#just poked around a little bit online and it looks like it's from the late 1800s.

[etakeh]

Hey so when you are a long time big mess, organizing and cleaning means that sometimes you find things that you forgot you had.

Sometimes that thing is a late 1800s saxophone.

And sometimes it's a bottle opener in the shape of a lightsaber hilt.

Both of these things are equally as useful to me.

Which is to say, not really at all.

[drchucktingle]

Hello Dr. Tingle! As you've made very clear, you write like crazy. Do you mind if I ask what your writing schedule looks like? I'm trying to bring your style of hard work into my NaNoWriMo project.

good question buckaroo i have very routine schedule (i think this kind of pattern could be part of my autistic way.) most days follow this exactly

WAKE UP AT 6AM

WORK OUT FOR TWO HOURS

first trot around the neighborhood then up the mountain this is about an hour and a half total hike (this is where i think about what art i am making for the day or listen to podcast or audiobook)

kettlebell for half hour

SHOWER AND POKE AROUND ONLINE FOR A BIT

this is just seeing what is happening on way of social media sayin hello to the world maybe having a nice bar for a snack

START WRITING USUALLY AT 9AM

first buckaroo writing session usually goes until 11 or 11:30

BREAK FOR LUNCH

usually trot out for lunch to get my brain sizzling

SECOND WRITING SESSION AT 1PM

this usually goes from 1PM until 4 or 5PM then i am done for the day. i write between 3000 and 4000 words every day, plus make a book cover or some other project like that

EVENING RELAX AT 5PM

spend time with sweet barbara. maybe go see a movie (i like movies a lot for little kernals of inspiration to get excited about art). sometimes go see my buds. maybe go trot for a dinner

late in evening probably take a dang bath every other night while reading magazines or graphic novels (chucks bath bomb budget really is out of control)

EVERY once in a while i will feel very inspired to prove love and write some more before bed

GO TO SLEEP AROUND 10:30PM AND START ALL OVER AGAIN

[hotpinkstars]

okay.. shh.. you didn't see me here but what if like.. picnic in a flower field with boothill (pre-cyborg likely) IDK.. i think it'd be so cute if you wanna write about it... he's always got me giggling just a little bit too much

PICNIC - boothill x reader

- a nice, warm picnic under the sun with boothill.

- I LOVE THIS JUST LIKE I LOVE BOOTHILL!!! he'd be so. so hubby material before he turned into a cyborg gn. anyways lemme cook yall i've got sm fics coming out over the span of the next couple days so keep sending in these reqs to keep me busy!!

- warnings none! wc 611

It was a late morning for the both of you, cuddled into your husbands strong arms, before you got the idea to have a nice picnic for brunch under the sun in a nice flower field that’s pretty nearby. 

“Psst, Boothill,” you poked at his chest, trying to wake him up. He groaned, rolling over, making the mistake of facing the open window, where the sun was stringing into the room. He squints his eyes and groans again, turning back around and opening his eyes.

“What time ‘s it?” He mumbles, reaching over to grab your phone off of your bedside table. The sun was too bright to grab his own, considering he’d have to face that torturous direction. It was 11:00 in the morning, and he rubbed his eyes before kissing you on the forehead. 

“Come on, and get dressed. I wanna go somewhere with you,” you hit his chest before sitting up and going into the closet to find an outfit for the day. He took the time to get used to the light, stretching before taking his turn in the closet while you packed a basket. 

“What’s all this?” He questions, pointing to the basket. 

“It’s a nice day out, so I figured we’d have a picnic. Why not?” 

He shrugs, a smirk evident on his face as he sifts through it to see what you’ve packed. 

“Is this place walkin’ distance?” He questioned, and you nodded, looking back to smile at him. 

“It’s only a ten minute walk. I can carry the basket if you want,” You started, picking up the basket and the blanket before having it snatched off your arm and taken into his. You thanked him with a kiss before setting off to your destination.

You both had a nice chat on your way there, and after trudging up a hill, you took the blanket from him and laid it down. You motioned for him to sit down before sitting down yourself and starting to unpack the basket to lay out the food. 

“Here’s for you…” you handed him a sandwich wrapped in napkins and some foil before taking out one of your own and resting your head on his shoulder, taking bites out of your food. “How does it taste?”

He took his first bite before nodding. “Good, as always. Yer’ cookin’ never fails.” 

To that you smiled and giggled a little bit before taking another bite and swigging it down with a can of sparkling water. “What's your schedule today?” 

He simply shrugs before speaking. “I dunno. Probably tendin’ to the animals n’ chillin’ inside. How about ya?”

You also shrugged. “Probably just running a couple errands today while you’re outside. Nothing super fancy.”

You both continued to talk about random things while you finished up eating. Either gossiping about your friends and what's new with them, telling him about some random encounters at the markets, and just talking about stuff you saw online. You spoke about the future, and, most importantly, basked in each other's presence. 

You both didn’t hurry to leave once you finished eating. You sat together, basking in the mid-spring sun, cuddling, and enjoying the other's warmth. 

“I feel so, so lucky to have ya’, babe,” he blurts out randomly, catching you slightly off-guard. You regained your composure before smiling.

“I feel the same. I love you so, so much, Boothill,” you wrapped your arms around his strong bicep, leaning into his side. 

“I love you too,” he rested his head on top of yours.

You both stayed like that for a little while, before walking back to the ranch and going about with your days together.

[tr1ppyladyfics]

"Flaunting for you"

Human quaritch x human reader

Summary: it was late at night and you went searching for "miles" so you went in the kitchen to get something to drink when what you were looking for found you

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Warnings: 18+, vulgar words, smut, degrading, spanking, fingering, hardcore, cream pie, no aftercare, daddy issues (if I missed any lmk)

Minors, please do not interact

I have no control over what you consume online. If you do engage, it's under your control

It was 2100 hours, and you walked around the base. Hoping to run into Colonel Quaritch to give him some shit, it was weird, but you had a thing for the older man even though you were only 21. You often fantasized about his arms and his voice and just his Stern attitude. You often dressed for him, always in shorts and a tank, he was your boss, but that wouldn’t stop you. So as you were walking around the base, you walked to the cafeteria to see if they left any drinks out. The restaurant was cold, and you weren’t wearing a bra, so of course, that left you nipped. As you walked up to the counter, you saw the fridge door was unlocked; you then opened the door looking around for something to drink. As you looked, you chewed the side of your cheek; you then grabbed a juice box. As you closed the door and turned around, you heard boots click into the cafeteria.  

You then poked the straw into the box and started to drink the juice; it was so lovely and cold you could feel it make its way to your stomach. As you were drinking the juice box, you saw quaritch walk in; you lowered the juice from your mouth as you admired the colonel, “Hey boss, looking for a midnight snack too….. fridges open”. 

“Don’t we have training at 0500 hours tomorrow? What are you doing up so late” the colonel said as he walked to the fridge, grabbing a beer. “ I don’t know, I could ask you the same thing too….. maybe I couldn’t sleep”, you say as you drink from your juice box. Quaritch then pops open the beer and leans against the counter as he takes a drink; as the bottle comes back down, he looks you up and down. “You know you shouldn’t dress like that; there could be creeps,” quaritch tells you as he motions toward you with his beer. “I was thirsty and didn’t feel like getting completely dressed, hand me one of those, please…sir”, she says with a bratty attitude. 

The colonel then rolls his eyes as he grabs her one. She holds it from the colonel, and she then pops off the cap. “ you know I can feel you staring at me,” she says as she takes a drink from the bottle. The colonel then laughs into the bottle as he takes a sip. “Don’t act like you haven’t been throwing yourself at me since we first met,” he says smugly. “I- I don’t know what you're talking about,” she says as her face burns red. Quaritch chuckles as he walks up to her placing his beer on the counter; he towers over her, “Hmm, really, I think you’d do anything I asked”. His finger lifted her chin; she could feel a pool flood her underwear. She was so bad for this man, and he knew this the whole time. “don’t think I don’t notice how you eye fuck me during training or briefing, or how you wear your little slutty clothes when you know I’m at the base.”

His knee parted my legs, his knee rubbing against my slit, waking up my clit. My breathing hitched at his movement, and my head fell as my face burned red. “Look at me,” he grabbed my face making me stare at him, his eyes flicking left to right as he stared into my eyes. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” he said as his knee rubbed against me, making my hips buck. “Y- yes,” my breathing was crazy, my heart felt like it would explode, my underwear was drenched, and I wanted him in me, but I was too shocked to say anything. “What was that princess,” he said as he tilted his head, his rough hand still holding my face. “Yes, sir,” I said, with a lump in my throat and a burning stomach. He then let go of my face as his hand rubbed my neck and chest. “It's a little bit cold in here, isn’t it” his hand fell past my chest to my shorts. His hand then runs underneath my shirt, and his rough hands scratch my body. As he reaches my Breasts, he kneads them, causing soft whimpers to escape my mouth. 

His hand then falls out, and my face then drops. “Hey, I was enjoying that; you can’t lead me on like that…" he turns me over. He holds me down with one hand. I can feel the cold countertop under my chest and stomach. My face is pressed up on the cold countertop. I then felt his feet kick apart my legs, he rubbed his hand over my clothed cunt, and my hips bucked towards him. I wanted more. "Look at that, such a needy fucking whore", he whispered in my ear as his back pressed against mine. I could feel his rock-hard bulge rub against my ass; as I enjoyed the warmth of his chest on my back, I felt his hand move over my trunks. As his digits explored my wet folds, "All this for me, you're so wet." His finger traced my tight hole that wouldn't stop weeping. 

Time stopped.

 You were so excited to be manhandled by him, your hot Rosy cheeks pressed against the cold countertop. You felt one of his digits push into you; you gasped at the pressure, not because it hurt but because you wanted this so bad. As his digit explored your tight hole, it made your legs shake. His finger pumped in and out of you fast; as he did this, you felt a burning in your lower stomach. His hand holding you down placed on the middle of your back, his finger pumped faster, the soft sound of clapping filled the kitchen air, his palm beating against your ass. Your hips bucked at the thrusts of his hand; he pulled his hand out, wiping the fluids off on your clothed ass. 

His hand lifted off your back, and as you tried to stand up, he quickly pushed you back down. “Be a good little lady and stay down for me, hmmm,” he said as you could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle. As you listened, your cunt throbbed, only dripping at the thought of him being inside you. He then slipped his hands down your pants before quickly dropping them; your underwear came off with a quick swoop. The cold air was stinging your ass and brushing against your burning hot core. 

SMACK

A whimper escaped your mouth, and your hand formed into a clenched fist.  “That’s what you get for dressing like the little whore you are”, quaritch said as he landed another smack on your ass. The area burned hot; more juices flowed down your legs. “Look at that. I got you all worked up over nothing but a few smacks and only using my hands,” Miles said as his hands massaged your plump ass. He then took out his cock and rubbed it against your wet folds, my god; he was way bigger than you even comprehend. His hand rested on your lower back as he pushed into you, and a quiet grunt escaped his mouth.  A loud whimper escaped your mouth my god; he was huge, like split you into two big. Not only his length but his girth; no wonder his ego was huge. 

With his left hand, he grabbed a fist full of your hair; your head then sprung back as he started to pump into you. Your juices mixed between him and you, as every time he thrust himself into you, it felt like he would tear right through your lower stomach. He grabbed your hip with his right hand and pumped himself in and out; with each thrust, you whimpered almost as if you two were in sync. His hand dug into your hip as his grunts turned to growls; he let go of your hair, letting your head fall as both hands were on your hips. At every thrust, your body bounced; he was pounding your walls hard. Your cervix was bruised, but you wanted him more; your moans filled the kitchen as your bodies fell into sync with his. 

His hands gripped your hips as he slammed himself into you, his breath was heavy, and his growls were loud. You pressed your forehead into the cold countertop placing your hands over your mouth so you weren't so loud. He noticed this, so he then grabbed your hands, using them as a grip, pulling them behind your back. His hands were tight around your wrists, as your back was arched, he whispered in your ear. "I wanna hear your cute little moans" he continued to use your hands as grips as he rammed into you. Your walls tighten around him as he was so rough with you that it only made you slicker. His hands were so tight around your wrist that you're sure they would bruise. As his movement slowed, your stomach burned in pleasure; it felt like your core was on fire. As he pumped himself in and out, you could feel his sack slap against your clit, giving you a sense of pleasure every once while and arousing your throbbing clit. 

You couldn't move because he used your wrists as grip holders as he stretched your tight hole. You wanted to please your throbbing clit so severely. It was craving touch; he then let go of your wrists. Your hands slammed on the counter as both your bodies were controlled by his thrusts, moving back and forth as if you were one.  His left hand then traveled up your tank top, kneading your left breast, squeezing your nipple at every chance. This made your walls so tight it was getting hard for quaritch to move in and out quickly. His left hand then crept before you, searching for your clit. As he reached it, his two rough digits started rubbing it in circles. Every time it hit a sensitive nerve, it made your whole body twitch, your moans get loud, and you were closing your end. Your walls were the tightest they have ever been; you've never been so stimulated so much before, and quaritch groaning in your ear didn't help. 

Quaritch then slipped his hand from underneath your shirt and Placed it on your mouth. His thrusts then became more separated; they were rougher as every 5 seconds, he'd slam himself into you. His breathing was heavy; it was burning the back of your ear. As every time trusted, you got closer to your end; his fingers were still rubbing at an average pace. Your moans would escape the tiny cracks of quaritchs hands. 

It felt like everything got brighter; your core burned hot as you painted Quaritchs cock with your cum. Your body shook, your legs were weak, your breath was heavy, it was fast and mixed with whimpers. Quaritch wasn't done, but he was close. You could feel his throbbing cock every time he thrust in you; his hand was still rubbing your clit. When his fingers passed over your clit, your body shook in overstimulation. As you shook at the overstimulation, Quaritch pushed one of his fingers in your mouth as he held you close. His thrusts became fast; his breath was hitched. He then pulled his finger out of your mouth before he pushed you down on the counter. His hands held you down as he filled you with his seed. There was so much you instantly felt it pour out of your tight hole. As he emptied himself into you, he pumped a few more thrusts into you before he collapsed on your back. His forehead pressed against your spine, and his breath was heavy. Both of you lay there as your breathing was in sync; he didn't pull out of you just yet. He just lay there and caught his breath. 

As you both calmed down, he pulled his soft cock out of your filled hole; as he did this action, he let out a smooth growl.  He then tucked himself away and buckled his pants. You then shakily stood up and pulled up your underwear and shorts. You were so wet from how he destroyed you and painted your insides white. You were going to be in deep shit tomorrow at training. 

(I did write this when I was tired so if there was any mistakes I apologize lmk if I should do a training fic )

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

Task at Hand

Panda’s Notes: Maybe I'm a little late, but I adored the movie, and, more importantly, I might have fallen for a fictional man. Hobie Brown stole my whole heart. >w< Consider this the first of three.

[Ao3] || [Ko-fi] || [Commissions]

“Oi, short man!”

Miles flinched at the sound of that voice. There was no way.

“Uh, Miles?” His mother called, sounding just a bit nervous.

He scrambled out of his bedroom to find his parents staring warily at a smug looking Spider-Punk leaning against their front door.

“Hobie?” He asked with a hint of panic in his voice as he approached him. “What are you doing here?”

Hobie snickered, patting Miles’ shoulder before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Was in the neighborhood, y’know? Thought we could grab grub or somethin’, just cause.”

“Miles…?” His dad stepped closer, resting a slightly firm hand on his shoulder. “Is this guy another friend of yours?”

“Um…” Miles stammered. “Well, yeah, I mean, he’s a friend, just—"

Hobie rolled his eyes with a little grin, standing up straight and offering a hand. “Aye, Hobie Brown, at ya service. Mr. and Mrs. Morales, yeah? Charmed, really. Heard a lot of good things.”

Jefferson accepted the handshake, eyes widening a little at how strong he was for being so thin. Rio was given a handshake as well, though much gentler.

“So, how’d you two meet anyway?” She asked, hands resting casually on her hips.

Miles stood awkwardly in front of Hobie, wringing his hands behind his back as he spoke. “Well, he’s sort of a pen pal, y’know. We mostly talk online; he’s not around much.”

“I’m a friend of Gwenny’s.” Hobie shrugged casually, pulling his guitar up slightly so they could see. “We jam once in a while, but yeah; I ain’t in town very often. Not from ‘round here, but you probably guessed.” He lunged slightly and wrapped his arm across Miles’ chest, resting his chin on his head and sneaking a poke on his ribs. “Little brother here is always on scene with us. Likes to keep us outta trouble, but he ain’t worth much on bass, I tell ya.”

Hobie laughed lightly, and Miles cringed as his mother chuckled. Jefferson still eyed them both, but he was smiling a bit and patted Miles’ arm lightly. The pair watched his parents expectantly, with Miles fidgeting the entire time.

“Alright, alright; go on.” Jefferson finally sighed with a wave of his hand, smirking slightly as he turned away.

“Don’t stay out too late; try to be back for dinner.” Rio insisted, smiling up at Hobie.

Miles finally relaxed, aiming a glare at Hobie before going to his room to grab his backpack.

----------------

“I cannot believe you!” Miles called as he chased Hobie across a few rooftops halfway across town.

“Can’t believe my amazing charisma, you mean, mate?” He called back. “You wouldn’t. You are complete shit at lying. Actual garbage, my guy.”

Miles groaned and rolled his eyes, shifting his bag on his shoulders. “Get back here! Aren’t you the one who wanted to get food? It’s going to get cold!”

Hobie stopped on one building, suddenly whirling around and catching Miles before he could land. He shushed him quietly, smirking as he pulled his mask from his pocket and put it on.

“Over here, bruv, come on.” He leaned over the side of the roof, glancing up and down the street. “I was casing this place earlier when I was headed your way. Spider-sense going somethin’ fierce. Windows are all blacked out; same color, definitely not curtains.”

Miles had pulled his own mask over his head, shrugging his bag off to lean beside him. “Are you telling me the Spider-Punk got me out of the house to work?” He giggled when Hobie elbowed his ribs, crawling up over the edge as the taller man practically shoved him.

“Oi, shut up already. Place skeeved me out, okay? Look for yourself if it seems sketchy. I’m not the one built for stealth, now am I?”

“Okay, okay…” Miles disappeared from view, crawling carefully across the side of the building. Sure enough, the windows did all appear to be completely blacked out. Maybe a mix of duct tape and spray paint? Too thick to see through either way. Great, the one time he feels like he doesn’t have enough powers. He pressed his ear to the window, blinking curiously at the sounds of some kind of machinery. This wasn’t a warehouse or anything; it just looked like a regular, if very old, apartment building.

Miles climbed back up to the roof, finding Hobie fishing French fries out of his backpack. He snickered as he approached him. “Those better not be mine.”

“Bags are the same color, mate; don’t know what ‘tell ya.” He said quickly, licking his fingers and putting the backpack on his shoulder. “What’d you get?”

“Some kind of machine noise? I couldn’t see what it was, but it seemed like a lot of them. Kinda sketchy, I guess. They wouldn’t black out the windows other—”

“Issa sweatshop.” Hobie suddenly spoke through a few more fries, striding quickly across the rooftop. “Betcha a fancy-ass milkshake on it, yeah?”

Miles jogged after him, watching as he stopped beside the building’s transformer. “A sweatshop? You think so?”

“Bet on it, didn’t I?” Hobie prodded around the large box curiously before ramming his elbow into the small service panel. “Look, worst hand: I’m right, crime’s on, and you owe me that milkshake. Plus, we disrupt some exploitative assholes making shitty clothes or whatever. Best hand—” He gripped the edge of the dented panel, ripping it clean off its hinges. “Well, some weirdo junkies won’t have television for a week, maybe. Fry it.”

Miles blinked at the sudden command, looking warily at the cables and lights. “And you think this isn’t going to get me fried?”

“Eh, you’ve done it before, basically.” Hobie shrugged, stepping out of his way. “Didn’t die then.”

Miles rolled his eyes, but he still hesitated a little. Electricity crackled between his fingers as he looked for places to slip them under the cables. He could feel his hands tingling as the electricity jumped between the transformer and his body.

“Nah, nah, nah; you’re holding back again.” Hobie said quickly. “They’ll notice some light flickering; remember what I told you.” He reached over Miles’ head, pressing his own hands over Miles’ to press his palms flat into the transformer.

“Whoa, wai—!” There was a blinding flash and a loud crack, and Miles spun around when he realized Hobie wasn’t pushing him anymore. His knuckles cracked as he flexed his fingers, scrambling over to where Spider-Punk was sprawled on the roof almost ten feet away.

“Hobie?!” He called in a panic, grabbing at his shoulder and shaking him a bit. He felt a few minor shocks jump up his arm, and Hobie coughed as he shifted around. Coughs turned into groans that quickly turned into excited laughter as he pushed himself to sit up.

“Haha! Hell, yeah, my guy; fucking aces!” He cackled, slapping Miles’ chest with the back of his hand and wincing immediately. “Ack, shit, that hurt… Fuck, that was awesome!”

Miles stared at him in disbelief, only able to imagine the look on Hobie’s face. He cringed a little as his Spider-Sense went off, and he realized he could hear boots stomping up a staircase.

“Let’s book, mate, come on!” Hobie was halfway across the roof already, though he almost stumbled on the jump to the next building. Miles stuck close to him as they ran this time.

----------------

“You were worried about this being cold, man?” Hobie chuckled between bites of his sandwich. “You’re too much sometimes, aren’t ya?”

They had returned to Miles’ building, and they’d finally gotten the chance to sit down on a pair of chairs that had been forgotten from the party weeks back.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Hobie?” Miles asked warily, leaning slightly to gently kick his leg. “You were out for a little bit.”

“Nah, I wasn’t.” He said shortly. “Hurt like a bitch, but it didn’t put me out. Trust me, I been hit with worse without the mask on. The healing thing helps out though, gotta admit.”

“Healing thing?”

Hobie snorted, pulling a soda can out of his lunch bag as he looked over at him. “You been a Spider how long, and you never noticed the healing thing, brother? Thinkin’ you just fall off of buildings and live based on goof physics, are ya?”

Miles chuckled and shook his head, rolling his hand as he crossed his legs on the chair. “Yeah, okay; get it all out.”

Hobie chuckled and smirked, shrugging his shoulders as he popped the soda tab with one finger. “Nah, I’m done. What I want to hear about is why you’re still holding yourself back on the electricity thing.”

Miles huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t just go around electrocuting everyone all the time!”

“Yeah, ‘cuz you’re soft.” Hobie reached to slap lightly at Miles’ shoulder and ruffle his hair with one hand, grinning as he swatted him away. “Though, I guess you would be a bit young to get a body count on you.”

Miles hesitated as he judged the weight of what Hobie was saying. And not saying. He stared at his hand for a moment as he set his straw against his lips, his nerves prickling a little as sparks jumped between his fingers.

“Y’know what? You have a point; I admit it.” He finally sighed.

“I’m always right, man; you’ll catch on eventually.” Hobie snorted when a napkin was thrown at his head.

“My skill isn’t in my power output.” Miles shrugged and flexed his hand. “It’s in my control.” He punctuated the statement by jabbing two fingers into Hobie’s side while he was looking away, the smallest amount of electricity he could manage zipping through them.

Hobie flinched hard, his hand clenching sharply enough to crush the top of the soda can and a choked noise jumping out of his mouth.

Miles paused, a smile spreading across his face as he fidgeted with his fingers.

Hobie glared at him, his eyes betrayed by the smirk on his lips, and he shook the soda off of his hand after setting the can down. “Do that again, and I break your arm.”

“Okay, but I can do it again though?”

“If you want a broken ar—Ack! Miles!” His voice was cracked to pieces by barely stifled giggles.

Miles had pressed another little shock to Hobie’s side, spreading his fingers and starting to wiggle them quickly. “You’re ticklish! Oh, my god; you’re, like, really ticklish.” He slipped around Hobie’s chair, digging scribbling fingers across his stomach and up his sides.

Hobie wrapped his arms tight around his waist, laughing loudly and writhing under each little poke. He nearly flinched out of his chair at another zap, hiding his face in one hand as the other shoved at Miles’ shoulder.

“I really can’t believe you.” Miles giggled, finally letting Hobie push him away and leaning into his outstretched arm. “‘Spider-Punk’ and ‘ticklish’ just don’t really go together, y’know?”

Said Spider-Punk panted quietly, and his hand got a tight grip on Miles’ jacket. “‘S pretty rude to go off stereotyping people, innit, man?” He asked calmly, slowly getting out of his chair and yanking Miles by his coat to follow him. Miles stammered nervously, and Hobie smirked a bit before shooting a bit of web onto the underside of the water silo’s roof and pulling both of them up.

Hobie landed his free hand against the side of the water tank, pressing his boots alongside it to sit in a sideways crouch. Finally, he sneered at Miles, still holding him at arm’s length in open air. “Think this is high enough, little brother?”

“W-Wait, what?” Miles’ face was torn between laughing and panicking. “Hobie, you can’t be serious; I was just messing with you!”

“Nah, you’re right; I’d have to chuck ya off the roof, at least.” He jerked his arm as if he was going to drop him, but his fingers tightened their grip on his coat.

“Hobie!” Miles laughed as he grabbed Hobie’s arm.

“Miles?!”

Both of them froze, eyes shifting to the roof access door where Rio had suddenly appeared. Hobie’s grip loosened, and Miles crawled up Hobie’s arm and shoulder, sort of perching on his back as they both stared at her.

“Ey, boss.” Hobie called casually, saluting politely with two fingers.

“Hi, mami…” Miles called a bit sheepishly, and she rested her palm over her face.

Miles cringed nervously, but not nervously enough to resist sneaking a poke under Hobie’s arm. The soul-withering glare Hobie gave him seemed to make him feel better.

“If you’re out thinkin’ I won’t kill a man in front of his mother, you’re off it.” He growled with a smirk. He took a few steps down, lowering Miles to the roof by his hands before dropping down himself. They approached Rio, one much more nervous than the other, and she just sighed as she looked at them. She smiled, the kind of smile a mother would definitely wear when her kids were doing something adorably stupid, and she reached out to hug Miles close.

Hobie rested his hands in his pockets, chuckling as he stepped back. “Yeah, on that one, I should probably head on.” He sighed dramatically, spinning around and walking toward the other side of the roof. “Got a few little brothers to toss off roofs and all.”

He shot a pair of webs to snatch his guitar and the remains of his food bag from where he’d left them, stepping up onto the edge and poking at his watch. “Nice meeting you, ma’am!” He waved as he jumped down; there was a clatter from the fire escape before silence.

Rio hummed and ruffled Miles’ hair. “You do seem to take to the wild ones, don’t you?”

Miles rolled his eyes a little while she wasn’t looking. “You’re not wrong, I guess. Sorry, if we scared you, I mean. Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to say I’m proud of you.” She was tapping her phone, and when he saw the screen, he couldn’t help grinning. It was a clip from the news; apparently, he owed Hobie a fancy milkshake next time they met.

[nekropsii]

on the topic of Hussie's racism translating into the comic itself: the origin of lil Cal's name came from a racist comic Hussie made in his TeamSpecialOlympics line It's titled "Rollin with lil Cal" and depicts a black character adopted by a white dad that just goes "Shit! I be 29 years old mutha-fucka!" he either re-used this character itself throughout these comics or was just lazy, but what appears to be the same og lil Cal was in his comic "Underground Funk Railroad", which ended with "Slaves Recaptured: funky swagger to blame" as well as mocking systematic racism and segregation with the racial slur negro (which, historically by white people in that time frame, was pronounced similar to the well-known n word [re-stating out of habit to keep clarification of why it's bad/an actual slur])

From my research, "Lil' Cal" as a name actually seems to extend a little farther back than that. Looks like the origin of Lil' Cal as a character- or at least as a name belonging to a Black character- dates back to around 2005-2006, with the creator being Andrew Hussie's brother, Byron Hussie, also known as Byrobot. You'll see that username a lot when poking around archives of Team Special Olympics comics. I give the estimate of 2005 or so, because Byrobot's Lil' Cal strips predate Hussie's, and not only was Hussie's edition of "Rollin' Wit Lil' Cal" posted in (late-ish) 2006, but Byrobot closed his website in around early 2006, which is where that strip was originally hosted. Plus, I've seen a couple anecdotes that it was around 2005 when that first started being a thing... Either way, though.

Unsurprisingly, Lil' Cal wasn't exactly illustrated with much... Class. Here's Byrobot's first Lil' Cal strip. This is the first iteration of Lil' Cal ever posted online.

Yikes. Yikes on bikes.

To fortify your points, though, I'll post the strips you're talking about here.

Here's Hussie's "Rollin' Wit Lil' Cal", which depicts exactly what you said. This was posted on 08/01/06, as a part of the "Scribblettes" series on the Team Special Olympics website.

And here's Hussie's "Underground Funk Railroad", once again depicting exactly what you said. This was posted on 11/02/06, but is the same story otherwise.

I understand the anxious urge to do it, but I don't think most people really need an explanation as to why any variant of the N-Word is bad. Though, since you brought it up...

Have this. 12/20/06. I needed to curse someone else with it. Same story again, this is still a part of the Scribblettes series.

Regarding the speculation on whether the reusage of Lil' Cal was an act of laziness or not: TSO's Scribblettes have many recurring characters and recurring bits, Lil' Cal just happens to be one of them. Now, applying that same train of thought to Lil Cal's appearance in Homestuck... Homestuck is chock full of references, both to random things/media, and to Hussie's older works- like Problem Sleuth, Humanimals, And It Don't Stop, et cetera. Lil Cal, the puppet, was named the way he was as another throwback for longtime fans. Lil' Cal, the TSO character, was reused during the runtime of Scribblettes just for fun.

I have nothing profound to say about any of this. This guy sucks, lol.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ Ticklish Twins ~

HIII! SORRY FOR THE DELAY YOU GUYS! I HAD TO CATCH UP ON SOME LATE ASSIGNMENTS- BUT IT’S ALL GOOD NOW!

Ler’s: Donnie🐢💜, Leo🐢💙

Lee’s: Donnie🐢💜, Leo🐢💙

Warnings: None :) 

Summary: Ever since Leo and Donnie were little, they always argued over who was the older twin, which caused lots of fights throughout the years. But now Leo, being the smartest of the two (obviously), has a solution on how they could settle this once and for all…

——————————————————————————————————

“Nardo! Give me back my book!” 

“Oh what? You mean this book?” Leo grinned, examining the book he “stole” from Donnie, who was desperately trying to get it back. It was around evening and the two twins were sitting on the couch in the living room, earlier making a deal with each other that they wouldn’t bother one another unless it was important. Which Leo definitely did not keep. But what did Donnie expect? 

The two were wearing they’re signature sweatshirts, Donnie’s purple while Leo’s was blue. Now, originally, Donnie was going to get back into reading more advanced books, after the Invasion, lots of places were closed including the library. And if you knew Donatello you knew that he absolutely despised novels online. Sure, it makes the book you’re looking for easier to find, but it eliminates the whole purpose of getting a book itself, like actually in your hands. 

So now with stores finally opening up again, Donnie was able to purchase a book! But he didn’t even make it through the first chapter- let alone the first page as Leo swiped it from his hands. 

“Oh, come on, little bro. I was just poking fun!” Leo smiled, giving Donnie back his book that the softshell snatched out of his hands, glaring. Leo relaxed on the couch and pulled out his phone from his pocket; starting to watch YouTube videos on it. “I’m older than you, dipsit.” Donnie said, putting his book to the side and straightening his posture, which he only did when he was going to go really in depth with something…eugh boy.

“Pfft- since when?” Leo asked before Donnie could go into a 39 hour rant on how much he was right and how much Leo was wrong (he’s speaking from experience). “Since always! Were you not listening to Draxum’s 3 hour long summary on how he found us?” Donnie asked. Leo rolled his eyes, putting his phone on the arm of the couch. “Nope!” Leo said, making an exaggerated pop noise at the end of it. 

“Wait! I have an idea!” Leo beamed, clapping his hands together and turning to Donnie completely. “You…have an idea?” Donnie repeated, examining the person in front of him to make sure his twin didn’t get abducted by some aliens or something like that. Because when Leo has ideas, which is rare, they never turn out good- like…ever. 

Donnie sighed, pinching the space between his eyes and nose before looking back up at Leo, face. “Enlighten me, brother.” Leo grinned, tightening his mask on his head, while turning to Donnie fully. 

“Let’s compete! We’ll have a tickle fight on it. Winner is the older twin.” Leo smiled, grinning at the absolute genius idea and grinned only wider as he saw the evident nervousness on his soon-to-be-already-is-younger brothers’ face.

“I am not doing that.” Donnie said, crossing his arms; trying his absolute best not to sound nervous as he did so. Leo’s grin only widened at the softshell’s response, slowly inching closer to Donnie wiggling his fingers. “Aw~! But why? Is it because you're too ticklish for it? Is that it, Dee?” He teased, poking Donnie’s sides causing his purple-loving twin to squirm in his seat. “Is the Great Donatello Von Ryan too ticklish for this~?” Leo said, chuckling when he saw his brother’s cheeks flush a bit. 

“Oho gi- gihive me a break. Everyone knohows that you're the mohohost ticklish out of all of us.” Donnie said, wanting to punch himself in the face for laughing at Leo’s wiggling fingers. Speaking of Leo’s fingers, they were scaringly inching closer and closer to his sides…

“Well you’re gonna have to prove me wrong on that one, Tello!” Leo laughed, practically launching himself onto Donnie as he scattered and scratched along his sides. The softshell put both his hands over his mouth, determined to not laugh at. all. Because, has this tactic worked? Covering his mouth so he doesn’t erupt into laughter? No. No, it hasn’t. But oh well- Donnie was desperate and desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Oho my gOHOD stAhAh- PFFT- STAHA! GeHet OOHOFF!” Donnie cackled, his laughter sounding muffled against his hand as he kicked his feet. “Nope! None of that, you know better, Tickle-Tello!” Leo teased, removing Donnie’s hands from over his mouth as he kneaded his upper thighs.  

“NAHAHA! LEEHEEHEEO! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHERE!” Donnie squealed, hugging his middles and trying to squirm away from his sibling, Leo absolutely beamed at the reaction. “No can do, Don! Just admit it! I’m the older twin!” Leo grinned, now doing a whole spider maneuver with his fingers on Donnie’s neck, which caused his purple loving sibling to crunch up his shoulders and do a high pitched squeal, almost like a 6 year-old girl, or worse…Mikey. 

The sound startled Leo- who drawed his hands back and after a couple seconds descended into small snickers. “Woah, I’ve never heard that noise before~!” Leo laughed, going back to gently tickling Donnie’s neck where he squealed; gleeful at the reaction he just received and wanted more. 

“SHUHUT IHIT. YOHOU HEHEHEARD NOHOHOTHING!” Donnie yelled, pushing at Leo’s arms but the red eared slider did not budge even an inch. Leo went to the extra ticklish spot on Donnie’s neck earning another high pitched squeal from his scientist brother. “Oho, really? That cute little shriek of yours doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’ to me, Don-Don~!” Leo smiled, not only because he was 100% sure he’s got this in the barn but he was also smiling because he was spending some quality tickle time with his favorite twin (his only twin- but still), win-win!

“Just say I’m the older twin and I’ll stop, Tello~!” Leo said, now gently tracing the sides of Donnie’s shell. And if you weren’t in the room at this exact moment, you probably would have thought the soft shell got stabbed- or even killed! Donnie absolutely screamed as Leo started poking and prodding his sensitive softshell. Leo really wanted this “Older Twin” title huh? Going for his shell?! Oh this man is playing straight up fucking dirty. 

“NOHOHO! NOHO *hic* NAHAT THEHE SHEHELL! LEEHEEHEEO PLEHEHEASE!” Donnie cried, trying to kick Leo off of him but the blue banded turtle stayed on Donnie’s waist, making sure the two didn’t fall off of the couch but also making sure to tickle the absolute hell out of Donnie so he can claim the Older Twin title. 

“Awh! There’s a little design of your shell that has a heart! That’s so cute! You don’t mind me taking a closer look at it, do you?” Leo smiled, not even waiting for Donnie to answer as he traced over the heart design on Donnie, as the softshell descended into more squeaky cackles. “NAHAHA! NAHARDO *hic* DOHOHON’T! IHIT’S SOHO *hic* BAHAD THEHERE!” Donnie cried, still trying to squirm away. Now Donnie is really really starting to regret leaving his battle-shell in his room.  

“You’re not even fully fighting back like you normally do, Don. You must reaaaaally like this, huh?” Leo teased, going back to poking different parts of the side of Donnie’s shell. Donnie didn’t respond but just wheezed with laughter as he twisted and turned trying to get Leo off of him. 

“MIHIHICHAEL! RAHAPH! REEHEEHEE! HEHEHEHEHELP!” Donnie yelled, trying to be as loud as he could to get saved or something. Which… probably won’t happen because it’s just him and Leo in the lair as of right now. The others were running errands around the city. Worth a shot…

“Uh uh! This is a fight between you and me, mi hermano~!” Leo smiled, blowing a raspberry on the softshell turtles’ neck while still tickling the sides of his shell. Donnie gasped at the new sudden unexpected sensation at his neck, his laughter starting to sound hiccupy.  Donnie pushed on Leo’s plastron trying to break free from his grasp.

“NAHAHAH! NAHA- *hic* NAHARDO!” Donnie squealed. “Dooonnniiieeee~” Leo teased, mimicking his twins cry, sitting up but now hovering his hands over Donnie’s stomach, wiggling his fingers. 

“Hmm…I feel like TummyTello is feeling a tad bit left out from all this tickling, don’t you?” Leo asked, not to Donnie in particular though, the softshell knew he didn’t really have a say in this matter anymore. But Donnie couldn’t take anymore and completely PANICKED.  

Donnie suddenly kicked Leo in the foot, causing both of the twins to fall off of the couch, but Donnie, being quick on his feet, was able to take the upper hand as he went on top of Leo. He pinned Leo’s arms above his head as he straddled his waist, the slider squirmed under Donnie, not liking how quickly the tables had turned.

“Ahahany lahast words, Nardo?” Donnie smiled, still giggling from the attack from Leo but happy he was able to get the upper hand as of right now. And seeing how quickly his brothers’ cockiness and smugness faded made Donnie feel even more victorious. 

Donnie didn’t waste any time and immediately started kneading Leo’s knees, a well-known death spot for him. Donnie smiled as the slider threw his head back letting out squeaky cackles, snorting every now and again as his legs stomped on the floor. “DEEHEEHEE! NOHO WAHAHAIT! PLEHEHEASE *snort* IHIT TIHIHICKLES!” 

“Ohmigosh…really? I didn’t notice.” Donnie said sarcastically, suddenly stopping to give his brother a breather. Leo groaned throughout his laughs, glaring at his twin who just smiled innocently at him. “So~! Ready to admit the inevitable?”

Leo narrowed his eyes at his twin, oh he thinks he’s so smart. Well Leo’s not giving up that easily. “I already did! I’m older than you, remember?” Leo grinned as Donnie only chuckled, not saying anything. 

Donnie started scribbling his fingers on Leo's side, causing the slider to giggle a bit and lightly kick his feet. “Ahare yohou even trying to tickle me?” Leo asked, knowing that was probably the wrong thing to ask and couldn't help himself. Donnie sighed, now scribbling his fingers in Leo’s belly. “Oh Nardo, Nardo, Nardo…my dearest and dumb twin…” 

“I know something you don’t and the position you're in right now makes that extremely unfortunate for you.” Donnie smiled as if he wasn’t being absolutely evil. Leo swears- Donnie is scary just being himself but once your at the mercy of his tickly hands he’s terrifying. “Whahahat ahare yohou tahalking about…?” Leo asked. But as soon as he did Donnie started nibbling his stomach, making hilarious noises that had Leo in stitches. 

“AHAHA *snort* AHAHAHA WAHAHAIT!” Leo screamed, because if anything, Leo thought Donnie was going to abuse his knees again- not start nibbling at his stomach. He wasn’t prepared for this whole new ticklish sensation on his belly! This was completely unbearable…and the little “nom-ing” noises Donnie was making did not help. Guess Donnie took notes on where Leo was ticklish and how to tickle him there.

Or he just asked Raph, since he gives ticklish nibbles to him all of the time. 

“TEHEHELLOHOHO! NAHAHAT *snort* THOHOSE!” Leo cried, he tried to kick Donnie off of him which only caused the softshell turtle to nibble at his tummy more softly. Obviously causing his brothers' laughter to increase. “Donnie said no, no, no~” Donnie playfully said, holding Leo’s arms up higher and holding on tighter, laughing as Leo’s laughter increased in volume. 

“Oh, I bet that tickles, doesn’t it Lee?” Donnie chuckled, and only laughed harder when he saw Leo shake his head and stomped his feet on the floor. Leo couldn’t take it anymore. 

It tickled too much. Leo can’t even defend himself, which automatically makes this extremely unfair! So much for being the older twin, I guess…

“OKAHAHAY! OKAHAY! *snort* YOHOHU’RE OHOHOLDER! *snort*  YOHOU’RE OHOHOLDER!!!” Leo screamed. Oh dear pizza supreme in the sky, he was never gonna live this down. But to be fair, admitting being the younger twin is WAY better than dying by Donnie’s tickling hands, that’s for sure…even if Leo’s pride would be a tiny bit damaged after this.

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t quite hear you…” Donnie smiled, still nibbling at Leo’s stomach; which some might call mean- or even evil considering the slider already practically screamed bloody murder about freaking FINALLY admitting Donnie was older than him. But the scientist needs to make sure his little ticklish brother understands 

“YOHOU’RE THEHE *snort* OHOHOLDER TWIHIHIN!”

“Nardo, you’re gonna have to speak up~! I can’t hear you.”

“DOHOHONNIE *snort* IHI SWEHEHEAR!” 

“Alright, alright! No need to scream!” Donnie chuckled, getting off of Leo and crossing his arms triumphantly. Leo glared at him, puffing his cheeks out, pouting. “That was so unfair…” Leo whined, sitting up and sitting next to Donnie on the floor. Donnie looked at Leo and chuckled, raising his left eyebrow in amusement. “You’re the one that wanted it to be a tickle fight, idiot.” 

“Yeah! I know that! But I thought I would win!” Leo whined more loudly, slumping his entire body on Donnie’s lap. Donnie only chuckled, pulling Leo in closer, hugging them. “It’s not my fault you're a walking tickle spot.” Donnie argued.

Leo got up from his lap and crossed his arms, copying Donnie. “I am SO not! YOU PINNED MY ARMS UP! I COULDN’T DEFEND MYSELF!” Leo yelled which only caused the older of the two to snicker at the complaint. “Sounds like a walking tickle spot to me, still…” Leo rolled his eyes, sitting next to Donnie and resting his head on his shoulder as the two held hands, enjoying each other's company. 

“You…do know that if you won I’d still be older, right?” Donnie said, looking back to Leo who only wetly chuckled. “Pfft- I know that, Dee…” The slider said, because it was true, Donnie was older than Leo- by a month. After Draxum got accepted into the family, he had told them the WHOLE story on how he got them, including they’re exact ages. 

“But it’s just that…” 

“It’s just what?” 

“I just…missed this…messing around with you and stuff. After the Invasion, it hasn’t been the same, y’know?” Leo said, rubbing his fingers together trying to figure out the right words to say. “And I dunno, this might sound stupid but these moments with you are really fun…”

Donnie looked at Leo before smiling softly, giving him a hug and resting his chin on the top of Leo’s head as he melted into the embrace. “As it is true, you and I will not live on this Earth forever…knowing that, it is important to enjoy our time here while it lasts. And I’d not have anyone else other than you and our family and close friends spending that time with.” Donnie smiled, now both of them hugging each other and enjoying one another’s company.

——————————————————————————————————

THE DISASTER TWINS!!!

THE MIDNIGHT DUO!!!

THEY HAVE MY HEARRRRT I LOVE THEM 💜💙

Also, yes I’m an Older Donnie Twin Truther fight me 🤪😤 /j /lh

[gamersonthego]

GOTG Review: Hypnospace Outlaw

This is the next game in my Backlog Roulette series, where each month I spin a wheel to randomly select a game on my massive backlog that I must play (though not necessarily to completion). These wheel spins occur on the monthly preview episodes I co-host with my friends on The Casual Hour podcast.

Both of my parents were educators at my elementary school (they're retired now.) Mom was a 3rd grade teacher and Dad taught gym. They both would stay after classes were over to work on lesson plans or grade papers or move equipment, and I got to freely choose which one to spend time with before we got to go home. With Dad, I would mostly practice free throws in the gym (though I never got any good at them). But with Mom, I’d often get to play on her computer (when I wasn’t watching Digimon Adventure on her classroom TV.

That was probably my first real experience with computers. I’d play things like Oregon Trail II (the best one, by the way) or an awful typing program called PAWS featuring a freaky Cheshire-Cat-like mascot. But sometimes, I would load up Netscape Navigator and just poke around on the late ‘90s internet. 

I hated this cat so much as a kid.

I only remember bits and pieces of that time online. A Sokoban block-pushing puzzler, a Super Mario Bros. fan game with all-new levels, some first-person hovercraft racer that had multiplayer LAN capabilities (I’ve never been able to find that game since, it’s definitely not Hover! by Microsoft.) a fansite for the Sonic Underground cartoon. Even with my fragmented memory, I remember the joy and adventure I had just digging around. Anything could be around that next corner, and that was half the fun.

Hypnospace Outlaw is the closest I’ve ever come to reliving those formative computer experiences. Set in an alternate 1999, you are thrust into Hypnospace — an internet stand-in that’s part GeoCities and part forum chatroom — and are asked to moderate and police this online Wild West. 

Developer Tendershoot has nailed the tone and aesthetic of this era. The highly compressed bitmap images, the way pages auto-play (incredible) music when they load, the terrible, terrible fonts, the fileshare servers that are completely inscrutable unless you know exactly what you’re looking for — it’s all just perfect. And it’s not just Hypnospace. The game has its own little desktop computer experience complete with email, virtual pets, a download manager and more. It reminds me of Cibele or Her Story, but much more freeform and robust. But all that is just aesthetic —  the game itself is pretty cool too. As a Hypnospace moderator, you’re given little jobs as you explore the various pages and zones of the browser: Take down some copyrighted material here, censor some threatening speech there, find some lost files that are hanging around…somewhere. Some of these tasks just require you to pay close attention to the pages themselves, while others force you to put on your hacker cap as you cross reference ID codes with unlisted pages, crack passwords or decrypt files, all while a corporate conspiracy bubbles up around you. 

It’s truly satisfying to use your online sleuthing skills to their fullest. And whether you’re stopping a virus from breaking the virtual world or just banning a kid who can’t seem to stop making offensive webcomics, you just feel this sense of power.

In many ways, Hypnospace Outlaw the platonic ideal of the concept of late-90s computing. I do wonder if that hyper-specific aesthetic and mechanics gives it too narrow of an audience, but as someone who is part of that narrow audience, I found my experience with it to be incredibly fun. And it’s one I won’t soon forget.

[booksandchainmail]

Pale Arc 4

It feels like each arc has ended with major new information about the Carmine Beast. I'm curious as to how long this mystery will stretch: we had a couple arcs focused on the Choir and now are focused on the school, with the investigation getting some focus and new clues throughout. If the CB mystery keeps being on the backburner, I could see it lasting a long time.

I think I got most of my theorizing out in the past couple chapters, not much to add there. I will note that Miss has been emotionally benefiting from her absence, at least for me: basically every time people talk about her or we get flashbacks, I'm happy to see her and miss when she was around more, which makes me less suspicious of her for no reason. Doing my best to keep an eye on how that's affecting me.

I'm looking forward to dealing with the Aware being sent to Kennet: macguffin-finder, singer, and alt-right conspiracy theorist is an... interesting team. Curious to see what the Gilded Lily will turn up in Kennet. That could actually be a really good way to track down any spare bits from the Carmine Beast.

Also curious to see how the Others react: the trio went off to learn from practitioners and immediately there are practitioners investigating town, which was one of the main concerns about them. They haven't been gone long, but I wonder if they'll also be treated differently now that they've started to learn from other practitioners?

some thoughts on liveblogging below the cut:

I've found that the easiest way for me to do these is to react as I go along, quoting bits and commenting on them. If I wait until the end, I get stalled out. This arc in particular gave me the issue where I read a chapter late at night, and just left sketchy notes next to excerpts, and then reconstructing that post the next day was difficult. In general, writing a post takes more executive function than reading, so I need to not make writing a thing I have to do before reading more. Also can't rely too much on going back and filling in more detail, because I never want to go back.

Another weird note about liveblogging: there's very little opportunity for fandom influence. Because I'm not just avoiding spoilers from chapters further ahead, I have the entire thing blacklisted, so I have no idea what other people were thinking when reading Arc 4. On the one hand this is a pretty standard experience when reading a book or completed work for me. On the other, before I post something about a work, I've generally a) completed it and b) poked around online to get a sense of other people's opinions. Feels strange to be putting my opinions up based on incomplete information, with no idea of how events are commonly interpreted. I think this mostly makes me hesitant to commit to theories, rather than listing out a bunch of possibilities?

[fictionalgainer]

Nate's glasses part I

In my little slice of heaven, an apartment decked out with the latest tech and a collection of history books that could rival a small library, I’m more than just Nate. Here, I’m a digital warrior, a historian, and a king in my own right. But even kings have their curiosities, and mine revolve around a daily mystery at the office.

Take Kevin and Luke, for instance. Every day, they show up in those oversized hoodies, like a uniform. It’s got me thinking – are they hiding a love for late-night snacks and lazy Sundays, just like me? But who am I to talk? I'm not exactly the model of fitness here, though I'd like to think I carry my 'extra comfort' well. Well, that's what I tell myself, anyway.

One day, I muster the courage to poke around a bit. I sidle up to Kevin's desk, leaning against it with my best attempt at casual. "Hey, Kevin," I start, "you ever dive into cooking? I'm thinking of trying some new recipes, you know, to mix things up. Maybe something healthy but tasty?"

Kevin looks up, a little surprised. "Cooking? Can't say I do, Nate. My culinary skills stop at microwaving popcorn. But hey, if you find something good, let me know. I could do with a change from takeout."

As I walk away, I can't help but wonder if I'm just seeing what I want to see. 'Maybe he's just not into cooking,' I think to myself. 'Doesn't mean anything more than that, right?'

Next on my detective trail is Luke. I find him by the printers, stacking papers. "Hey, Luke," I say, a bit too enthusiastically. "You into any sports? I'm thinking of getting more active, you know, trying to live that healthy lifestyle."

Luke gives me a curious look. "Sports? Not really my thing, Nate. I'm more of a book and coffee kind of guy. But good for you, man. It's important to stay healthy."

His response leaves me none the wiser about the hoodie mystery. 'Maybe they're just comfortable wearing them,' I ponder, feeling a bit silly for my overthinking.

Back in my apartment, my gaming haven, I dive into my online adventures. But as I play, I can't help but reflect on my own choices. 'Am I projecting my insecurities onto Kevin and Luke?' I wonder, my character pausing mid-battle. 'Maybe I'm the one who's uncomfortable with what's under the hoodie.'

The night moves on, filled with virtual victories and defeats. As I shut down my computer, the enigma of Kevin and Luke's choice of attire still plays on my mind. It's a harmless curiosity, but it also mirrors my own uncertainties. 'Who am I beneath my own hoodie?' I ask myself, half-jokingly.

As the sun rises on another day, I find myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. There I am, 22 years old, and well, let's just say I'm carrying a bit more than the average guy. About 95 kilos of 'a bit more,' to be precise. I tug on my baggiest hoodie, the one I convinced myself hid my pudge. But let's face it, the shape of my belly is becoming a more prominent part of my silhouette, no matter how much I try to suck it in. 'Maybe it's time for a new wardrobe,' I think, but quickly shove that thought to the back of my mind.

My curiosity about Kevin and Luke hasn't waned. If anything, it's grown. Could they be 'skinny fat'? You know, the type who looks thin but isn’t exactly in shape? As I get ready for work, I devise a new plan to uncover more clues. 'Today, Nate, you'll be a master of subtlety,' I tell myself, practicing a nonchalant expression in the mirror. 'Just two colleagues, chatting about regular stuff.'

At the office, I bide my time until the perfect moment. During lunch, I see Kevin in the break room, opting for a salad over the usual sandwich. 'Interesting choice,' I note to myself. Casually, I approach him. "Hey, Kevin, going for the healthy option today? Trying to stay in shape, huh?"

Kevin looks up, a forkful of lettuce poised mid-air. "Oh, hey, Nate. Yeah, just trying to mix things up a bit. You know how it is."

I nod, a little too eagerly. "Yeah, totally. I've been thinking of doing the same. Maybe we could hit the gym together sometime?" I ask, my heart racing a bit at my boldness.

Kevin chuckles, shaking his head. "Nate, I wouldn't last five minutes in a gym. This salad is about as athletic as I get."

'So, he's not a gym buff,' I conclude, but that doesn’t really clear up my original question.

Next, I spot Luke by the water cooler, his hoodie as ever-present as his quiet demeanor. I stride over, determined but casual. "Hey, Luke, you ever do home workouts? I read somewhere that they're pretty effective."

Luke takes a sip of water, then turns to me. "Home workouts? Nah, not really my thing. I prefer a good walk, maybe a light jog now and then. Why, you looking for tips?"

"Just curious," I reply, my mind racing. 'A light jogger, huh? That could mean anything.'

As the day winds down, I'm no closer to solving the hoodie mystery than I was before. But it's got me thinking about my own situation. Maybe I've been in denial about my own physique. Sure, I can try to suck in my belly, but who am I fooling? As I pack up my things, I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass door. 'Still bulky, Nate,' I admit silently.

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[nymphbnny]

his mistress I

MINORS DNI // +18

genre: nsfw

pairings: eren jaeger x female reader

tags/warnings: cheating, affair, public sex, oral receiving (female), teasing, chocking, biting, unprotected sex, dilf!eren, fingering, daddy kink, wc 2.5k.

synopsis: you have known emma since you started working in the same office and let's just say that you haven't really had the best friendship with her. however, you weren't the only one irked by her. infidelity wasn't your go-to, but regarding her husband's growing annoyance for her and attraction to you, you decided that a little payback wouldn't really hurt anyone.

a.n: fuck cheating but lord toxic eren is hot as fuck.

part I - part II

"oh my god look at this beautiful onesie!" your so-called friend emma awed next to you, holding out her phone to show you the baby clothing. emma's daughter was turning two in a few months and she was already picking out outfits to get her for her birthday. you were currently at her house, waiting for her husband to get ready so you could all go to the mall.

"yeah, really pretty," you mumbled out, poking gabi's cheek as she gushed. she looked adorable. just like her father. it was very unorthodox of you to be fucking her husband, but then again your moral compass was not considering her feelings at all so you simply didn't give a fuck. neither did he.

you glanced over at emma again, her finger scrolling through the website of the online shop. loud footsteps were heard coming from the stairs, her hand instantly throwing her phone onto the couch to run at her husband. you rolled your eyes clearly bothered y her overreacted reaction and carefully stood up with gabi on your side. "look whos' here to help us pick clothes for our baby!" she exclaimed in her loud voice, motioning her hand toward you. part of you wanted to laugh and so did eren when he first saw you, he kept a cold expression, his fingers buttoning the buttons of his white shirt before adjusting his collar. "how you doin'?" he asked with his usual deep voice, a small smile forming on his face once gabi started to stretch out her arms for him. you looked down at her kissing the side of her head. "you wanna go to daddy?" she nodded, a little bit of drool oozing out of the corner of her mouth.

"she wants daddy alright." he walked toward you with a small smirk, the emphasis on the word daddy sending you both flashbacks of the many nights you spent together. eren took her from your arms, the little girl grasping onto his shirt.

"aren't we a beautiful family? it's a shame that reiner left you. i thought you two were going to get married. well, guess not everyone is as lucky as me!" she slyly stated, her arm wrapping around her husband as if he was some prize she won at the lottery.

if only she knew why he wasn't fucking her lately.

you thought to yourself, fighting the urge to mischievously smile at her. "indeed you are." you slightly chuckled, going to the kitchen to drink some water. it was one thing for her to talk about reiner when you know she was the one who sabotaged your relationship with by getting on her knees for him but to pity for it was a different level of audacity. you scoffed bringing the cup to your lips before smacking it back onto the granite counter. you didn't hear eren coming up behind you until you felt two hands gripping your hips. he brought your body back against him, your ass brushing against his dress pants. "i didn't know you were tagging along," he whispered in your ear, his long hair tickling your bare neck. you chuckled at his boldness, knowing that emma could sneak up on you both any time now.

"i didn't know you cared that much," you replied teasingly, your finger drawing patterns on the granite. his hand went up to your belly, slightly going over your breast and wrapped around your neck. "you know I do, she doesn't mean shit to me." he taunted kissing your earlobe. you shivered under his touch, his words making your heart skip a beat. and lord knows he was saying the truth. eren didn't care about her or her dumb book club with our housewives. he cared about you. as he turned your face to plant a kiss on your lips, his wife's voice broke you apart. "there she goes again." you sighed.

you untangled yourself from his grasp and went to walk past him but his hand was fast to reach down and grab your cunt, probably feeling the instant throbbing because of his sudden move. "i want some this later hm?" he gripped it harder and walked away, grabbing the blazer that was lying on the couch.

you bit your inner cheek and chuckled.

hours passed and you were still walking around the mall trying to find clothes for gabi. it was amazing how long it needed to find the right clothes for a baby. she was resting on her father's shoulder, her chubby cheeks pressed together as she slept peacefully. "pass her to me, samantha told me this place has the most beautiful clothes for babies." emma stopped in her tracks, pointing at the shop that was next to you. "meanwhile," she took gabi who now had an annoyed expression on her face. me and you both baby, you thought yourself, internally feeling bad for that infant to go through all of her mother's bullshit. "could you go order some food for us? i'm hungry." she pouted, eren sighing before nodding. she squealed pecking his lips and went into the store.

"i hate her so much," he whined running his hand over his face. "come on doll." you cocked your eyebrow at the nickname and made your way to the food court.

his hand brushed against yours multiple times as you were walking beside shops, eren holding your forearm once you reached victoria's secret. "this one would look perfect on you." he pointed at the black lacy lingerie that was displayed on the mannequin. "go try it on." he tilted his head, your brows furrowing together. you shook your head trying to let go of his grasp but he held on tighter. “eren we’re in public and we still need to get food.” you hissed irritatingly knowing what he was trying to do. it wouldn’t have been your first time fucking in public, however, your usual spots were either his office or his car. not a goddam changing room with people waiting in line.

“didn’t ask.” his voice was monotone and unbothered, just like his attitude. eren needed you now and he was going to get you. no need for any useless discussion. you wanted to please him just like he would always drop everything to please you so you decided to go in. you threw the cashier a smile which she politely reciprocated before asking you if you needed any help. “actually yes,” eren spoke up before you had time to say anything making you bite the insides of your cheeks. he can get so irritating sometimes. “my wife would like to try on that lingerie right there.” he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer, his finger pointing at the mannequin. he smiled down at you capturing your flustered face after he called you his wife. eren loved teasing you but this, this was cruel even coming from him. you looked up at his amused expression, wanting nothing more than to punch his face. before he could make another remark, his phone started ringing in his back pocket, a small groan escaping his lips once he saw who the called ID belonged to.

“yes emma?” he pulled you closer to him, his hand resting on your lower stomach, rubbing small circles. he hummed throughout the conversation, clearly not interested in anything she was saying. you could still hear everything she said from how loud she was being. you smirked to yourself when he hung up and rested his chin on your head. “let me guess, she met samantha and now she wants to grab coffee with her,” you muttered, eren scoffing slightly.

“i’m so sorry it took me so long but had to carefully slide it off. the lace is very fragile and tends to get torn apart easily,” she explained calmly before handing you the soft material. “thanks.” you turned on your heels to walk towards the changing room but she stopped you. “i’m very sorry but those changing rooms are currently full, you can use the ones on our second floor.” she pointed up. you nodded and started walking up the stairs, eren closely following you.

“well, no one’s in here,” eren stated, walking toward the couch that was placed in front of the black rooms before dropping himself on it. “come on, go put it on.” he motioned his finger forward earning a glare from you. "you know what's missing? a cigar and whiskey." you mocked him and went into the changing room, your hands reaching to close the curtains. unbelievable man. your phone chimed in your bag.

emma - 1:55

hey girl, i’m calling eren but he doesn’t seem to be next to his phone… anyway, i’m leaving with samantha and gabi. don’t wait for us. see ya!

you - 1:56

sure thing

you rolled your eyes before scoffing. as you reached to take your clothes off, the curtains were yanked open, eren pushing you further inside and closing them again. “you’re taking too long,” he mumbled, toying with the zipper of your jeans. “well your wife texted me.” he pulled down your pants as you carefully stepped out of them. “she’s leaving with samantha and gabi.” you unbuttoned his dress shirt before sliding it off his shoulders along with his blazer. lord this beautiful chest.

“is that so?” he cupped your face, capturing your lips with his. My hands ran over his toned chest, casually going over the ink that was beautifully placed on his pecs. “she said you weren’t answering her,” you said once he pulled away, his hands yanking your tank top down, freeing your breasts. “why would i?” he questioned sarcastically, taking your nipple between his lips. you threw your head back, your fingers rushing to grab his hair. “i got everything i need right here.” he moved on to the next one, still gently palming the other.

“eren,” you breathed your cunt already a throbbing mess. “we don’t have time, someone might come up.” he pulled away, pushing your thong to the side before going down on his knees, his hand lifting your thigh to position it on his shoulder. “let them come.” and with that, he latched his mouth on your pussy, not wasting any time giving it long licks, casually rubbing circles over your clit.

he was insane. but so were you for sleeping with him. you looked down to see him making out vigourously with your pussy, forcing your thighs to squeeze his head, bringing him closer to your heat. his fingers dug in your flesh, his hums sending vibrations down your core. your hand was covering your mouth, doing your best to keep myself quiet. your chest was moving crazily, your legs almost giving out.

your eyes almost shut close as you felt your orgasm rush to rip through my body, if only you didn’t hear the cashier’s voice from outside the room.

“ma’am, i’m sorry but i just wanted to check if you were okay.” she worriedly called out, making eren detach his lips from your pulsating cunt, looking up at you with an amusing smile.

“i’m okay, i’m sorry i just-“ you bit down on your finger as he pushed two digits in, his eyes watching you with complete hunger as you tried to compose yourself. “i think i- i think i didn’t get it right the first time, you know-“ his fingers curled inside you, hitting your spot. “didn’t put it on correctly. i’ll be out in a few.” you forced out, reaching out to bite your finger again.

“oh, it’s okay it happens a lot. take your time.” she politely said before the sound of her footsteps faded. “asshole.” you moaned out hearing him chuckle, his mouth going back to suck on your clit, his fingers still working inside you. you quietly whimpered, rolling your hips to ride his face in hopes to get closer to your orgasm. "c'mon baby, you wanna come on my face? c'mon."

after a few more strokes, your legs furiously shook and your fingers roughly tugged on his hair as you came all over his face, some of your arousal skipping to slide down your leg. eren pulled away, a smirk very prominent on his face as he dragged his tongue up your leg to lick off your cum. you heavily breathed, your body now facing the wall as he turned you around, both hands steadily pushing against it.

“do you want it?” he teased, his tip now sliding up and down your wet folds. you arched your back trying to make him slide it in, but he grabbed your neck, gently applying pressure on it. “do you want me?” he kissed the nape of your neck, pushing his tip teasingly in before pulling out.

“yes daddy,” you moaned, his hand gently spanking your ass, the cold metal of his ring sending shivers down your spine. he chuckled before covering your mouth with the hand that was choking you and rammed into you. you whimpered into his palm, his cock stretching you. “shh i said quiet, don’t be a bad slut.” he taunted almost pulling out before thrusting roughly again. his thrusts were hard and fast, your cries muffled by his hand. his other hand reached out to grab your hip, pushing it back to meet his thrusts. your eyes rolled back, his soft grunts and the adrenaline rush of getting caught making you want to come for the second time.

“you feel so good around me, shit.” his voice was deep, his lips leaving kisses on your shoulder. “i really did marry the wrong woman.” he scoffed pushing himself deeper into me. he bit your flesh, his hand moving up to pinch your nipples. you were getting closer to your orgasm and you could tell that he was close too by how sloppy his strokes were getting. your hand flew down to your clit to rub small circles, accentuating the pleasure.

your forehead was now resting against the velvet wall wanting nothing more but to feel his cum filling you up. “fuck, fuck darling” he moaned out, his hips meeting yours. “gonna make daddy come? eh?” you nodded eagerly, your legs wobbly. he must have felt that your knees were getting weaker as he flipped you around, his arms going down your thighs to lift you up and make you wrap your legs around him.

he instantly pushed himself back in, silencing your moans with his mouth as your climax shook your body, your cunt clenching around his fat cock. “fuck you’re choking me,” he groaned, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. “gonna come inside you so hard baby, holy fuck.”

“shit, eren…” you mumbled as you felt him empty himself in you, his hot cum painting your walls. he pulled out with a growl, your cum leaking out of your opening. “well fuck we need to clean this. i’ll be right back.” he pecked your lips, gently putting you down. you grabbed his arm and tilted your head toward the floor. “my bag.” his mouth formed an ‘o’ as he searched for some tissues. he waved them once he found them and cleaned your legs and thighs. eren cleaned himself and threw the tissues onto the ground to put back on his dress shirt and blazer. once he was dressed again, he got out to throw the tissues in the garbage can that was sitting in the corner and went back in to check if you needed anything.

“eren i’m fine, just putting on my jeans.” you chuckled, your face blushing. you adjusted your top and grabbed the lingerie that was still untouched then made your way down the stairs to give it back to the cashier. “did you like it?” she smiled taking the item from your hand.

“very, it will be my gift for our anniversary,” eren answered, the cashier gushing over you. “oh aren’t you a lucky one.” she poked you.

“that i am.” you chuckled knowing that this won’t be the last time that he would do something like that. his phone rang again, a loud sigh escaping his lips. “yes?” he answered and paid the woman before giving me the bag. “she wanted to buy some things so we’ll be getting lunch right now,” he stated as you both head out of the store.

“yeah, she found what she’s been looking for.” he looked down at you with a cocky smirk on his face.

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Advertise You're Mine

For @goodboylupin's Candy Hearts Challenge. My candy heart prompt was Cool Kid. This was first little online tumblr challenge I've ever done and i enjoyed it immensely. thank you for putting this together and...enjoy.

...every time he looked in the mirror and saw that jacket around his shoulders, or one of Sirius’ rings on his fingers, he felt it. Perhaps this could be the boy that was smooth enough, charming enough, graceful enough, confident enough, to hold Sirius's attention.

Even if it felt like a costume.

Playing dress-up in his boyfriend’s clothing in hopes that there was charisma embedded in the seams.

Because leather jackets, in reality, were no match for knobby elbows that bumped into Lily’s during Potions.

--

Remus watched from a distance as Sirius finished his conversation with some other student from Ravenclaw. He watched as Sirius smiled and laughed, leaning the wall of the corridor so effortlessly, his dark curls pulled away from his face with a bright yellow headband borrowed from Marlene. On anyone else, it might have looked ridiculous, but not on Sirius. Owning the accessory and his black nail polish and hands adorned in gold jewelry with confidence that most people dreamed about.

Including Remus.

He watched as the Ravenclaw boy punched Sirius in the arm--the boy with handsome chocolate brown hair and blue eyes that had always gravitated towards Sirius; the boy who made frequent attempts to capture Sirius after he finished Quidditch practice with an innocent question of wanting some Arithmancy help because Sirius was best in class or asking if he caught the latest match on the wireless; the boy who also had an effortless grace about him, his lean matching Sirius’s, smile tilting up just the right amount to avoid giving too much away.

Remus wondered if there was some sort of auction their ancestors attended years ago to bid on traits for their future generations. The Blacks had obviously spent a hefty sum, outbidding everyone to ensure all of them captured the quintessential art of being cool (and the quintessential temperament of always being thisfuckingclose to doing something irrational and impulsive). The Lupins, on the other hand, had forgotten to set an alarm, not arriving until late and the only traits left were “perpetually exhausted”, “freckles”, and “says precisely the wrong thing at the wrong time”.

Sirius’ grey eyes drifted away from the Ravenclaw, finding Remus down the hall, his smile brightening the tiniest bit, noticing his boyfriend. It didn’t take long for Sirius to excuse himself from the conversation, a vague promise of giving the other boy his notes said as he pushed away from the wall, standing straight once more. Remus also watched the Ravenclaws mouth turn down in a slight frown when he saw where Sirius was going before he turned into the doors to head to the Great Hall for dinner.

“I was waiting for you,” Sirius grinned as he made the extra trip to meet Remus when it would’ve made more sense for Remus to walk to him. “You could have interrupted.”

“But you looked so enthralled,” Remus teased, though he welcomed the hand Sirius extended to him, long fingers intertwining between Sirius’s. Sirius had learned about stick and poke tattoos over the summer, his body turning into a canvas used to release restlessness or ideas that were too big for the confines of his skull. Professor McGonagall clicked her tongue every time she noticed a new one, but the whispers around the castle just confirmed Remus’ thoughts and probably the ones of the Ravenclaw boy: Sirius was too cool to be holding hands with Remus, who had an ink smudge halfway down his and one hair that wouldn’t lie flat standing up in the center of his forehead. Lily had poked fun at it all day.

“But I missed you,” Sirius countered, kissing Remus quickly on the side of the head, “I missed you so much I had to pretend to be enthralled with Turpin and homework. You should know not to keep a lady waiting.”

“Ah, my apologies, madame,” Remus returned bowing in Sirius’ direction making him laugh, eyes crinkling in the corner the way they never did when Sirius was laughing at things other people said. “I stayed behind in Runes because I accidentally knocked over a display and broke not one but two precious heirlooms of sorts.”

Sirius laughed again, holding open the door for Remus to walk in first, even if it meant their hands separated for a few moments, “What a way to end the day. Was it fixable?”

“One of them was not, and I apologized so many times Professor Babbling had to give me a detention to get me to stop.”

“For apologizing?”

“Or…you know, the entire Welsh dictionary of swear words I said between the apologies…but it’s hard to say.” Sirius laughed for the third time, just as they took their seat at the bench, Sirius sandwiched between James and Remus just as he preferred.

That night, when he and Sirius slipped outside to smoke on the grounds after hours after Remus had done prefect rounds and made sure the hallways were clear because it was after curfew, after all, and students shouldn’t be out of bed, Remus asked Sirius for his leather jacket.

“Cold?” Sirius asked, but didn’t hesitate to fill the request.

“Something like that,” Remus said, donning the piece of clothing like armor. Sirius was twice as broad as Remus was, the arms comically large and even the torso was the slightest bit too long, but it was warm and protective and made Remus feel untouchable wearing it.

--

Remus’ collection of Sirius’ clothing grew.

He had every intention of giving the leather jacket back at the end of the night, but he couldn’t help himself when evening rolled around again and he reached for the garment like it belonged to him the same way he reached for Sirius’s hand in the common room or after Quidditch games. Sirius didn’t blink, just folded himself into Remus for warmth as they smoked. Which perhaps had been the ploy all along.

But then Remus also took a faded band t-shirt from his boyfriend's collection, wearing it on Saturday underneath his own denim coat. He swapped out his converse for Sirius’ black boots, the two of them sharing a shoe size, this one perhaps the least out of the ordinary piece of pilfered clothing.

Every item of clothing he took, every time he looked in the mirror and saw that jacket around his shoulders, or one of Sirius’ rings on his fingers, he felt it. Perhaps this could be the boy that was smooth enough, charming enough, graceful enough, confident enough, to hold Sirius's attention.

Even if it felt like a costume.

Playing dress-up in his boyfriend’s clothing in hopes that there was charisma embedded in the seams.

Because leather jackets, in reality, were no match for knobby elbows that bumped into Lily’s during Potions.

Combat boots didn’t outweigh the Welsh accent Remus slipped into sometimes when he was exhausted or frustrated; nor his surly disposition any time before 9am, even when Sirius’ chin was resting on his shoulder and his boyfriend’s mouth was whispering good morning until Remus actually believed it was.

It didn’t help a coffee addiction or the way Remus’ hands picked at his nails until they bled when he was anxious about school work, the notes he lent out occasionally have blood around the edges.

It didn’t help the dark circles under his eyes, or the scars on his body, or the way his joints popped when he stood up too fast.

It was just a shield for insecurities that some days-- like the days he saw his handsome as sin boyfriend talking with boys from Ravenclaw--were the loudest voices in his head.

--

Remus watched as Sirius tilted his head back, blowing smoke into the night sky. They sat on a ledge along the wall, Remus’ legs dangling over the edge and Sirius straddling it so he could face Remus, planting kisses whenever he saw fit now that they were away from the rest of the noise. But when Sirius brought his face back towards Remus, he raised an eyebrow, grey eyes scanning Remus slowly.

Leather jacket.

Boots that weren’t his own. A gold ring that Sirius wore on his middle finger on Remus’ thumb, their hands' opposites of one another. Sirius’ broad and massive, Remus’ long and thin.

“Are you stealing my clothes with the intention of having me be naked on the weekends more often?” he asked, a smirk pulling on his lips.

“Ideal situation,” Remus shrugged, taking a drag from his joint to avoid answering.

“I don’t mind, for the record.”

“Good.”

“It’s cute.”

Remus rolled his eyes, giving Sirius a look, his boyfriend knowing how much he despised that word, “It’s not.”

“Oh, but it is, my darling,” Sirius leaned closer, moving the joint out of the way and meeting Remus’ stubborn mouth with his own, “The cutest. I’m just curious…”

“Hm.”

Sirius kissed his neck, once and then again just under his jawline, “You should know you don’t need to advertise that you’re mine.”

“Keep that up and my neck absolutely will.” Remus could feel Sirius smile against his skin before lips met the space just above the collar of the leather jacket again, nipping softly, and Remus bit back a sharp inhale.

“Don’t sound too opposed…” Sirius’ hand found the small of his back, warm palm finding its way under layers of jackets and uniform to meet nothing but skin, pulling Remus to him. Lips continued to kiss. Applying more pressure, Remus’ head rolled almost involuntarily to the side to give Sirius better access.

You don’t need to advertise that you’re mine

Perhaps a lovebite in addition to the clothing co-opted from his boyfriend's closet would drive the point home. If only for himself.

Cigarette abandoned on the ledge, smoke from the joint in Remus’ hand wafting into the air in small trails. He brought his hand up to the back of Sirius’ head, letting him continue against his better judgment.

More kisses on his neck.

His breathing hitched when lips hit the sensitive part under his ear.

He couldn’t decide if he liked it better when Sirius was focused on making him moan, or when Sirius slowed his ministrations to smile. So happy to have Remus near him; on him; with him.

Lips found his own finally, Remus melting into the kiss. Sirius’ hand that wasn’t on his back touching the side of his face.

“My moonlight...” Sirius’s voice was soft and breathless when they broke apart, coming up for air, grey eyes locked in his with such intensity it made Remus flush, the winter temperature unable to penetrate his attire and Sirius’ proximity at once.

“Mhmm,” Remus confirmed, and Sirius grinned before putting his forehead onto Remus’ shoulder other arm wrapping around his torso; big hands joining together on the skin of his back. He could feel one of Sirius’ fingers run along a scar by his shoulder blade.

“I didn’t think you would notice.”

“Mm?”

“That I was taking your clothes.”

Sirius scoffed, “Remus, you’re my favorite thing to pay attention to. Of course, I notice. I also noticed today when you tied that Slytherins shoelaces together in Potions when they made fun of Lily.”

“That sounds…like something I would never do because I’m a prefect. Well-behaved and the like.” Remus had to bite back a smile though, the image of the burly Slytherin standing up from his work station and stumbling over himself, falling into his classmates in a feeble attempt to catch his balance replaying in the back of his mind.

“And James is Head Boy. Those positions may have meant something, but now? Not a chance.” Sirius said, his forehead still on Remus’ shoulder. Remus brought his joint up to his lips again, feeling the dust in his lungs and his favorite heartbeat next to his own.

He exhaled into the night, absorbing the quiet.

It was his favorite place to be. Alone together.

A place for snogging. A place for confessions.

“Sometimes…I see you talking to other blokes and think you’re better off with them. You know, the blokes who tell the right jokes and not just some…dark and twisted comment about how we’re all going to die?” Sirius snorted, “You know…someone who can read a room? I can’t for the life of me, you know this, and sometimes I see you talking to all the other good-looking twats in this school and think that’s the kind of person you should be with. Someone…cool and…all that. I’m just a second-hand sweater-wearing- sarcastic, snarky asshole.”

Sirius slowly picked his head up, “Remus…you’re the coolest person I know.”

“Liar.”

“Sometimes, not now,” Sirius shook his head, “You roll the best joints out of all of us, you’re the one who told me about all the good muggle music, you have the best prank ideas…”

“You know what I mean, Sirius.”

“I really don’t.”

“Look at you and then look at me, and tell me you don’t ever wonder in which universe, we’d go together.”

“Every one of them,” Sirius said quickly and confidently, “Especially this one. Cause I’m in this one, with you. And that is the coolest thing of all. You’re the type of cool kid who actually gives a shit about me.”

“I don’t just give a shit about you, I love you, idiot.”

“Exactly.”

Remus leaned forward, to kiss Sirius again, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

A hum of contentment.

Joint falling to the ground in favor of tugging on dark curls, and losing himself into the most beautiful boy he’d ever known.

Remus returned the boots and the t-shirts, only keeping the jacket because it was warmer and nicer than anything he owned and the ring because it made Sirius particularly happy to see it around his finger.

Looks good on you. Fancy trying my last name on as well?

--

Saturday morning rolled around, Remus not surprised when he woke up to find the spot in bed next to him empty, but a little confused when Sirius wasn’t even in the common room. Even more so when he finally joined James, Peter, and Lily at breakfast, Sirius was still nowhere to be found.

“Did you see Sirius this morning?” Remus asked, unintentionally bumping James with his left hand as he reached for the potatoes on the table.

James shook his head, “He was gone when I came back from my run. Do I need to be worried--”

“You don’t need to be worried about anything, you old maid,” Remus said, but then paused to think for a moment. Usually, Sirius waited. “It’s…too early to cause trouble right? And it’s Saturday…?”

“Who’s the old maid now?”

“Still you.”

“I don’t know about early. If he’s been up since 5am, then it’s mid-day for him and by that standard--”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Remus sighed and looked towards the door, just in time to see Sirius walking in next to Professor Sinastra, talking with her animatedly about something.

The way Sirius talked when he wasn’t trying to impress anyone or wasn’t acutely aware of people watching.

But what made Remus smile most of all--Sirius was wearing one of Remus’ sweaters.

It was too small for him, on anyone else it would’ve looked ridiculous, especially coupled with the knot on top of his head secured with a white scrunchie. The knitwear pulled against broad shoulders, sitting tightly around arms, where on Remus it just hung. It was too short, sitting above Sirius’ hip bones, a strip of olive skin visible above black faded jeans. The sweater was one of Remus’ favorites. Hideous shades of browns and greens in stripes that were so off from Sirius’s usual color palette.

As Sirius got closer to the table, separating from Sinastra, Remus could see the rips in the shoulder seams, tiny holes from how many times the sweater was worn not made any better by a body that was too large for it. He took his seat between him and James, kissing both of them on the cheek in succession, though Sirius’s arm moved around Remus to rest on the other side of him on the bench.

“Morning.”

“Where were you?” asked James.

“I went to talk with Sinastra. There’s a meteor shower tonight and it looked interesting so I wanted to get written permission to watch it.”

“Were you really?” James looked at him incredulously,

“Yeah, I really was.” Sirius said, “Because now, I have written permission to snog up there all night, and--”

“Oh, you were doing so well,” James shook his head, “Is this where I pretend I didn’t hear?”

“No, this is the part you say that you’re coming with me.”

“That’s implied and I’m insulted you’d think otherwise.”

Sirius bumped James with this shoulder before settling further into the bench, motioning for Marlene across the table for the kettle.

“Nice sweater,” Remus told him and a slow smile spread over Sirius’s face.

“Cool, isn’t it?”

[pancakes4two]

that summer feelin’ | three

preview: Tossing a tube of toothpaste to you, Harry leans his arm against the corner of the bathroom where the sink meets the wall.

“So, when was your last relationship?” He asks, twisting his hair up and using a small black clip to hold his curls in place.

“We’ve moved on to the hard-hitting questions?” You mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste, while Harry rubs foam cleanser into his face.

“Of course. Don’t wanna listen to you ramble on about your childhood crush on Daniel Radcliffe any longer,” He retorts, turning on the tap and gently washing the suds off of his skin.

“Try not to get too jealous,” you jab, spitting your toothpaste into the sink next to him and wiping off the side of your mouth. “Can’t help it if I have a thing for Harrys.”

A/N: apologies for how long it took me to post this, been pretty busy lately :( in other news, i’m starting to write a new series that’s very different from this one so if you’re curious please check out the preview post here!

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chapter 3 - the very first night

soundtrack: i know a place - MUNA

harry’s pov:

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You saw a sketchy ad online for a free vacation and $50,000, and you actually answered it?” Harry asks you incredulously. The two of you were currently discussing how you wound up on Love Island, after Harry had realized he told you his origin story on your date but had yet to have heard yours.

“That’s what I said.” You reply, looking up to see that the outside of the villa was mostly empty. The other islanders must have gone inside to get ready for bed, leaving you and Harry alone in the quiet night for a bit.

“How did you not know it was for Love Island?” Harry questions, looking quite amused. He shifts his body so that he’s fully facing you and tucks his knees in towards himself, looking positively cozy.

“Listen, I studied English in school, and considered adding law for a while too. I’ll give you a wild guess as to whether or not I had time to watch shitty reality TV.” You laugh, staring up at the dark sky. For some reason, you and the rest of the islanders were not allowed to know the time while in the villa. There were no clocks to be found anywhere, and your phones never displayed the time either. It’s weird: you somehow simultaneously feel like so much time and so little time has passed since your date with Harry earlier today.

“I wanted to do law after my GCSEs!”

“Did you actually?”

“Well, law…” Harry starts, “and sociology, and business, and lots of other things.”

“Bit indecisive, aren’t we?” You poke at him, running a hand up and down your arm as a cool breeze fluttered by.

“Well, decisive only with the things that matter most,” Harry says while attempting a wink, “you cold? Maybe we should head inside?”

“Sounds good,” you hum in agreement. The two of you head back towards the inside of the villa, still chatting mindlessly about stupid things like what your go-to hang out spots were in primary school and that one time you and your best friend both tried to surprise each other with a visit during uni, and ended up missing each other. The stories flow endlessly between the two of you, and you can barely remember a time where you actually wanted to speak to another human being this much. While you consider yourself to be a social person, your social battery does tend to run out fairly quickly, so it’s rare that you find enough energy to keep a conversation for this long.

Maybe it’s just the adrenaline from being dropped into the villa so suddenly, or the fact that everyone around you seems to be the textbook definition of an extrovert—definitely not because there’s something special about Harry. That’s one thing you would never admit to yourself so early on.

You’re pleasantly surprised to see that the bathroom is empty when you and Harry walk in. Earlier today, he’d been complaining about how difficult it was to find a time where there weren’t four people trying to share two sinks and a single mirror. That’s the thing about talking to Harry: it becomes so easy for the two of you to lose track of time. Evidently, the other islanders have long since finished their nighttime routines and were gossiping in bed while the two of you desperately try to catch up before lights-out.

Tossing a tube of toothpaste to you, Harry leans his arm against the corner of the bathroom where the sink meets the wall.

“So, when was your last relationship?” He asks, twisting his hair up and using a small black clip to hold his curls in place.

“We’ve moved on to the hard-hitting questions?” You mumble around a mouthful of toothpaste, while Harry rubs foam cleanser into his face.

“Of course. Don’t wanna listen to you ramble on about your childhood crush on Daniel Radcliffe any longer,” He retorts, turning on the tap and gently washing the suds off of his skin.

“Try not to get too jealous,” you jab, spitting your toothpaste into the sink next to him and wiping off the side of your mouth. “Can’t help it if I have a thing for Harrys.”

Harry looks amused for a moment, but then he pauses and points an accusing finger at you. “Don’t try and avoid my question, woman!”

“I was doing nothing of the sort!” You gasp, swatting his finger away. “Fine. My last relationship ended during my second year at uni. I was dating a guy I met at college long-distance, but he turned out to be a fucking prick.”

“Can I ask why?” Harry interjects sincerely. He picks up a pink-colored toothbrush and lets it dangle from his mouth as he twists open the cap on his toothpaste.

“He was basically mugging me off the entire time we dated,” you shrug, watching Harry squeeze toothpaste onto the bristles. “Hooking up with girls and stuff to get the full uni experience. Telling our friends we had an open relationship because the distance was too much of a strain. You know, general muggy behavior.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, and the thing is, he looks so genuinely sorry that you wonder why the hell this guy looks like he’s about to apologize for all the things your ex did to you.

“What’re you sorry for?” You laugh, the two of you heading for the bedroom.

“You don’t deserve that,” Harry says simply. He takes off the hoodie he was wearing and hands it to you, and your mind flashes back to earlier, when the two of you were sitting outside and his eyes followed your hands as you ran them up and down the goosebumps on your arms.

“Here. Figured you get cold easily. Our bed is right next to the AC, unfortunately, so you’re probably going to need that.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, caught off-guard by his perceptiveness. You pull the hoodie over your head and breathe in his scent, all clean and reminiscent of a day spent soaking in the sun. When the two of you finally arrive at your bed, you’re met with a chorus of cheers from the rest of the islanders. Harry calms them down with a flick of his hand and turns to you in bed, making sure he isn’t crossing any boundaries by touching you when you haven’t given him permission to.

“Is this okay?” He asks, softly carding his fingers through your hair. The lights start to turn off then, but you catch a glimpse of the sage green in his eyes right before they fully flickered into darkness.

“Yeah,” you smile. You know he can’t see it, but you hope he hears it in your voice. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” Harry replies.

You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, the motion of his hands in your hair slowing as he gradually drifts into subconsciousness. Strangely, his smile and the deep rasp of his voice make their way into your dreams.

[bokuroskitten]

c-cockwarming with kuroo kenma bo ushi and iwa? 😳

I’ve got some real big brained anons asking me real big brained asks😌

ℌℭ ❦

〈 Kuroo, Kenma, Bokuto, Ushijima and Iwaizumi and how they like cockwarming

✵ genre: NSFW 18+ (Minors DNI)

✵ warnings: cockwarming, dom/sub dynamics (daddy, papa, & sir titles used), mentions of voyeurism

Kenma would have you warming him up all the time if he could, so every chance he gets he’s calling you over. Gaming, streaming, watching tv, doing just about anything, he loves sliding you down nice and slow on his cock. Your walls have been fit to his cock by now, so it’s always the perfect squeeze when you sit on him. Typically he’ll have you sit in his lap, back against his chest so you can do what you want as well, but mostly it’s so whenever he is live steaming he can suddenly thrust within you, watch the way you desperately try to keep your composure so the chat won’t start talking about how flushed you suddenly look.

“K-Kenma...” you murmur softly, feeling the warmth from your face slowly begin to spread along your chest. A smirk flickered over Kenma’s features, only for a brief moment, before he was back to that serious look, eyes glued to his game. “Yea babe?” He spoke, nonchalant as ever. That had your cheeks puffing up briefly, eyes darting from his game to the webcam that had the little green light on. You knew very well the stream was on, and considering the number in the bottom corner just kept steadily rising, you couldn’t just blurt out loud ‘Quit moving your hips’. Before you could even really get the thought out, Kenma knew, thrusting his hips up once more. One fluid motion of his body and his cock was hitting perfectly along your sweet spot. This time you couldn’t hold back the little Yelp that bubbled from your lips. Kenma had to laugh, quick to mute his mic as the chat began to pop off. He wouldn’t turn it off though. Oh no. He just got close to your ear, whispered in that voice he knew you loved.

“Better relax Kitten, or I’m gonna have to fuck you right here on stream. So sit pretty for me... unless my naughty girl wants it... you want it, baby?”

⋆⋆⋆

Kuroo is on his computer a lot, doing work and attending online meetings. He has set up a nice little office space for himself and he finds himself in there a little more than he likes. Especially since he has such a cute little kitty at home just waiting to be played with. Sometimes, when you just can’t stay away from him you poke your head in the door, the little mewl you let out making Kuroos brows twitch. Only a couple of pleas from your pretty lips has him caving. He likes when you straddle him, your little cunt fluttering so perfectly around his cock. He also likes how hard you cling to him, face in his neck and fingers getting lost in the hairs at the nape of his neck. Whenever he feels your hips begin to rock he’ll tsk, putting an easy stop to it.

“Kitty, don’t get greedy,” Kuroo speaks right beside your ear, goosebumps easily rising along your arms as you let out a needy whine. You hope it’s pretty enough to make Kuroo cave, or at least enough to make him let go of your hips. “P-Please Daddy, needa feel more of you in my cunny.” And it was true, you’re puffy walls were currently hugging him so perfectly, squeezing along his cock. Your legs tightened about his waist, wanting to add some friction to your clit that was currently throbbing for it. But Kuroo still had work to do, and even though your pleas made him weak at the knees, made his resolve wanna crumble so he could fuck you right here on the desk, he had to teach his pretty baby some patience. So he gave your rear a swat, a warning along with a hum.

“I know baby I know... your cunny is just fluttering like crazy around Daddy’s cock today. But just a little longer. So no more whining.”

You clung to him tighter, muffling your whines into the side of his neck and suckling the skin there instead. You stilled your hips though. Kuroo had to smile, fingers beginning to tap away at his keyboard again while your perfect velvet walls hugged his cock.

⋆⋆⋆

Part of Bokuto’s job was staying fit, considering he was constantly active out on the court. The gym he set up in your shared apartment was nothing short of impressive, and you couldn’t help poking in there while he was grunting away. Skin shining with sweat, muscles ripping as he lifted the next set of weights, you couldn’t help but lick your lips, or the little flood that happened between your thighs. Usually, Bokuto could wait until he was done, but sometimes you just looked too good, so desperate and needy as you clung to that door frame, basically drooling at him. He would take a seat, pulling you into his lap.

“12...13...14...” Bokuto’s voice was strained in the best possible way, his chest fluttering as you suddenly clenched down around him. He slowly lowered the weights to his sides a grin growing on his face as he felt your little nails dig deeper into his thighs. He pressed up into you, grin growing at the yelp you released. You could feel your cheeks heat up, pussy desperately milking his cock when it slapped against your cervix. “P-Papa!” You whined, looking back at him with tears swimming in your pretty eyes. “‘M sorry pretty Birdy... sometimes I can’t help but tease you when this perfect little cunt is squeezing me so good.” He pressed a few kisses along your cheeks, before he took hold of your jaw, forced your eyes back on the mirror in front of the two of you. “But Papa needs more motivation so he finishes his workout. So spread so legs back open, wanna see your pussy splitting.” And you had no choice but to listen, only thinking of how he’d pin you to the mirrors later to fuck you stupid. So you lulled your legs back open, biting your lip as he moaned at the sight of your stuffed hole.

“Perfect...” he breathed, keeping his eyes glued to the reflection as he hauled the weights back up to continue his count.

⋆⋆⋆

Ushijima isn’t much for PDA. Those little touches you always give him, running those pretty fingers along toned arms in public. It’s just too much for him. But Ushijima is a collected man, knows how to hold himself back. And know very well you’re doing it all on purpose. You’re his pretty baby, after all, he knows how you like to tease, pressing into his side on the subway or leaning down to look at something with a skirt that’s just a little too short. Ushi knows, when the two of you get home, your frame already vibrating with excitement, he had no problem pulling you onto his cock.

“More... more Sir....” the whine you release around his fingers as he stuffs them between your lips is high pitched, almost a little offended as tears swirl in your gaze. But Ushijima doesn’t budge, doesn’t move one inch other than his long fingers which are now pumping in your mouth. Your left whimpering around him, his cock throbbing within your walls and stretching you open without even moving an inch. “Maybe if you hadn’t been so handsy today and just asked for some dick like a good girl, you wouldn’t be in this position.” Ushijima huffed out, brows knitting together at the mess of drool that already started to bubble down your chin and around his knuckles. “But because you can’t keep your hands to yourself, you’re gonna keep my cock warm until I feel like fucking, are we clear.”

He knew you couldn’t respond, but the mewl you release as your fingers dig deeper into the skin of his thighs is satisfying enough to have a subtle smirk twitching on his lips.

⋆⋆⋆

Iwaizumi likes the closeness that comes along with cock warming, especially after a long day. There are some days where your schedules just don’t aline until late into the evening when the sun has already set. You’re both too exhausted for any sort of sex, but still want to be close to one another, want to share soft kisses and embraces. So once you two have dressed down for the night you curl up on your shared bed, finding a comfortable spot together.

“Princess...” Iwaizumi sighs into your ear, his palms slipping under the fabric of your shirt so he could the warmth of your skin. You mewl in response, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck before pressing wet kisses along the column. “Love you so much daddy...” you murmur back to him softly, your eyes fluttering a bit as he twitched between your walls. He was slowly growing, filling you up inch by inch until that familiar squeeze was apart between your thighs. It always felt so good, being stuffed by him when you drifted off into sleep. A smile curled on Iwa’s sleepy features, the familiar grip of your cunt around his dick making him sigh out in content.

“Love you too, my pretty princess.” He kisses along the crown of your head, hands massaging down your back as you cling to him tighter, sleep weighing down your eyes.

[hypmic-writings]

HHEEYYY!!! IT'S 6:00PM I'M FREAKING OUT!! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY WHOLE LIFE, not that long but feels like ◉‿◉ I've wondering if you can do something like 「TRYING TO RECREATE AKNHA DANCE With Hypmic boys 」 not all of them but 3 at your choice. Thank u and we love u! You are the best~

━━ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ━━

Pairing: Ichiro Yamada x reader; Kuko Harai x reader; Jyushi Aimono x reader

Genre: NSFW

Warnings: Allusions to Sensual Dancing??

A/N: Call me old but I had absolutely no idea what the Aknha Dance was, so I had to look it up. I believe it’s a sexual innuendo from everything I’ve deciphered online, one where the dancer sways their hips in a sensual way, but I could be totally wrong and if that’s the case, I deeply apologize. Hope this is along the lines of what you wanted~

NSFW UNDER THE CUT; 18+ ONLY - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Ichiro Yamada

Ichiro was just casually laying down on the bed when you get the idea to do a little prank on him

you hop over to where he is and call out his name to get his attention before grabbing his hand and smiling evilly at him

the confusion is written all over his face, but that quickly goes away when you start to do the iconic Aknha Dance that’s been floating around the internet lately

of course, Ichiro knows exactly what you’re doing because he’s chronically online, and he also games from time to time

so the reference to the dance that was originally from Animal Crossing but has now become a meme is something he’s familiar with

but that doesn’t stop him from becoming extremely flustered

his face turns red but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you as you tease him with your swaying hips 

he grins at you, half confused and half nervous, unsure of whether to hype you up or whether to turn away

you haven’t been dating for all that long, and he’s just not sure of what you want his reaction to be because he doesn’t want to cross a line but you’re dancing it so well and he’s in awe

omg so wholesome 

Ichiro attempts to look away, and it’s only then that you laugh and stop dancing, pushing him back onto the bed so that you can fall down beside him

and poking his face lightly with a teasing smile and a light chuckle

because it’s usually Ichiro who’s teasing you, so this is a nice way to get back at him a bit

“Was that too much?” you chuckle

“No way, you’ll definitely have to show me more of that dance later! And I want to know just how you learned to do it so well!” he exclaimes

but this only makes you laugh harder

Kuko Harai

Kuko is always stealing wifi from his friends to play around on his phone, so he’s pretty up to date on all of the memes floating around

he’s seen the Aknha dance, and he knows exactly what it is, but this makes your plan even better

you’re tired of Kuko always teasing you, so you wait until he comes over one day to enact your plan of revenge to tease him back

you wait until he’s sitting comfortably on the couch, unaware of your music already set up to that of the Aknha zone

and as soon as his attention drifts away, you stand up over him, close enough for him to see everything, but not close enough to touch

and you hit play on the music, laughing lightly as you start to do the Aknha dance, swaying your hips in time to the beats of the song

Kuko is immediately startled, staring at you and not knowing what to do for a moment

but he quickly realizes what’s happening, and he can’t stop himself from grinning a toothy smirk and nodding in approval

because he thinks you look sexy doing the dance and it’s even more sexy that you’re doing it just for him

once you feel you’ve teased him enough, you stop the dance and the music and take a little bow as Kuko cheers

he tells you your dance was amazing and that he definitely wants to see it again, but you just chuckle and tell him that next time he’ll have to be the one dancing for you

Kuko will ask why you did the dance, and whether or not you practiced it, but you just shrug your shoulders and tell him that it’s a secret

to which he narrows his eyes and says that it’s fine as long as he’s the only one you dance that particular dance for 

Jyushi Aimono

you can hear Jyushi playing on his switch before you walk into the room and you can immediately tell that he’s in the Aknha zone just from hearing the music

you suddenly remember a meme that you had come across the other day as a mischevious smile dawns on your face

you know you shouldn’t tease Jyushi like this, but it’s just too good to resist, so you steady yourself as you enter the room

just as you predicted, he’s sitting at his desk playing the video game, so you quickly call his name to get his attention

once his eyes are one you, they quickly widen and his jaw drops as he’s practically frozen in fear and anticipation

you’re moving your hips in a suggestive way, recreating the dance that you saw online and giving your boyfriend a sultry look

to you, it feels silly, but it must be having some kind of effect because Jyushi’s face is as red as a tomato and he looks like he’s simultaneously about to cry and about to explode

you keep going for a while before you finally stop, laughing lightly at his expression and nodding to him

“Well? What did you think of my dance?”

Jyushi continues to stare at you for a moment, pulse racing as he tries to get his head on straight to respond

and when he does, it’s a flurry of comments about how good you looked doing the dance, but how you can never do it in front of anyone else 

and that you can only dance like that when he’s around otherwise he’ll get too jealous

and as he’s vehemently going on about your dancing skills, you can see tears well up in his eyes, and you can’t quite place if they’re happy or terrified 

you feel a little bad, so you give him a kiss and tell him that you promise to only dance that dance for him

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

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

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again. 

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized. 

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.