabomber case). It's a short, daily podcast (tenish minutes per podcast) where she draws on her years of experience to break down current criminal cases for laymen to understand, look back on historic crimes, and share insight on how the mind of a killer works. On one hand, it definitely errs on the side of police. However, she was also law enforcement, so it makes sense and doesn't really annoy me. On the other hand, she also has a lot of insight on the psychology of criminals, and she has guests on regularly who also have a lot of information to add to current cases who don't come across as pro-police.

There are a handful of others that I've listened to on and off but obviously they haven't really stuck with me.

[dindadjarin]

A Chance Encounter – 3

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: none

an: ok it’s here! this encounter isn’t as long as the ones before but you’ll see why. sorry for taking so long, i haven’t been feeling well and my stress wouldn’t let me concentrate but today was better and i had the time to finish this. I hope you like it! reblogs and feedback and very appreciated! 💖

masterlist – part two

✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶

Insistent beeping comes from your utility belt, where your holo-comm notifies you of an incoming transmission. You frown, pausing just outside the threshold of your Harold’s shop in Lothal. All employees and Harold himself were summoned by the rebellion and asked to go to the star-port and grab a transport. With the news of the rebellion’s victory in Scariff but also of its consequences, none of you hesitated to pack your things. Your heart feels heavy, just as every step you take. Do we deserve it? You keep wondering. Do we deserve their sacrifice? You really hope you do.

“Give me a few minutes, I gotta check who this is.” You tell the other 3 mechanics who started to head towards the port, and though they seem reluctant, they nod. You don’t blame them, everyone in the streets keep whispering, and the fear that was already there seemed to triple overnight.

Your duck back into your office, dropping your bag by your desk and pulling out the holo-comm from your belt. A second later, you plug it to another device Harold had acquired to prevent transmissions to be traced and feel your mouth drop at the ID code on display. The same heart that felt like it couldn’t feel anything more after today’s news starts to beat faster. It’s for emergencies, he’d said and now you worry he got himself into a mess he can’t get out of. You answer the call hiding behind your desk so no one sees who you’re talking to should they walk in.

It is only a moment later, but if feels like hours to you before the sight of him, seemingly uninjured appears in front of you. It makes you breathless and you shake your head, pushing all those made-up scenarios of him injured out of your head.

The Mandalorian lets out a long and relieved sigh; he sounds tense when he speaks after. “Where are you?”

“In my office, I’m going off-world in a few minutes.” You explain, keeping your voice low to avoid eavesdropping.

“I’m coming to get you.”

“What the hell? No!” Your eyes widen at his sudden words as fear washes over you like a cold wave. “That’s too risky for you, especially now.”

The Mandalorian sighs and leans back on the pilot’s chair of the Razor Crest. He hasn’t changed, though you suppose you won’t be able to tell without seeing his face. But he’s still sighing, he’s still exasperated with you, still… himself. “I heard…”

“Scariff?” You ask, voice small until he nods, and you clear your throat. “That’s why I have to go, many repairs to be made.”

Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your throat tightens, and your lips start to tremble. His holo-projection blurs as your eyes glaze over with tears; tears you can’t seem to control now. It feels like the all the sadness you’ve tried to push through suddenly solidifies around you, leaving you trapped in an unbearable ache you can’t escape from. Sadness comes at you from all angles, paralyzing you on the spot for you to acknowledge it.

“I thought, you were with them.” Mando confesses, his voice going quiet like yours. It brings you out of your own thoughts for a moment until your mind catches up to what he said, and it causes a new wave of pain to go over you and leave you aching.

“No, I– I wasn’t” You mumble, tears finally breaking free and cascading your cheeks; a sob soon follows. 

Covering your face with your hands, you begin to cry –shoulders hunched as the weight of your emotions settle on them. Three years without seeing him, and this is how your meeting goes. No joking around, no friendly smiles, only you, crying your eyes out.

Mando calls your name, softly and with a worried edge to his words. “What happened?” He asks.

“Cassian –my friend from Ferrix– and some pilot friends, they– they’re gone.” Your bottom lips trembles as you try to hold back your tears and meet Mando’s eyes. You have to press your lips together and swallow hard to keep yourself from sobbing again. “They died in Scariff.”

A new stream of tears follows, as the memories of receiving the transmission with the news come to mind. “I’m just a mechanic, Mando. I go in when they need help fixing a ship. But my friends, they… sacrificed their life to give us a chance.”

“cyari’ka.”

“And I miss you.” You blur out, wiping at your eyes uselessly. You’re telling him everything already, so you might as well tell him this too. “So much.”

You don’t know what the word he called you means, and you can’t bring yourself to ask him. All you think about right now is him. Him being here with you, especially right now when you feel so… alone. Would he hug you and shield you from the world if you asked?

He nods once and looks away. “Me too.” His voice it quiet but coated in an unconcealed vulnerability that makes you squeeze your eyes shut.

Why did you let your walls down, weakened, for these feelings to barge in and make themselves at home? You wouldn’t be in pain at his memory if you hadn’t. But that’s not fair of you to say, because there’s joy in the memory too; a shining light when everything feels hopeless. The thought of seeing him again gave you something to look forward to when the fight is over, it was the hope you needed. It’s easy to understand what he’s feeling, the way he was tense when you answered the call. He was panicked, worried. The same panic you felt only moments ago, and the hopelessness you feel when you can’t comfort those who’re hurting.

“But I’m here.” He says firmly, his helmet tilting up just slightly. You imagine him pushing his chin out to show certitude and support. It makes a small smile break out of your face.

“I’m here too.” You nod, taking a deep breath and looking back at him; your tears are drying on your cheeks, and though you’re still deeply sad about Scariff, it feels like a load has been lifted from your heart. “You scared me when you called, by the way. I thought it was an emergency.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet tilts to the side, “It was.”

You look away to the side, surprised at the meaning of his words and at a loss for your own. How is it, that this seemingly stoic man can light someone up from withing, lifting their spirits in such a way that you crack another smile. Just for him.

You’re about to speak again when Roy, one of the mechanics outside, calls out your name. “Come on, we have to go!”

Mando sighs at the same time as you. “Go grab that transport, cyari’ka, and… be careful.”

“I will.” You tell him and stand up, bringing the holo-comm with you; you try to sound as reassuring as you can. “Just, please do the same.”

The Mandalorian nods and you hesitate for a second, needing to look at him one last time. Who knows when you’ll see him again, but there are people waiting for you and you need to go. You nod, just like he did and move to turn off the call.

“Wait,” He says before you can disconnect the transmission. “I care… and I’ll be waiting.”

His words are like a punch to the stomach and bring you back to the conversation you had with him during his last visit. I guess I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have someone who cares waiting for you, it hasn’t crossed my mind in a long time.

You press your lips together and nod; your brain short-circuiting from all the emotions flooding your system.

“Okay.” It’s a whisper, and it means I’ll be careful but you’re sure he knows. “I know you’ll find me.”

He nods one last time and you disconnect the call.

✫✶✫✶✫✶✫✶

part 4

[sorikkung]

what goes on in neverland. ⇝ ch. 4: brooding, beefing, and a not-quite-bluff

word count: 7.6k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (its literally too convoluted for me to try type them out here anymore just see the masterlist for full pairings LOL)

genre: e2l, f2l, smut, fluff and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: instantly-regretted slut shaming (including sti shaming?), brief physical violence, public/risky sexual activity, lowkey under-negotiated kink but nothing extreme, power struggle between switches, brief spitplay

a/n: half a year to update then two within a month n then almost half a year again uh. sorry? HDFKS id probably write more often if i knew more people were reading like fellas if you're reading pls lmk!! what are you enjoying what are you not, are you siding with any characters in this conflict? are you curious about any characters or anything? what do you think about everything so far? a reblog goes a long way, even longer if these kinds of things or any sort of feedback are included in the tags/additions/comments like that's the shit that keeps me going 😩

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

prev | masterlist | next

You just know Stray Kids's new hit song is about you.

It’s not like you keep up with their music out of genuine interest, at least, that’s what you like to tell yourself, but merely to closely track the movements of your rival so you can strike accordingly. You can’t use that same excuse as to why you can’t stop fucking listening to it, but you’re not beyond separating the art from the artist, even if you just know the artist involved you in this directly.

The song is a fucking banger, unfortunately, and the lyrics tease and provoke nameless haters that jab at their skill and specifically their dancing, so the target is very obvious – but it’s a clapback more than it’s a provocation, so you can’t exactly have a go at them for it. Especially when their lyricism is too goddamn good.

Their lyrics gloat and brag in all the ways you highly doubt they would have the guts to say to your face, hiding behind their beats like cowards, all while rubbing salt in the wound.

They won.

The first round of the competition was exactly as you thought – none of the other bands came close to you nor them, but they managed to pull ahead over you and take first place for the introductory round by a shockingly large amount. People ate up the novelty of something new, wanting to root for the underdogs over the previous champions, and that sets a fire under your ass like no other. the renegades have to really show up in ways they haven’t before, and while you appreciate the challenge, you’ve already explored so many genres, styles and performances, switched up instruments and vocal techniques and Wooyoung brought dancing to the bands’ stages before Stray Kids did. You’re going to need to do something real controversial to take the spotlight back now.

Luckily, if there’s one thing the runaway renegades are damn good at, it’s controversy.

It gives you something to think about, and that much you’re grateful for. Lord knows your conversation with Sunwoo has been hawking over you for days, and every glance he gives you throughout the day seems noticeably more pointed, but he doesn’t address it. You don’t either at first, waiting for him to bring it up himself, but days pass and he doesn’t say a damn word.

The longer it lingers in the air, the more unbearable it gets, so when he’s staring at you particularly hard during a break in band practice, you almost throw your mic down to the ground.

“For the love of god, Sunwoo, if you need to discuss something with me you can just say so instead of boring holes into my head,” you hiss at him, making sure to keep your voice low so your other bandmates would refrain from paying attention in favour of the lazy riffs Mingi was plucking on his bass while everyone else snacked loudly and chatted among themselves.

Sunwoo, irritatingly enough, shrugs his shoulders. “There’s nothing left to discuss. I’m just looking.”

“There’s nothing left to discuss? What did you mean by you think that told you my answer or something like you very clearly have more to say that you’re not saying-“

“It was a yes or no question. You either have an answer for me, or you don’t.”

“What answer you want to hear so bad?” you press, his sudden change in behaviour since that conversation making you question everything. Questioning things like, did he put you on the spot like that because he thought you liked them, or because he likes you?

It’s impossible to tell, with him – you’ve seen him in relationships before, but he was never truly heart-eyed or smitten over any of those partners the same way Wooyoung and Mingi are, and none of them lasted very long, probably not helped by you and Eric, and for those who came later, the rest of the band as well.

Sunwoo snorts. “That you want to focus on band practice.”

“You can’t just dodge the question like that!” you whine, feeling every bit like a child stomping their foot, but Sunwoo is a very particular brand of frustrating when he wants to be. You figure that’s why you get along so well, but right now you want to throttle him.

“Oh, like you’ve given me a yes or no yet?”

He’s calm and challenging in his tone, casually knocking his head back to gulp down water from his bottle, unintentionally – or perhaps intentionally? – showing off his jawline while he does it, and lets out an over-exaggerated ahh once he’s done just to let you know exactly how unbothered he is by this topic. Asshole.

“You-“

“Pick up that microphone right now or so god help me.”

He’s not going to give you more than that, by the looks of it, and now is not the best time to press – as much as it frustrates you to admit, you do need to focus on band practice now; you were not the only ones who picked up on Stray Kids’ arguably-subtle clapback, and the online presence of the competition has been louder this year than ever before, expecting big things from the runaways after winning last year’s battle. Your audiences aren’t very big, but they are loud, and you know they’re all waiting for you to meet your rival’s challenge.

You have to beat them. You have to.

Picking your mic back up, you heave a sigh and crack your neck, doing a few lip trills to warm up while you gather your wits about you to pry more.

“You’re not as subtle as you think, Sunwoo.”

He only shrugs again, genuinely uncaring as can be, or at least visibly so; despite your attempts, it doesn’t tell you anything at all.

“Guess I’m not.”

And what the ever-loving fuck is that meant to mean, you think, but you don’t have time to voice it when Eric hits his drumsticks together to get your attention and call a practice session again.

You win this time, Kim Sunwoo, but once we wipe the floor with the stray cats, you’re not getting out of this one.

You did not, in fact, wipe the floor with Stray Kids.

Their next performance isn’t of their new song, but it’s even more batshit than the last, just as flashy outfits and makeup and props and stunts – and naturally, the song is stupid good as well. Not just addictive to listen to, but masterfully composed and written, and as a lyricist and sometimes-composer it actually makes you furious at how good their music is.

That being said, they still couldn’t play that music live, because it seems they’re useless without their sound production software.

“Uh-oh, here come the loophole patrol,” Eric scowls bitterly, spotting your rival band over his shoulder as they head towards where you had gathered. “I can’t believe they got away with that twice. If they’re really continuing with that, it’s gotta be favouritism.”

It’s the very feline face of the man in your messages that pauses on his walk past, swivelling around at Eric’s words. “You know, if you talk shit so loudly, people might just hear you.”

“Uh, yeah, I’d sure hope they do,” Eric flashes back, “Everyone else is probably thinking the same thing anyway.”

He opens his mouth to utter a retort, but Chris is quick to grab his wrist and yank him back, giving him a warning look as if to try and keep him in check. Cute.

“Lino…”

You snort.

“Lino? You actually call him that? Don’t tell me you call that one I.N guy that too…” There’s not enough time to think about whether you deliberately wanted to provoke them further, or if that was merely a knee-jerk reaction to hearing them use their stage names with each other so casually. The way they all exchange slightly guilty-looking glances, though, just gives you the ammunition to keep going. “Oh my god. You do, don’t you? Look at you wannabe superstars…”

The leader takes a deep breath, sticking his arm out in front of the others just as they take a step forward to meet your challenge. The way they all halt and close their mouths at the simple gesture speaks volumes of their respect for Chris’s leadership – that, or they’re all just well-trained dogs who will eat out of the palm of your hand if you so much as throw them a bone. Based on your interactions with them so far, you’re more inclined to think the latter – all barring Lino, of course, as they seem to call him, he definitely seemed far more like a cat who isn’t afraid to bite the hand that feeds.

“Can we just skip the song and dance this time? You’ve already accused us of being rigged to win, you got your kicks at the club, do we have to go through this again?”

You admire the visible restraint Minho is taking to keep his mouth shut, lips flattened into a tight line that almost resembles a smile. Either he’s just another dog after all, or he knows how to pick his battles.

“No of course not,” you begin, pausing for both dramatic effect but also for time to think of a clever enough response – it’s only then when you realise that you are, in fact, deliberately trying to provoke them again. They seem to expect this, feet still glued to the floor while they stare at you a few seconds longer, waiting for the ball to drop.

Well, you’ve always been more of a snake, yourself.

“We don’t have to do anything. I’m merely just making harmless observations here, like how names can often imply ego…”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” he snaps back, blinking a second too long that you know he was definitely rolling his eyes at you on instinct. “Does your ever-changing band name have anything to deal with your ego that rivals this venue in size?”

The remaining members break out in obnoxious “oooh”s that you far prefer being on the giving end than receiving end of, making the hair on your skin stand on an end.

“Hm, maybe!” You shrug nonchalantly, thrilled at how easily they took the bait. “Having a big ego is good for the soul, I think. If you find that insulting, that’s not a me problem. Harmless observations, as I said.”

“Harmless observations my ass,” Lino scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you, but he’s smirking, and it’s a little too genuine to be one purely defensive in nature. “You’re a troublemaker on purpose, that much is obvious, I’m just trying to figure out why you feel the need to fight us so badly. Is it your little lovers quarrel, perhaps?”

He eyes Eric and Felix in turn, the two of them straightening up and face hardening at suddenly being thrust into the spotlight. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Minho, too, was instigating on purpose.

You look back at his smug little grin, and start to think maybe you don’t know better after all.

“We’re not lovers,” Felix spits, glaring directly at his ex, “At least, not anymore. I thought we were maybe friends, but that would imply not actively trying to make an enemy of me. You’re jealous, we know, just get over it. Redirect your energy into beating us next round.”

“Jealous?” Eric guffaws, but envy drips from each syllable, and you know he played right into Minho’s hands, if not Felix’s as well. (The latter doesn’t seem as deliberately sneaky.) “Jealous of what, your flashy dancing? Newsflash dumbass, we do that too! We were in a dance crew together for fuck’s sake, you can ditch Force for your buddies here but you can’t tell me you forgot that.”

He grimaces, visibly shrinking at the mention of Force. “I didn’t forget. Can we just... not? Or are you going to provoke me until I get pissed off again?”

“You look pretty pissed off right now,” Sunwoo pipes up unhelpfully, to which Eric smacks him in the arm. He’s seeing red now, and you wrack your brain for how you can run damage control without admitting defeat and bruising Eric – and the rest of the band’s, for that matter – ego even more.

Then it clicks, the exact thing Minho was doing a moment ago – deflection.

“And here I thought you’d grown a backbone, freckles,” you sigh over-dramatically before Eric could get a word in. “Suppose that depends, if we piss you off again do we get a round two?”

“You sleazy fuckboys!” Changbin roars, shouldering in front of Felix almost protectively. “Go stick your dicks somewhere else and leave us the fuck alone, we don’t want whatever STI’s you’re probably riddled with.”

“That's not what your man said in my DM’s,” you snort, cracking up into laughter when you see his face contort into a look of horror toward you then Minho. “Pack it up tough guy, freckles doesn’t need a knight in shining armour, he can speak for himself.”

“Is that not exactly what you’re doing for Eric, tough guy?” Chris challenges, and by now, Felix and Eric had broken off into their own argument while he narrows down onto you. Just like Changbin, it’s protective, from his challenge down to his body language, almost like they’re trying to block you off from Felix entirely. Like he’s their perfect little princess who can do no wrong, while you and Eric are the dragon trying to burn down his castle. Tch. Monarchists and their rose-tinted lenses they see their pretty royals through, letting them get away with anything. At least you’re letting Eric fight his own battles and stepping in only because he asked you to, but you suppose they don’t know that. Hm.

“Is it? I was merely teasing to see if I could get another chance at making freckles come so hard he can’t feel his legs, but I’d get it if you’re a little defensive, Chris. Catch more flies with honey than vinegar, right? Butter him up so you can have your chance with strings attached?”

“That’s Chan to you,” he snaps back, something about not knowing him back then being drowned out by Changbin’s loud protests. If anyone understands the importance of a chosen name, it’s you, but you consider continuing to call him Chris anyway, just to piss him off. Unless he comes out as transgender, it’s not like he can get you disqualified for a hate crime. Just for being a dick on purpose.

“We’re not all sex-crazy like you, asshole! Minho may tease, but he doesn’t sleep around with everything that moves just for the hell of it.”

Though, maybe they can be reported for slut-shaming?

“Aw. Why ever not?” San chimes in, leaning an arm on your shoulder, but you can feel the stiffness under the nonchalance he’s trying to portray. His soft heart gets hurt in fights a lot more easily than he’d like to admit. “That’s real rich, you know, considering your bandmate puts his cock and hole on the internet for a check.”

Hyunjin, who had been sassily piping into Eric and Felix’s argument, whips around without so much as a mention of his name – if it was meant to be some sort of secret, he certainly just revealed himself just now. “Are you slut-shaming me? Aren’t you literally strippers?”

“Ohoho no, we’re not slut-shaming you, your bandmate is!” you cackle, watching as Changbin continued to dig his hole even deeper with his members. He flashes a quick, apologetic glance at the sex worker in question. Hyunjin’s brow furrowed slightly, but you get the feeling that any other reaction he could’ve had was deliberately bit back to save you the satisfaction.

“That’s different—”

“Yeah? How so?” you pry further, “That he’s doing it for money and we’re doing it for fun? God forbid we enjoy sex in this good, purist household! Pfft. Shove it up your ass, Changbin, I’d be glad to do it for you. Real good at it, too.”

“You wish!” he huffs, but that only draws Wooyoung to your argument, curling himself around San’s side with one arm while his other hand stays very blatantly in Mingi’s back pocket.

“Sure do! Didn’t think you’d be such a prude after I gave you the best suck of your life, but suppose I might’ve sucked the sense out of you, too. It’s okay, I can put it back, and just wait till you see what Mingi can do—”

“Oh, are you mad just because I didn’t beat you up last time, too? I still remember how much you like pain—!”

Fists are flying in an instant, Mingi’s much longer arms and larger frame connecting with Changbin’s face before his punch could land on his boyfriend, and just as Chris – no, Chan pulls back to swing, you lunge forward to stop him; only to find yourself yanked back against a warm, flat chest. The arms around your waist keep yours bound to your side, but other than that, it’s a lot more akin to a desperate hug than a grapple.

“Please don’t fight.”

It’s a lot deeper of a voice than you were expecting to hear that accompanies the warm breath on your neck, and that’s when you realise the one holding you back is not your bandmate, but Felix. You wriggle and slip your arms free to elbow him in the ribs, but his grip doesn’t budge, instead trying to tug you backwards. “Don’t! All of you, stop fighting!”

His attempts are futile, none of the others listening to him and you resisting with all your might, too – you’ve overpowered him once before, surely you can again. You land a other well-aimed jab with your elbow that loosens his grip enough for you to break free, but within seconds he manages to hook his foot around your legs and sweep them from under you in a movement far too swift to not be practiced.

Right as you’ve accepted the fate of your skull’s second date with the ground, he catches your arm and prevents your full weight colliding with the floor, which is almost somehow even more humiliating than if he just let you eat shit.

“I don’t want to fight you, so don’t make me. I have a black belt in taekwondo and you do not want to see me use it.”

His threat sends chills down your spine. Hearing it come from someone as pathetically pacifistic as Felix – and you can tell from his tone that he’s dead serious about it too – after he just handed your own ass to you on a silver platter, is positively haunting. You almost want to test him on it, and maybe you and Wooyoung have more in common than you thought because the idea of Felix rocking your shit is rather alluring, but especially with the audience, your pride gets in the way. You can handle them thinking you’re a cheap whore, but getting routinely beat up in fights you started would just make you look weak.

“Fine then, loverboy,” you huff, quickly scrambling back to your feet and glaring at him. Before you continue drilling into him in the area more within your expertise – words – you look up and realise the fighting had finished as soon as it started, with Minho barring Changbin’s powerful arms back and Wooyoung with a decisive grip around Mingi’s wrist, Chan and Eric bickering at each other to the side about being the bigger man. (“I’m five foot seven and a twink, you be the bigger man!” “We’re the same height, genius, but I suppose since you’re so clearly lacking the inches, sure I can be the bigger man!” You’re honestly surprised Eric doesn’t try swinging again.)

“You and your nicknames, huh? What was the last one, halfer?”

You freeze, trying to examine his face for any sort of clue that reveals whether Minho opened his big mouth or not, but you wouldn’t put it past him to make it seem like he would just to grant you the humiliation of doing it yourself.

He notices your hesitation and smirks in disbelief. “What, cat got your tongue? I’ve never seen you short on words without your mouth literally stuffed, but... I like it.”

“Do you now? Will you do it yourself, then?” you tease, itching to see just how far his newfound confidence goes. Excitement bubbles up at an alarming speed given how just a moment ago you were seething, but you find yourself blurring the line between anger and arousal a little too frequently whenever pretty boys are involved. Got to get your kicks somehow, after all – does that make you a narcissist? Maybe you are, because you can’t bring yourself to care, not in cases like this where they so desperately need to be taken down a peg or two.

Get into their head, under their skin, and you’re sure to win. They may be talented and rigged to win, but this is your scene, and you know the ins and outs of it like they never will – namely, that good music is only half the battle, and stage presence is the other. They have both right now, but the latter (which you do better, anyway – definitely rigged.) relies on bravado and ego – if you can wound it enough, their performance will suffer. Stress does plenty to nuke a performance too.

You’re going to have your fun and give them hell while you’re at it.

“Gladly,” Felix retorts, tension rising as he steps back into your personal space again. “Though this time, Eric won’t be there to stop time for you, so how about we try for a record timing, huh two-minutes?”

A surge of humiliation rushes through you, but you grit your teeth and power through it to not so much as shrink under his heavy gaze. “Tch. For the record, he didn’t tell me till afterward, either – though I still don’t think you can compare a bit of bump-n-grind to straight-up giving head. Though, wait a second,” you laugh, and it at least feels like you’re saving face. “What happened to no fighting, huh? Want me so bad it’s clouding your judgement? My, freckles, I’m flattered.”

He rolls his eyes, and for a moment you think he sees right through your last-ditch attempt at deflection, but to your surprise, he instead grabs your wrist and starts pulling you away down a random corridor with startling haste.

“My judgement isn’t clouded, I much prefer this over fighting – it’s more fun, and no one gets hurt.”

His answer is characteristically pure, despite the many impure things you want to do to him that you’re sure he’s probably thinking about too; despite it all, he’s still at his core, so good. Maybe the real reason he left Eric is because Eric is a self-driven asshole who isn’t afraid to speak with his fists, doesn’t pay for half the things he brings home and never takes no for an answer once his mind is set on something.

To you though, those flaws are precisely the things you love about him as well. That same stubbornness that makes him unbearable is also his undying loyalty; you know for a fact he would go to the ends of the earth for you and the band, and previously Felix as well. The fact that he managed to break that trust? Only proves that no-one’s truly an angel after all.

You smirk. “Not unless they ask nicely.”

“Oh?” He tugs you around a corner you’re honestly not sure you’re even meant to be in, but something about that is just as thrilling as the delighted sparkle in his grin at your comment. “You gonna ask nicely then? Gonna say pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“In your dreams.”

“I could be dreaming right now.” He cages you against the wall, leaning over you and hovering his face just inches away from yours, dark eyes drinking in all of your features up close, not an ounce of shame or hesitation in them at all. Hell, with the way he smiles at you, without context it could even look romantic. “Guess we’ll have to find out?”

“Right here? How daring. Didn’t think you had it in you, freckles,” you hum, sliding your hands along his hips and digging your thumbs past the waistband of his pants. He runs a hand through your hair, slowly, gently – then closes it around your locks and pulls, just hard enough for a pleasant sting, but no more. The action is oddly intimate in its softness, and you can’t tell if he’s just that much of a gentle-hearted lover or if he really does want to hear you ask for it.

He takes his time, tilting your head this way and that, exposing your neck to him. It’s riddled with bruises of varying shades from the rest of your band, which seems to fascinate him – he trails a tiny finger along the marks, pressing down on the particularly dark ones and flicking his gaze back up to your face to catch the way your lips part slightly to sharply inhale.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he says suddenly, deep baritone cutting through the tension the momentary silence was building. You huff at him.

“No, I’m more of a gentle and meaningful lovemaking under the moonlight kinda guy,” you drawl, sarcasm thick on your tongue, but he just smiles again, a small one.

“I thought so.”

For a moment you think he’s playing along with your sarcasm, but the way he kisses down your neck is so chaste it’s almost ticklish, contrasted only by the way he knee roughly wedges your ledges apart and lodges itself between them, pressing up against you. He’s slow with his mouth’s descent, making you pull him by your hold on his pants closer to you, but he pays your rush no mind.

“You know, freckles, I was being sarcastic,” you inform him, starting to think he genuinely got the wrong message somehow. “No shit I like it rough, our last tryst was a borderline wrestling match.”

“I know.” He doesn’t even so much as look up at you, but his kisses do turn open-mouthed as he finds some unmarked skin around your collarbone, deciding to fill in the blanks – and somehow, it’s the softest hickey anyone has ever given you. You’re certain it’s on purpose now, and his next words confirm it. “I like it when people ask nicely, though.”

Motherfucker. “I’m sure you do,” you grumble, blatantly shoving him off you, much to his alarm. He only stumbles back half a step before you’re tugging him back in by the back of his neck, lips clashing together in a fervent haste.

His body stiffens for a moment and you’re about to pull back before you physically feel his resolve crumble, surging back against your mouth with a poorly concealed hunger for more. He flits frantically between firmly grasping your face with both of his little hands as he licks into your mouth and sucks on your tongue, and grabbing at your hips, your ass, your thighs, wherever he could reach, closing that distance as much as possible. It’s like he’s in a frenzy, drunk off the taste of your tongue and the warmth of your body and you can only think that you could get damn used to this.

“I’ve been thinking about this ever since that night in the Prism,” Felix confesses, and the fluttering feeling the praise gives you only lasts a moment before your next train of thought stomps it out completely; Eric was there at the Prism too. His ex. His supposed first love, who he left so carelessly, but is supposedly still in love with and just not doing anything about it even though Eric practically threw himself at him using you as a meat shield. Yet here he is, blabbering about how much he was thinking about you.

He really meant nothing to him, didn’t he?

He’s brimming with excitement, unable to resist capturing your lips in more heated kisses between his words, “I should be more angry at you. You’re a bit– You’re a lot of an asshole.” He kisses you again. “And I know you try to get on our nerves on purpose.” He kisses you again, not giving you a chance to reply, and his lips are too addicting for you to want to stop him. “And frankly, you deserved to get punched.” He kisses you again, longer this time, teeth grazing your lower lip.

“But?” you breathe out, snorting at how Felix places both hands on your butt at that, beaming cheekily at the silent pun.

“Oh, there is no but. You’re a dick, that’s it. I just want you around mine anyway.”

He’s so genuine and honest, even now, and you’re caught between liking it and being bothered by it, likely since around him you are anything but. You bluff and you lie as easily as breathing air, as frequently as a coffee order, and if he knows this, he isn’t calling you out for it anymore. Given the way he seems to wear his heart on his sleeve, though, it’s more believable to think he naively buys what you’re selling, and you wonder if he really trusted your pinkie promise that night in good faith.

Like a fool.

He’s so fucking good. You’d even go as far as to say wholesome were it not for him practically trying to shove his tongue down your throat, but even the way he does that seems so inherently good somehow. Like he’s happy to be here, making out against a wall with his ex-boyfriend’s asshole best friend who effectively is trying to bully him for their own ego and enjoyment.

You really don’t understand Lee Felix at all.

“If you think I’m an asshole now, you do not wanna see me if you hurt Eric again,” you mutter, and the way he stills again makes you wonder if you’ve crossed the line this time before he’s laughing in your face.

It’s not a loud nor boisterous laugh, more dry and callous, though there’s an edge of humour to it. Perhaps a hint of something else, but you can’t place it.

“If I...” he caresses your face, pressing your foreheads together, almost drunkenly swaying to whatever song was being performed in the background, “...hurt Eric again...” he kisses you, again, and were you any less violently turned on you may have even found it disturbing, but instead of speaking more when he stops to breathe, he merely hesitates a second and goes back in for more.

You hate how stupidly good of a kisser he is, and how bloody pleased you are to just keep going; you want him so bad, you want him all over you in the way he wouldn’t do with Eric around, you want to ruin him until he breaks – but part of you is happy enough just to kiss him like this for hours. He kisses you like he cares. Not like a lover, it’s not romantic. His actions may seem so, but you know it’s not the weight behind it, it doesn’t make sense nor does it feel like it. He kisses you like he cares about something, and while you don’t know what, or maybe who, but you know he cares a lot. You’re merely an outlet – it reminds you vaguely of how Sunwoo kisses you when he’s frustrated at something else, or how Eric kisses you when he just wants to forget. How Mingi kisses you when he wants to pretend. How San kisses you like he doesn’t know how to stop.

It’s not like you mind being an outlet. Arguably, you’re doing the same to him. You just hope he isn’t imagining Eric when he closes his eyes and breathes you in – not like you are right now.

“If I hurt Eric again,” he tries once more, forehead pressed back against yours, and all you see are his pretty freckles. Is this is way of avoiding eye contact? You zero in on his presence, his presence, not the absence of your roommate nagging at the back of your mind. Him in all his overwhelming intensity yet deceptively soft when he touches you – gentleness that feels like a threat.

“Then you can do whatever you want with me.”

“What?”

You expected a threat – hell, you maybe even wanted a threat, god knows you’d find it hot especially with that voice of his, but that? You hook two fingers into his mouth before he can close the distance between you again, pressing down on his tongue and feeling shivers at how he doesn’t even flinch or hesitate, simply wrapping those perfect lips around them and sucking on them all while holding your stare with half-lidded eyes.

“No, you can’t just use those pretty lips as a get-out-of-jail-free card, what do you mean I can do whatever I want with you? What if you’ve already hurt him again? Does that mean I can make you ruin your band’s performance on purpose or drop out of the contest or–“

He spits your fingers out and grips your chin in one hand, the other diving down to unbutton his pants. “Actually, I think I definitely prefer you with your mouth stuffed.”

“Hey, you can’t just say that then take it back–“

“We only came down here because I already said I like your mouth stuffed. And I believe you were asking me to do it for you.” He’s already shoving you down by your shoulders, unzipping his fly, the change of mood giving you whiplash. You hold your ground, crossing your arms defiantly.

“And I believe you just told me I can do whatever I want with you. So what I want is for you to either elaborate on what you meant, or shut up, get your ass up, and bend over.”

He outright giggles at you. “Cute, I know you want to fuck me. Go on then, ask nicely and use your manners and I’ll even say yes. Which I think is more than you deserve with how you repeatedly try to drag my team to make yourself feel better about yourself and get involved in other people’s business, but I can be generous.”

“You dreaming while awake now, are you?” You scoff flicking his chest. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. Face to the wall, ass out, now.”

You have an advantage here, you think. Eric has always been quite the oversharer, especially about his bedroom escapades, and while you definitely forgot a lot of it, there is one thing that sticks out in your memory – his submissive lean. How the two of them would switch often, but it would only take a bit of bossiness to make Felix weak in the knees, and your night at the Prism only seemed to confirm that. He just loves confidence and assertiveness, he eats it up and comes back for seconds, and damn if you don’t want to see it for yourself.

“I don’t take orders from you, small fry. On your knees.”

Suppose you’re not Eric, after all.

“What makes you think I’d listen to you then, halfer? I don’t care if it was technically two minutes, I still made you come in your pants like a horny teenager and you were whining for more. The fuck you calling small fry? I’m like, eye-level with that aggro, loud-ass guard dog of yours. You should put a muzzle on him, by the way, and his boyfriend too for that matter–“

“Pfft, you mean Changbin? Sure, maybe in those boots you are, but he could snap you like a twig. Heard he almost did before Lino showed up.”

“You know, I like that Lino fucker. He’s got a flair for the dramatics, and being a hypocritical shit-stirrer, even to his team and his boyfriend. You know he was purposely trying to get a rise out of you and Eric back there, right?”

He was getting more worked up now, not that the bulge in his pants needed to be any more obvious than earlier, but now his giddy excitement fizzles into something far more potent, raw, and hot to touch, increasing your excitement tenfold. As soon as he loses his cool, you win, you realise, so you make sure he couldn’t cool down if he tried, finally going along with his hand on your shoulder and sinking down to the floor and pulling his length free from his boxers.

“Hmm, too bad you’re keener than he is, I would’ve loved to take him and his boyfriend for a spin – though to be fair, they were pretty keen still,” you go on as you stroke him slowly, but squeezing him tight enough to see his jaw clench. “That leader of yours though, now he’s a piece of work. Has the whole lot of you so well-trained like pets, huh? You guys like that? It’s so pathetic it’s almost adorable.”

“How about you keep my cock in your mouth and my band the fuck out of it?”

You laugh at him, sardonic and demeaning. “I don’t take orders from you either, halfer.”

He tongues the inside of his cheek, huffing indignantly before grabbing your chin again to force you to look him in the eyes, and something seems to click behind them. He huffs again, a smirk spreading across his face as he lets his grip on yours go, patting your cheek condescendingly. “Open your mouth.”

He doesn’t leave any room for argument – not that you couldn’t make room if you wanted to, but teasing him within an inch of his life is a lot easier with him in your mouth, so just this once, you obey.

What you don’t expect is for him to spit directly into your mouth, with surprising accuracy given the difference in elevation. His hand comes up beneath your chin before you can react, pushing your jaw shut.

“Swallow.”

You hate how you already did on instinct when he closed your mouth, and you hate even more how it makes you press your thighs together in arousal.

“Good boy.” He grins at you, wider this time, then combs his fingers through your hair and tugs again, pulling your head closer to him. “Now suck.”

You want to sass him back, tease him some more, leave him hanging just a little longer, but when he speaks to you like that, even lower than the usual bass of his speaking voice, all sultry and commanding – so unexpected from him, so fucking hot, you don’t have it in you to wait any longer. You need to hear that voice of his again, those pretty, pretty sounds he makes when you give him exactly what he wants; you bet it’ll sound even prettier when you take it away from him.

You take him into your mouth, not wasting any time relaxing your throat and taking him all the way in, to his surprise – he lets out a startled yelp that cuts off as he shuts his mouth at the same time as he screws his eyes shut, teeth digging into his lower lip. Were you not deep-throating him, you would’ve smiled. It’s not a pleasant feeling, in all honesty – you’re not like Wooyoung or San, who just love having their mouths full, but you do enjoy the effect it has enough for you to be well-practiced, and once you could fit most of Mingi down your throat, anyone else was a piece of cake.

“Fuck,” Felix hisses out, gripping your hair tighter, but he doesn’t try to make you move, nor does he try to move, but you don’t miss the way he keeps tensing up at how your throat contracts around him. “God— heh, I really do like you better with your mouth stuffed. So fucking good.”

With every noise you pull from those sinful lips at each movement of your mouth along him, the temptation to have him for real grows stronger. You work him closer and closer to the edge without wasting any time teasing him, ignoring the dull ache in your jaw and digging your nails into his quivering thighs. The quicker you can edge him, the less you have to fight against your self-control – after all, you can have your needs taken care of once you get home, anyway.

He stops you before you can get there though, his grip in your hair pulling you off him and prompting you back up on your feet so he can kiss you again roughly.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks breathlessly against your lips, “I’ll do it right here, right here in this hallway.”

Yes, god, please yes. Your resolve thins. “Not such a good boy after all, huh? What if we get caught, hmm?”

Every lick of logic and rationale you have in you is telling you to not, because there’s no point getting Felix disqualified from the competition if you bring the band down with him, but you haven’t heard anyone coming down this way yet, since you’re pretty sure it was staff-only and the staff should be busy with the other contestants right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe.

“Guess we better not get caught, then.”

Throwing all caution to wind in your lust-filled haze, you hook an arm around his neck and pull him to you, your other hand undoing your pants and shimmying them down, already dripping wet and throbbing for him. He chuckles darkly at your haste, teasing your clit with the tip of his dick, chuckling again at how your body twitches at the sensitivity from each slight touch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Just put it in already.”

He chuckles again, deep and husky and mind-numbingly attractive, but doesn’t make any move to give it to you.

“Then beg.”

Your eyes fly open, staring at him in disbelief as a surge of outrage pulses through you. “Excuse me?”

He stares right back with an unbridled intensity, those sharp eyes boring into you.

“Beg for it, and I’ll give it to you.”

You scoff.

“No.”

He teases at your entrance, watching your face for any sign of restraint, but you stay steady. If he thinks you’re going to sink so low as to beg for his dick in a ratty corridor, he’s dead wrong. You may be a degenerate, but for him? There’s no way you’re giving him the satisfaction.

“You want me bad enough to let me fuck you right here in public, you can beg for it just once,” he reasons, but he should know better than to think someone like you could be so easily reasoned with. The fact that he ever thought he could get away with it just proves you need to remind him of his place – beneath you. A boy toy to play with at your whims, because you hold the control, not him.

“I don’t think I can,” you coo with faux disappointment, giving him one last chance to quit while he’s ahead. “If you want to fuck me, Felix, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

He senses your challenge, and knows that if he does give in, you win – and lord knows you’re still hanging your previous victory over his head. Deciding he’s not going to give you what you want so easily, he pushes himself off the wall, shrugging with feigned nonchalance. “Nice try. You’re going to beg, or you’re getting nothing.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Huh?”

He can’t hide the flash of surprise across his face as you slip away from him, swiftly pulling your pants back up and re-doing the button, walking off without a word.

“You’re bluffing. Get back here.”

He called your bluff last time, but this time you are dead serious. You don’t need him, or his dick, or even his pretty lips and sexy voice. You want him, sure, you make no secret of that – but in the end, he’s still Eric’s shitty ex trying to take your bands crown with a shoddy excuse of a band, and just because you’re a stripper doesn’t mean you’re easy.

You’ll have him on your terms, or you won’t have him at all.

“You sure like to call bluff. Too bad I’m not bluffing, halfer – I got better dicks to ride. You’re not special.”

You don’t even so much as spare him a glance over your shoulder as you strut off, and he takes a second to recover before tucking himself back into his pants and storming after you.

“That wasn’t what you were saying when you were all over me just then, or back at the Prism—”

“I basically did,” you snort, pivoting around on your heel to jeer at him. “Why do you think Eric won our little contest? Get over yourself, you’re hot but you’re nothing more than a plaything to me. And what happens to playthings when their owner gets bored?”

“I’m not yours to play with,” Felix growls, anger bubbling over where arousal once was – or maybe directly alongside it. “You don’t own me, or anyone – are you seriously that up yourself? Wow. I’m sure Eric is so lucky to have a friend like you.”

The glare you give him at that is fucking scalding – how dare he question your relationship to Eric? How dare he ecen bring him up now? He’s the one who abandoned him. Seems like he’s just like most other cis men you know – all sweet until you don’t put out. How typical.

“At least I’m not the one who left,” you spit in his face, whirling back around and pacing off without any intent of turning back.

[puppyluver256]

[Image Description: Koga, part of the Elite Four in Gold and Silver (and its remakes Heart Gold and Soul Silver), with his Crobat. Koga is standing in the middle of a room meant to resemble a shadowy forest, with cobblestone pathing around the top half of a green Pokeball-shaped mat. He has his hands in front of his chest crossed over a red and white Pokeball. The Crobat, a large purple bat with two sets of wings, is flying by his side. End ID.]

-----

“Fwahahahaha! I am Koga of the Elite Four. I live in shadows—a ninja! My intricate style will confound and destroy you! Confusion, sleep, poison... Prepare to be the victim of my sinister techniques! Fwahahahaha! Pokémon are not merely about brute force—you shall see soon enough!”

More Johto with a familiar face! Koga's back, babey! And yeah, I'm just gonna use this opportunity to confirm that I will be drawing all the Kanto gym leaders again--I kinda have to, given my love of the drastic redesigns and the fact that there's a new one and also there's one Kanto original that I never drew during the initial Kanto set--so this series is gonna go quite a bit longer than some might've initially expected hehe. Though I will be skipping redraws of Bruno and Lance as Bruno's design isn't different enough for me to justify it and Lance would've not only been in the same situation if I had gone with my original plan to draw his FRLG design over his LGPE design (curse you low quality image reference!!), he'd end up getting drawn with the same Pokemon again anyway due to Johto literally only adding one (1) dragon and giving it to his cousin XD Yeah, I could draw Dragonite again too, but part of the purpose of this series is to also expand my repertoire in drawing various Pokemon so I want to avoid repeats for as long as I can unless they are Pokemon that are inherently significant to the trainer's story and personality beyond just being a fun 'mon on their team.

💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖

~Likes are appreciated, but reblogs are greatly preferred as they let more people see my content! If you have something to say, feel free to give feedback in tags/comments/replies as well!~

Koga, Crobat, and other Pokemon concepts © Nintendo/GameFreak Artwork © PuppyLuver Studios

[sinfulsalutations]

🌻,🤍 and 💌 for the writer asks? Luv u babe <33

luv u too dear 🥰

writing ask game

🌻 what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going

oooh, this is tough to think about. id say i’ve had ups and downs with writing but for me it was a lot of internal conflict with myself or things getting in the way. it wasn’t writing itself, more depression, school, extracurriculars, etc. but i’d say what keeps me going is just the pure joy i get from writing. like, sure, writing can be tough but i also love it so much and can’t imagine not doin it.

🤍 what’s one fic of yours you think people didn’t “get”?

ahhh sorry for the cop out but i genuinely don’t think i’ve had a fic like that. it seems like most fics i’ve posted my message and theme and ideas got across pretty well in the feedback i’ve received.

💌 share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited

omg omg i’m soooo glad you asked this i have been DYING to talk about riding the soundwave (i even posted a snippet of it if ur curious 🤭) it is my hunter x reader fic HEAVILY based on this thread i had made. hearing everyone’s contributions and appreciating his voice just got the cogs turning and now its turning into something full fledged and spicy!! i’m having sm fun writing it and trying out new styles, as it is my first full oneshot written in second person AND just getting to write more about hunter is awesome, lol.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

Mileven AU WIP For WIP Wednesday!!!!

Hey, guys!!! I've been slowly working on this story for a few months. I took a break from it for a couple of months but just recently started working on it again. I know it's not much right now, but that's what a WIP is supposed to be, right?? First time I'm showing anyone this that isn't @obeymeh03 (yes, I'm tagging you, deal with it) so I'm curious what y'all think 👀👀 Lemme know, please!!! Any and all feedback is appreciated!! I know El isn't directly in what I have so far, but she's mentioned if you look closely 😌😌😌

×××××××××××××

Mike sighs as he shuts off the engine and slips out of the car, closing the driver's side door behind him. He locks it and slips the keys into his jeans pocket, walking right up to the front of the line for the club, ignoring the curses and exasperated looks people send him as he does. He flashes his ID to the bouncer and he's let in right away. Being best friends with the owners of the place has its perks, of course. He ducks through the door and heads straight to the bar first.

"Heeeeyyyy, Wheeler! Fancy seeing you here tonight. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if you were gonna show." Steve exclaims as he spots Mike, setting down the bottle he was holding and walking over.

"Hey, man. Sorry 'bout that, got caught up. Had a long shoot this afternoon and I slept too long afterwards. But I'm here now, no need to send out the search parties." Mike says as he grins at the bartender.

Steve grins right back. "Good to see you, man." He says, reaching into his pocket. "And, uh, that favor you asked me about?" He continues as he hands Mike a piece of paper. Mike takes it quickly, holding onto it as if it'll disappear if he isn't gripping it like his life depends on it.

"Shit, man, thank you so much for this. Seriously, you have no idea." Mike says gratefully.

Steve gives Mike a sad, knowing smile. "Yeah, I know, that's why I did it." Steve says sincerely.

The expression Steve is giving him starts to make Mike uncomfortable, hating the sympathy he sees in it. No, that's not for tonight. He clears his throat as he slips the paper into his pocket with his keys, that way he'll remember that he has it.

"Thanks, Steve. I think I'm gonna head up to the group. I'll see you up there, yeah?" Mike asks.

"Yeah, I'll definitely be there." Steve tells him as he gives a mock salute and then turns away to continue working.

Mike chuckles and shakes his head as he turns away, heading for the stairs leading up to the second floor of the place. He climbs up the transparent spiral staircase and heads to to the middle of the second floor, slipping past the curtains in the doorway of the room he knew the rest of the group would be in. He has eyes on him as soon as he enters and he grins.

"Mike Wheeler! My man, welcome! Glad you could finally make it. Though surprisingly, you're not the last one here." Dustin greets him as Mike rolls his eyes playfully.

"You say that as if I'm always late." Mike retorts.

Eddie snorts as he sets his beer down on the table. "Oh hush, little Mikey. We all know you avoid being on time like the plague."

Mike sighs, exasperated, as he slides into the booth next to the curly-haired man.

"Yeah, yeah. So who are we waiting on?" He asks, switching topics.

Suzie pipes up then. "Nancy and Robin, and Steve's gonna head up right before the clock strikes midnight. Well, Lucas and Max aren't here at the table, but they're downstairs mingling and waiting for Robin and Nancy to get here so that we can kick things off." She states.

"Oh, and I think Max mentioned some new friend of hers when they were up here earlier, so she might be coming as well." Chrissy told Mike.

Mike nods, grabbing one of the beers from the middle of the table. "Okay, cool. Hopefully everyone gets here soon, it's almost time." He says as he takes a drink, closing his eyes and relishing in the familiar taste.

"Yeah, man, we didn't all come here just to be late." Dustin says.

For a good few minutes, they all just talk and laugh and have a good time, catching each other up on the past week and watching as the clock ticks closer to midnight. At 11:57, the rest of their group arrives. Robin and Nancy enter the room first, Max and Lucas close behind.

"We're here, everybody, we're here!" Robin announces as her and Nancy grab chairs from a different table in the room and pull them close up to the table, taking a seat. Max and Lucas stay standing, still in the roles of gracious hosts, as always.

"Took you long enough!" Eddie exclaims, sliding two glass beer bottles towards Nancy and Robin as he does.

Nancy takes hold of hers as she rolls her eyes. "You know we were out of town, Eds. It's a long drive and we underestimated how long it would take." She tells him, leaning her head on Robin's shoulder.

××××××××××

This has also not been beta'd or proofread at all recently 💀💀💀

I'd also like to add that this story is very, very angsty and will be labeled as either mature or explicit, for many reasons, so if either of those aren't your thing, I'd highly recommend you not read this story. But you can make your own choices, of course! I'm just letting you know ahead of time!!

[flamecanna6547]

Flame Dispensary

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More and more people are turning to trustworthy online marketplaces to buy goods like cannabis, rather than the tried-and-true method of physically going to stores. This is the only website of its kind in the industry. It is clear that these businesses are outproducing their competitors.

Before you go to the dispensary, make sure you read the directions thoroughly.

Fill out this form or give Flame Dispensary a call to set up a delivery of cannabis. Here, you have a choice between two possibilities.   No matter what approach you select, packing will be a snap if you compile a detailed inventory of your belongings and keep track of your spending.

After that, we'll set up a time for you to come get your belongings. Taking care of any prerequisites is the second stage. It would greatly assist us in resolving your issue if you could please supply us with the following facts. We are extremely grateful for your help. New users' identities must be confirmed before any data may be made accessible to them. Once you're a member, you can see what everyone has posted. Due to this stipulation, they are unable to participate in the verification.

After you're ready to pay, choose "curbside" as your delivery preference. Upon your order's readiness for collection, you will be notified by text message.

Making sure our customers use our cannabis products correctly is our top priority. Until they take action, all we can do is wait.

"Could you please show me how to place my first order at Flame Dispensary?" is a common question. What, in my view, is the absolute least that must be accomplished before anything can be considered noteworthy?

To make a purchase, you only need one type of government-issued photo ID. One additional thing needs to be considered before anything else. Any person can legitimately purchase anything as long as their medical card is current and genuine. A proper form of identification must be carried by the patient at all times.

Are debit cards an option for payment? We greatly value your feedback.

Cash and debit cards are only two of the many payment options available for your lunch. Both of these methods of payment are acceptable to us. You have the freedom to choose the method of payment that suits you most because this dispensary accepts both debit and cash dispensary near santa rosa ca You can pay using either of these options. Paying with cash is better than using a debit card. Using a debit card at an ATM will round up the amount to the nearest $5.00 if you pay $3.50. They suggested I jot everything down to make sure I don't forget anything. I appreciate you being here today. Please know how much I appreciate your help with this. Prior to delivering it to you, we ensured that the content was both comprehensible and relevant. We are unable to take client payments right now.

Could you tell me more about the products sold at your dispensary? Do not hesitate to inquire further if you require any other information. Kindly let me know if you are cognizant of this. I would sob uncontrollably if I saw that. Strangest thing that has ever occurred to me was meeting the person who would end up being my best friend for the rest of my life by pure chance. As a general rule, people want to be there for each other.

Cannabis of the highest quality, delivered to your home at an affordable price. There is a substantial market for all things related to cannabis, including flower, pre-rolls, extracts, and edibles. Our customer care representatives are available around the clock to respond to your inquiries and address your concerns. The filters on the main menu allow you to narrow your search.

It is only fair that buyers can send things back if they are unhappy with them.

Please let us know within seven days of delivery if you are unhappy with your purchase and would want a refund. If you are unhappy with your purchase, simply return it according to the instructions. In the case that something goes missing, finding a replacement shouldn't be too difficult. If for any reason you are unhappy with your purchase, please contact us at info@flamecanna.com or stop by our store. It is our pleasure to be of service to you. If you require any additional information or have any queries, please do not hesitate to contact us. We are here to help. You can contact me whenever you like.

Having cannabis in your possession seems to be against the law.

The chemical industry will not face punishment, according to a California federal judge. The legalization of cannabis in California is not something we plan to emulate. Moving cannabis items over state boundaries is typically not a smart idea. Among the several issues plaguing this approach is this. If you look back over all you've learned so far, maybe you can make sense of what's happening.

In order to get my medical marijuana prescription filled by your firm, I failed to provide the necessary paperwork.  Will I be able to finish this?

To make a purchase, you must be at least 21 years old and have a valid government-issued identification card.

[nomstellations]

Rayquaza?

SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER it’s way longer than a drabble! i wanted to do a lot of new things w this one and used your request to experiment with some stuff...i hope you like it! 

Carrying a basket full of flowers, Meille leaned down and plucked a few from the meadow she was walking through and tucked them away. She smiled to herself looking at her haul, this should be plenty of flowers to weave into a lovely wreath to offer to Lord Tropos. He quite liked the scent of the flowers that grew here on the mountain, it would make for a nice offering to adorn his domain with.

Lord Tropos was the guardian deity of the humble mountain village Meille called home. He watched over not only the village, but the ruins nearby and whatever they contained. Despite his size and intimidating appearance, he was a rather kind deity and enjoyed interacting with the villagers. A little wreath of flowers was a humble offering to him, but it was one she knew he’d appreciate. Now to get back home and get to work on it…it was a bit of a trip to the temple he resided in, and she wanted to deliver it before sundown! With this goal in mind Meille started the trek back home. It shouldn’t be long, it was just a stroll on this path through a little wooded area….

However, before she could make it far, growling from someplace among the trees caught her attention. There weren't many hostile things that lived up here, could it just be a hurt animal? There was a little grove close by, it sounded like it came from there…not one to shy away from someone or something in need, Meille abandoned the path to investigate. She stumbled over a thick green vine on the ground on her way to the clearing, but upon closer investigation…it was a familiar scaly tail. Something was wrong. Carefully sneaking around it and following it back to its source and hiding behind a tree to see what was going on. Lo and behold, there was her village deity coiled around some poor soul, and he looked furious.

"Interloper," he hissed, glaring at the man in his coils. "Did you truly think I wouldn’t notice you and your group skulking about? Plotting in the shadows?” His coils grew a little tighter, and the man in his grip whimpered. “N-no, we’re just l-lost! We were gonna ask for directions in that nice village close by-” He was cut off with a groan from the tightening coils around him. “So you could bring harm to them? I am no fool, boy…” The god leaned down, his bangles and jewelry jingling as he met gazes with the man. “I’ve been to your camp. You came here prepared to steal, and fight if you must. You know this village hides treasure…and I’m willing to bet you thought the village’s guardian was just a mere human, hmm? You thought wrong.”

Meille could hardly watch, but something transfixed her to the scene unfolding before her. She had never seen Lord Tropos act this way before…he was always gentle and kind, he treated everyone with care and was always mindful of his size and strength. But here…he was downright frightening. "P-please! If you let me go, I’ll never set foot on this mountain again! I-I swear!”

"Oh, you most certainly won't." He bared his fangs, a low growl starting in his throat. "I have no patience for petty thieves who think they can stomp around and rob who they please. I'll show you how I deal with scum like you entering my domain."  Tropos' next movement was so swift, neither Meille nor the thief in his coils had any time to react. His mouth opened wide, clamping down over the poor man’s head and half of his torso. Meille could only watch in shock and stunned awe as her guardian deity started to swallow, pulling the thief into his throat. He was devouring someone alive when she knew Lord Tropos to be a peaceful and gentle sort…yet something about this scene transfixed her rather than terrify her, and she watched the wriggling form of the thief slowly vanish between his jaws. It was fascinating to watch each gulp pull him deeper, the little bumps and bulges he made slowly vanishing into his body. It was over rather quickly thanks to Lord Tropos’ size, and he reclined in his coils with an irritated sigh as his meal settled into his first stomach and promptly started to kick up a fuss. Meille knew she should run, if he had a taste for people like that he could definitely make short work of her for seeing! But…something told her that wasn’t the case here.

Not like she had the chance to run anyhow, because he just so happened to look over and spot her staring at the wriggly bulge in his middle. His expression went from annoyed to surprised, face flushing in embarrassment as he had been caught full-bellied. “Ah!” Meille shrunk back behind the tree, causing his face to soften. “It’s okay little one, the danger is gone now. I…can explain, if you’ll allow me.” The god’s tone was back to its usual softness he often addressed the villagers with…hesitantly, Meille nodded. 

“Good. Come closer, if you would.”

Meille obeyed, gently setting down her basket of flowers and approaching Lord Tropos. He smiled at her, hoping to ease her tensions as he shifted to pick her up and place her on his emerald green coils. Meille shifted, eyes still on his stomach which was still twitching and wriggling about. This close she could hear muffled protests accompanied by gurgles…were they going to be okay? As if reading her mind he spoke. “I know it looks…bad, yes, but do you remember the promise I made to your people? If I had truly wanted to hurt him I would’ve bit him in two.” His voice lowered to a whisper, hoping his dinner guest wouldn’t hear this. “I have no intentions of harming this man or his colleagues, I only do harm when absolutely necessary. It’s not necessary to now, this was just to give him a scare…I’ll release him near his camp later, where he’ll turn tail and flee before they all get eaten. It works every time.”

Now reassured that nothing bad would happen, Meille continued to study the bulge in his stomach. She was more curious than anything else, wondering how it must feel to be in a stomach. This fellow certainly didn’t seem to like it much, if the muffled curses were anything to go by. “Um…does it hurt, having him wriggle around like that?” “Not particularly. It is rather annoying though, eating like that takes so much out of me…it’s hard to rest with him fighting so hard. I’m impressed.”

Meille frowned, he couldn’t rest…maybe she could do something about that. She moved closer, causing the god to shift to accommodate her as she planted her hands on his stomach, feeling the subtle movements beneath them. “Hmm? What are you doing, little one?” “I-if it’s not too forward, um…I want to help you relax! Think of it as thanks for keeping us safe…I know most of us don’t really touch you without permission, but…” Lord Tropos laughed. “Don’t be so stiff! That’s rather thoughtful of you. You seem quite curious about this anyhow, and I’m not one to stifle that. You may carry on.”

Despite his reassurance she still felt a bit nervous to be so up close and personal to him, but she eased her hands into his stomach and began to massage it. The thief inside registered this movement and started to squirm harder in protest, but with the combined internal and external massages his movements gradually started to settle. The dragon’s stomach appreciated the attention, happily burbling and grumbling as it harmlessly worked beneath her hands. Lord Tropos sighed, reclining further in his coils as he began to relax. “My my…you’re quite the little masseuse, aren’t you? Thank you. You’re welcome to rest here with me if you’d like, I know the village is close by…but that was quite a bit of excitement, don’t you agree? I’ve been told my tail is rather comfortable, too.”

It was surprisingly soft, yeah. If he was offering, it shouldn’t hurt…Meille pulled herself away from his stomach and opted to rest on his tail, closing her eyes and enjoying the sunlight on her. Now beginning to doze, her final thoughts before sleep claimed her was how comforting the sound of his stomach was.

[townieleesims]

@greatbritishsimchallenge: I'm so sorry your game broke 💔

me too, i was having so much fun!! 😭 i even tried putting them in a new save :( but journey still cant eat or feed her baby without glitching out and i cant for the life of me figure out what’s causing it 😭😭 

[lovesharder]

hi  tags  idk  what  i  want  to  do  so  help  me  figure  it  out  asdfgh  !

[jaylaxies]

PLEASURE PRINCIPLES

PAIRING : masseur!jay x fem!reader

GENRE : smut, unprotected sex (use protection y'all), fingering, use of word 'madam', jay being a gentleman, strangers to fwb, semi-public sex.

SYNOPSIS : after a long and stressful year of university, your friend convinces you to get a massage, letting you know how good their services are. you agree and gave it a try, not knowing that the massage you'll get will be life changing.

WC : 2.5k words

WARNING : 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N : hihi! aaa i can't believe i have 2k of y'all now <3 i wanted to write this concept for so long and it's finally here now as a thank you to y'all for supporting me this far! i hope y'all enjoy it :D all likes, reblogs, comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated ᥫ᭡

dishevelled hair, dark eyes bags and a small frown plastered upon your face. that's what your mirror reflected back at you, the frown soon turning into a pout. university has been horrible to you, constant exams and myriad of assignments left no time for you to take care of yourself and it clearly showed.

so when the exams finally did end a day before yesterday, all you did was–sleep, waking up only to order food from your favourite restaurant and eating while gushing about your new idol crushes, only to go back to sleep again.

'uni is all fun and parties' your older friends had told you while you were in highschool. "a bunch of liars." you rolled your eyes, trying to understand if the person in the mirror was actually you.

your ringtone snapped you out of your self-staring session. you picked it up without checking the caller id, knowing there's only one person who'd call you.

"hey, yeji." you greeted, no zeal in your voice.

"y/n! why do you sound so–" she paused, "lifeless?" she wondered out loud.

"the question is, how are you so energetic after those hell of exams?" you groaned, throwing yourself on the bed again.

"please don't tell me you've been sleeping ever since exams finished?" she asked, well knowing that it's exactly what you did.

guilty, you just shrugged your shoulders, forgetting that she won't be able to see it. the silence said it all and yeji sighed, changing the topic.

"i got a massage from the spa shop that opened recently." she squealed, always excited about self pampering.

"the one everyone's been gushing about on campus?" you asked, your eyebrow perking up on its own. yeji nodded as if you could see her.

"it's called luscious lather! it's as fancy as the name suggests. that place is so fucking cool, i could get weekly massages there!" she spoke all too fast and you were sure she was smiling from the way she spoke.

weekly massages? it sounded tiring to you, the same thing happening over and over again? what would be so amazing about it?

she continued before you could reply, "they gave me a coupon to use for my next visit—which i'll be giving to you, i bet you look no less than a zombie right now and that massage is all you need to be my angel y/n again!" she finalized.

"wait–" your eyes widened at the sudden situation.

"i'm sending you the e-coupon right away and fixing an appointment for you, be there at 3pm tomorrow!" she screamed before hanging up. typical yeji, you thought, smiling at her antics.

a massage didn't sound so bad considering how stiff your body had become at such an early age. maybe you should have exercised a bit more.

you grabbed your laptop, trying to search for the said spa. several images popped up, it looked modernly royal, the perfect aesthetic for you.

as per the photos, it had a big reception area and different rooms for each kind of package/deal. the last pic however grabbed your attention the most; the staff. each of them looked stunning, this is probably why the spa is talk of the town.

one of them stood out to you, his jawline being too sharp to ignore. strong jaw structure and deep brown eyes, that's all you could see by zooming in the low quality picture.

a text 'ding' brought you back to reality, you had stared at the attractive stranger for a bit too long. the notification was of yeji, she had sent the coupons.

yeji ᥫ᭡ :

*attached image*

have fun tmrw bb ;)

me :

will do, thank you babe ;)

the wink emoticon was confusing to say the least, it was just a massage after all, wasn't it? without much ponder, you decided to sleep yet again, a better way to skip time till tomorrow. your tired body gladly accepted the rest, going into a deep slumber in just a few minutes.

•••••

2:45 pm, you were standing in front the huge spa. the plot being bigger than what you had initially expected. the automated doors slid open, a gush of cold air hitting your face in the bliss. you could sense the change in your surroundings, dark counters and plush sheets indicating how posh it was.

the aroma screamed luxury and serenity, you walked over to the receptionist, a young lady with her hair tied up in the most perfect ponytail you've ever come across.

"hello ma'am! how may i help you today?" she questioned, a smile plastered onto her face which screamed business.

"hello, i've got a massage appointment under the name of y/n, please." you smiled back at her.

a few seconds of her checking and soon, you were being guided into one of the massage rooms by a guy with the prettiest moles on his face, you assumed he'd be the one who's assigned for your massage.

"you can change here, madam, your masseur will be here shortly." he handed you a single towel, showing you the way of changing room and leaving after flashing you a beautiful smile.

you were a bit disappointed that he wasn't your masseur but you looked forward to who it was now. you stripped down and wrapped the towel around you, sitting down on the sofa near the spa bed and scrolling through your phone as you waited.

a knock made you aware that your masseur was here. you softly said 'come in' and the door opened, revealing a tall man. the same man you saw in photos yesterday to be more precise.

"welcome to luscious lather, madam. i'm jay and i'll be your masseur today." he spoke in his low, deep voice.

you smiled at him for his honorific filled tone, thanking him with your expressions. you took a moment to take his appearance in as he took out all oils and towels he needed for the activity.

his jawline was sharp as you saw in the blurry photo, his face ethereal as if he was carved by gods themselves. your stare wasn't subtle which caused jay's lip to twitch from the corner.

he came closer to you, "you can lay down now, miss." he spoke, his mere voice sending shivers down your spine. you were in trouble and you knew it.

a sudden awareness struck your mind, you had to be naked in front of this attractive man, and he had to touch you. the basics of massage, right? but why were you so scared?

you laid down, still in your towel which had to be removed for further continuation. jay gently removed your towel, leaving you naked and your cheeks flushed. you noticed how his eyes lingered for a second too long on your body before he covered your breasts and pelvic region with two neatly half folded towels, barely hiding your intimate areas.

you tried to focus on the soft music and the faint aroma in the room but no avail, your eyes kept flickering back to jay. even in his plain white t-shirt, he looked attractive. he placed a rolled towel under your head to support you. soon, he poured oil on your shoulders, spreading it by softly massaging that area.

his touch was soothing yet powerful enough for your muscles to relax, all your knots started to open up, as his fingers digging into your skin pleasurably. you noticed a small pout on his face as he concentrated on his given work.

soon, his hands moved from your shoulders near your neck, gently massaging your sensitive clavicle, moving down to your boobs, but never once touching them. it was like all your workload suddenly went south, your body finally losing months of pent up tension. it went on for a good few minutes, all your knots opening up one by one, sending your body into bliss, you never knew you needed this.

you sighed, content with jay's large hands working on your body. he stopped to gather more warm oil in his hands, going down and massaging your thighs, now, kneading your flesh with expertise.

midst of his work, jay couldn't help but focus on how sensitive your body was. he worked on your inner thighs, the squeezes turning you on, making you close your legs to the maximum amount possible. jay noticed that. despite maintaining his decorum and professionalism, he couldn't abstain but imagine how your body would shiver against his.

biting his lip, he spread your legs, to massage further, of course. your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him near your cunt, fingers digging painfully close to your wetness, making you hiss out a curse.

"everything alright, madame?" he asked, a subtle smirk plastered on his devilishly attractive face.

"yeah! of course!" your eyes flew open, not expecting a question, voice suddenly high pitched. safe to say, you were embarrassed, but at the same time, you never wanted this feeling to end.

his dark eyes pierced into yours, as he continued to move his hand, so close but not once touching your now throbbing core. he hadn't even done anything and yet you were pathetically clenching around nothing. your breathing sped up, and before you knew it, a whimper left your mouth.

your eyes widened to see jay fully smirking now, biting his lip alongside. your body shivered under his touch, as he poured oil on your pussy, removing the barely there towel, leaving your lower body naked.

you weren't sure if this was included in your package but you were willing to take anything this man had to offer you. his thumb softly circled around your clit, looking at you in the process. you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, looking at jay with need.

"please." you croaked out with flushed cheeks.

"please what, madam?" he politely asked, not once forgetting his manners yet, seemingly cocky, making you word out your needs. 

through his actions went opposite to his words, his fingers now circling your clit faster, "oh fuck–" you had cried out loud.

"shh, we don't want others knowing now, do we?" he spoke, already semi hard with your pretty voices.

you were glad to know that he was on the same page but, it wasn't enough for you.

"want more." you whined at the slow pace of his fingers which teased your entrance.

"as you wish, madam." he spoke, getting closer and spreading your legs further, inserting two digits at once.

you clenched around his fingers as he pumped into you mercilessly, as if trying to finger fuck all the stress out of you. low moans resounded the room, toes curling as you reached the brink of your orgasm. jay felt you shivering under his touch, so he decided to take it a step further, rubbing your clit with his thumb, stimulating you further.

"ah, please don't stop!" you gasped at how he made a simple orgasm feel so intense.

and he didn't stop, making your back arch and legs quiver by the time you reached your climax. the knot in your stomach finally coming down freely on jay's fingers. you couldn't think straight for the next few minutes, breathing deeply to reach down from the euphoria.

meanwhile, jay was painfully hard, your low moans, fucked up expression and red watery eyes were enough for him to lose his sanity. this was the first time he went against his customer service policy and he wasn't regretting it one bit.

"tell me what you want." jay asked, carrying you to the couch next to your massage table and gently putting you down, brushing stray hair away from your face.

"is sex massage therapy a thing?" your hormones were speaking by now, making jay let out a pretty smile.

"let's discover it, shall we, madam?" he raised his brow, making you nod at once, still eager.

within seconds, he was naked on top of you, kissing and fondling with your breasts, massaging it in all the right ways. his cock rubbed against your wet core, sending shivers down your spine.

you had booked a stress relieving massage, and that's exactly what you were getting, his hands not leaving your body even once, giving you the outmost pleasure you're ever received.

you felt him prod at your entrance, kissing you straight before filling you up with his dick. the kiss successfully blocked the loud moan which you were eager to let out. jay was huge, he filled you up deliciously, rocking his hips back and forth until he was buried in you.

you held his broad shoulders for support, hands slowly gripping his silky hair in a fist. he groaned, particularly loving this gesture.

you let out a sob, clenching around his length as you felt another knot building up in your stomach. jay thrusted powerfully, heightening the sensation and further providing you bliss.

"jay–" you gasped, every part of your body was sensitive to the core. jay rubbing your clit only added more to it.

he loved it, the way his name rolled off your tongue, further encouraging him to do more. heat pooled your cheeks, being fucked by your hot masseur was never something you had expected to happen. though, you weren't opposed to this idea anymore.

"that's it, y/n, cum for me." he finally called out your name, chasing his own high alongside. you felt him twitch around you.

jay silenced you with a kiss yet again as you creamed his cock, toes curling with pleasure as you hit your second orgasm.

jay pulled out, emptying himself all over your stomach. he sat down to regain his breathing as he dick grew soft again.

you realised that you won't be able to see massage in any other way anymore.

jay realised that he won't be able to treat you much as just a client anymore, yet he stood up, helping you back on the massage bed and cleaning you up.

"that was nice." you softly spoke.

"glad to be of your service, madam." jay joked around making you laugh.

he made sure to complete the massage, cleaning you up and mentally making a note to get your number from the receptionist computer. you stared at him the whole time he did his work, highly nervous because no one had made you feel this relaxed with sex before.

you knew you won't be able to stop yourself from coming back to luscious lather. afterall, you weren't sure if anyone else could top the satisfaction jay gave you.

"you can dress up again, someone will soon be here to escort you out. have a great day, madam." he said it all with a smile, seemingly professional as if he didn't fuck you 15 minutes back. you let out a small thank you and he winked before leaving you alone. the same guy with pretty moles came to escort you out, smiling and wishing you a good day.

you had to take a cab back home as your body felt like a puddle with all the stiffness and stress gone. you knew you had to go back, you had to meet him again.

maybe you had liked jay a little too much because, soon you found yourself booking an appointment again for the next week.

weekly massages didn't sound bad to you afterall.

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