#so this is how id approach a dog

[ilikecarsandlike4people]

Hi, how are you doing? I hope you're having a great day.

Since Daniel is scared of dogs can we have a doodle of Lewis introducing Roscoe to Daniel?

Don't worry, he won't eat you!💜

[gallusrostromegalus]

Move To A Darker Place

This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.

---

Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.

My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God.  He taught himself how to use his smartphone.  Internationally.

So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.

It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity. 

“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”

The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.

a.k.a: A Selfie.

“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.

Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.

“Oh. You should have said so.”  Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.

Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.

“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid.  My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.

Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution:  He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.

But I digress.

After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.

And here is where the real trouble began.

See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose.  While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.

He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada.  He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.

He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.

She looked back at him, and farted.

“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her. 

She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.

So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.

The System thought about it for a few moments.

Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.

“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”

He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.

“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.

Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System.  It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”.  He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.

As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.

“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.

“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.

Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room.  It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds.  Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled. 

“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.

Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.

“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan.  With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.

This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted.  The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.

Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.

“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.

He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone. 

“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.  

Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape.  She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.

“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.

To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!

“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”

---

I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.

It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times.  Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System.  It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.

“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy!  My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year.  I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”

He handed me the image.

My father was, technically, in the image.  A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair.  Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.

“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”

“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing). 

“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”

Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked  car?” he asked suspiciously.

“The very same.” Dad grinned.

“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”

---

I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!

[chilschuck]

May i requests imagines for chilchuck with an s/o that kisses rough? Not sexy biting rough but like those big dogs that throw themselves at their owners lmao!! Id like to see how youthink chilchuck would react ♡

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ this is so cute WAHHH!!! i hope i did it how you wanted, i took rough as more so messy and sloppy, which i thought would be fun to write!! i hope you enjoy anon, and so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you!!!

— CHILCHUCK HCS: x reader who gives messy kisses.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ sfw + gn!reader! fluffy goodness.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 550

✦ i’m still working on requests from april, so i’m so sorry to those of you who are still waiting for theirs!! i will get them out soon, i promise!! (;;w;;) lots of love to you and i hope you enjoy!!! <333

✦ Chilchuck isn’t sure what to think the first time you pull him in with messy kisses. I can imagine it’s a bit shocking to him to suddenly have his nose, cheeks, and lips smothered with smooches like that, so expect him to stop and process that for a moment.

✦ Once his cheeks are done burning and his nose is finished crinkling up, he’ll complain and grumble about it for sure. Be prepared for Chil to wave you off and act like he didn’t like it. (We all know he did.)

✦ Imagine approaching him as he works on something at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration. You just can’t help but pull his face to you, licking your lips before he can utter a word and absolutely splaying kisses all over him. In between each obnoxious kissing sound is his voice complaining about the sudden barrage. You can’t help it, you tell him after. He’s just so handsome!

✦ It gets to the point where he hears you approach and he jumps, eager to defend his face from your lips. You pout a bit about it once, telling him you’ll stop giving him those messy kisses and he spends the rest of the afternoon silently thinking about the face you made.

✦ Expect him to get a little grumpy if you don’t walk past him while it’s just the two of you and pull him in for kisses. We know how this man is with affection, but imagine suddenly stopping your ministrations and leaving him with none at all. Chilchuck is going to eventually complain that you shouldn’t stop giving those to him. (Even if he acts like he doesn’t like it.)

“Hey.” His voice was softer but still a bit rough around the edges, pulling your attention from the task you busied yourself with.

“Can you… Do that thing you usually do?” Chilchuck continues after swallowing down his pride, that line between his brows appearing from how hard he’s furrowing his brow.

You blink, wracking your brain for what he could possibly be asking. Finally, he lets out a frustrated sigh, grumbling a quiet, “The kisses, idiot.”

That gets you smiling. Stretching your arms out towards him, you give that mischievous look you always do before decorating his face with your lips. Chil moves between your legs as you press kiss after messy kiss along the light spray of freckles across his nose and cheeks, trailing them down to finally meet his lips. You are pleasantly surprised at how much he reciprocates in that moment.

✦ If you haven’t seen him for a long time and the first thing you do is pull him into a flurry of smooches, he’s going to get very flustered. Get ready for him to either grab your cheeks and pull you to his lips or for him to groan out as you speckle his cheeks in kisses.

✦ Either way, Chil is affection and touch starved, and will never admit that to you. Once you find out just how much he secretly enjoys your affections like this, you never let him hear the end of it. He’ll always be on the receiving end of your messy pecks and smooches, even if he acts like he doesn’t look forward to it.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <3

[vivwritesfics]

Hi, I love your pet series its different and it’s so cute and funny to me. I wanted to requested a pet duck (the white ones) with Lance cause there’s just something about him but he seems like the type that would have a duck. (The image in my head is taking me out! 😂)

Thank you 🫶

okay took a different approach with this one so... lance is a rich boy, has grown up in luxury. His country loving gf changes that -- aka lance x lowkey cottagecore girlie

y/nl/n

liked by mickschumacher, and 94,182 others

y/nl/n ... we moved

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username1 only y/n could get lance to move to the countryside

username2 omg sleepy lance he's so cute

username3 how long until they have a literal farm?

username4 man is whipped

username5 get yoself a man who buys you your dream house when its the opposite of his aesthetic

username6 'opposite of his aesthetic' lmao

lance_stroll i love our little house

y/nl/n

liked by lance_stroll, and 102,457 others

y/nl/n first addition to countryside life

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username7 pls pls pls get cows

username8 lance with a dog im soft af

username9 can't wait to see what you guys get next!!

fernandoalo_oficial your next pet should be named after me

y/nl/n agreed

lance_stroll agreed

y/nl/n

liked by lance_stroll, and 105,674 others

y/nl/n lance and I should not be trusted with money

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landonorris lmao shouldn't be trusted with money

y/nl/n we're not ready for responsibility

lance_stroll speak for yourself i love our daughters

username10 omg their daughters i can't

username11 what are their names?

y/nl/n we named them after the grid, the one with the heart on her head is mick

username12 what's next?

username13 omg they need a farm cat

y/nl/n

liked by lance_stroll, and 135,968 others

y/nl/n i call them lance's ladies

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username14 omg they're lances ladies

lance_stroll oh my ladies look so good

y/nl/n thank you, lancey poo

lance_stroll ... my ducks

username15 where do I find a lance?

y/nl/n he's for sale if you want him

lance_stroll if i leave my ladies are coming with me

y/nl/n love you lancey

y/nl/n

liked by lance_stroll, and 163,540 others

y/nl/n lance's girls get treated so good

view all comments

lance_stroll that's all my girls (including you)

username16 id do anything ANYTHING for lance stroll to call me his girl

username17 am i more jealous of y/n or the ducks

username18 idk im swaying towards the ducks

username19 does grandpa stroll ever visit the farm babies?

username20 acc the cutest family

username21 has the rest of the grid met their animals yet?

username22 idk i feel like mick or esteban have

y/nl/n

liked by lance_stroll, and 230,058 others

y/nl/n lil slice of heaven

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username23 ugh they're living their best lives and im here for it

username24 seb really rubbed off on lance

username24 WHEN DID THEY laGET CHICKENS AND WHAT ARE THEIR NAMES

lance_stroll next im gonna get you a pony

y/nl/n omg really? 👉👈 lancey poo i love youuuuu lance_stroll but also lets get more ducks y/nl/n deal

[quizzicalwriter]

i really love ur writing especially with any matt dillon character <3 i feel like u improved sm with ur recent fics too (or maybe i just like the angst HAHA) but uve always been a great writer, i love how u also include canon details and like realistic details (if that makes sense) but u just r really good with expressing ur words!! id love if u wrote smut like dally bothering fem!reader working a shift at the diner or something idk nonetheless ur writing is sosososgood

Cherry

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas makes everything better after a shitty day at work, most of which had been his fault in the first place.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Pain in the ass Dallas. Make-up sex, fingering, oral, all that good stuff.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words! And thank you for the request!

Word Count: 4.5k

Working at a local diner wasn't necessarily the high point of your life, working the closing shift even less so. Dealing with inebriated patrons, groups of teenagers, and the occasional male who stayed well past the hours of operation was your usual.

It was a cute thing, the diner, owned by a man who'd inherited the land from his grandfather. His wife had based the menu on her recipes, along with a few from her mother, grandmother, and so on. You'd worked there long enough to gain their trust, and if you were honest, you saw them more as your grandparents than you did your employers.

Dallas accompanied you on the busier nights, whenever he passed by and caught sight of the unruly nighttime crowd, he'd duck into the diner and give you a crooked grin before making his way over to the counter. You fed him, or gave him drinks, just as you did the remainder of the guys whenever you could get away with doing so. It was calming, and made you feel safe having your guard-dog of a boyfriend waiting by the front counter until you flipped the sign that hung on the front door.

While his presence was welcome, the attention it drew was not. Possessive streaks weren't something you prided yourself on. You trusted Dallas as anyone would their boyfriend, but you weren't blind to him either. Dallas was a man, a cocky man at that, his cockiness flared whenever a woman looked his way for longer than a second. Had he ever truly pursued someone other than yourself? No, but, you couldn't help your jealousy whenever a woman approached him with glossed lips and bright eyes.

Internally you thrived on him turning down each woman that came his way, although, much to your dismay, some women took longer to disperse than others had. Whether it was due to Dallas's charm, or their persistence, you weren't sure, nor did you have the ability to check during busy shifts, especially when a man who looked as though he'd seen conflict in the Civil War whistled from the other end of the diner.

"Miss!" He called, waving his hand higher than he had seconds ago. Truthfully, you weren't ignoring him, you'd had to run two other checks to nearby booths and had simply forgotten about him. "Miss!"

With a feigned smile, you peeled your attention from the woman all but draping herself over Dallas, her thin fingers splayed over his forearm. He smiled back at her, the sight made your stomach sour enough for you to partially crumble the bill you'd written up moments prior for the increasingly impatient man.

"Here's your bill, sir. I'm sorry for the wait, busy as all get out tonight."

Your apology was met with a gruff laugh, but he seemed to understand your plight as he followed your line of sight back toward the front counter. While he signed the bottom of the receipt, he cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him.

"Ain't no sense in apologizin'." He responded with a lift of his hips as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. "I get why your attention's elsewhere."

You opened your mouth to apologize, only to be met with the raise of his hand as he placed a few dollars down on the table, enough to cover the tab and your tip. It was generous and kind enough to leave you mentally berating yourself for not having given him better service. But, you ventured by the kind, almost apologetic smile upon his face that he had been in a similar situation in his youth.

Incessant laughter bubbled from the opposing side of the diner, the noise boisterous enough to pick away at your fading patience. You pocketed the cash, inwardly begging whatever deity listening for the grace to clean up shop and kick the girl out without causing a scene.

Their conversation continued, words muffled by distance and the clatter of putting away cutlery, although you tried your damndest to overhear it all. You began your routine of cleaning up house, a wet rag over your shoulder with a bottle of cleaning solution in your left hand. As you spritzed a nearby table, her laughter kicked up a notch, yet again.

"We're closing!" You called, giving her a feigned smile as she turned her head to face you. She returned your smile, just as you had given it to her, coarse and fake. You bit at your inner cheek as she turned back to Dallas, her hand lifting to rest against his shoulder.

"Hey, we're closed!" You shouted, tone louder than before. Dallas peered at you from behind her shoulder, face a mixture of shock and amusement. You were having none of it, not her bold and brazen behavior, his cockiness - none of it. You tossed your rag toward the counter, slinging the bottle alongside it as you moved toward them.

The woman, for what it was worth, met your eyes as you approached. The sudden eye contact left you stumbling over your thoughts, but as you caught sight of her hand still lingering upon his shoulder, all sense of humility left you.

"He's taken, did you know that?" You asked as you grabbed her wrist, quickly shoving it back toward her. Her smile faltered then, her eyes flickering between you and Dallas as she backed away. "No, I suppose you didn't."

All anger you had directed toward her vanished with each step she took toward the door, instead raising and flaring at the man sitting beside you. You turned, meeting his gaze with a scowl and a shake of your head.

"Seriously, Dallas?" You asked, although you knew no response he could provide at that moment would abate the growing ache in your chest. "You're an asshole. A real - fuckin' - asshole."

Each pause was accentuated with a shove of his shoulder, jealousy seething in your mind, burning your eyes with tears you refused to let him see. You could tell from the sudden switch of emotion on his face, albeit blurred from your tears, that he hadn't meant to hurt you. His hands grabbed your forearms, holding you steady whilst simultaneously shielding himself from your jealousy-fueled tirade. You were in no mood for his touch, so you pulled away from it with a grunt.

The sooner you finished closing up shop, the sooner you'd be away from him. Those words rang in your mind as you walked away from him, repeating with each step as though it were a mantra.

It was shitty; your jealousy, his cockiness, it was a toxic mix that neither of you relished in. You had known going into your relationship with Dallas how he handled interactions with women, you knew where his loyalties were, yet some part of you continued to twist and sour with each look his way.

Maybe it was the extra shifts you'd taken at the diner, the fewer hours you were able to spend by his side, being reassured by his touch and his words. Whatever it was, you hadn't the patience to linger on it, all you wanted to do was wallow in your anger - so, you did.

"Doll!" He called, although he was met with no answer as you tossed unclean plastic menus onto the countertop. You could hear him walking toward you, swearing under his breath, yet you continued to ignore him as you snagged your house keys from underneath the counter.

"Christ's sake, I didn't say a damn thing to the broad!"

"That's not the point." You sighed, shaking your head as you spoke, fingers blindly fumbling with your keyring as you neared the front entrance. "Not the point at all, and you know it."

Once your fingers had found the key to the front door, you hastened your pace, not necessarily wishing to have an argument with Dallas in the middle of the night. Dallas, however, absolutely seemed up to the challenge. He stood behind you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a heavy scowl on his face as he watched you lock the place up.

"Explain it to me then." He whispered, and for a second you believed him to be apologetic. "'Cause this attitude, it ain't helpin' your cause."

And then he ruined it.

You swirled on your heel, months of pushed-aside irritation bubbling to the surface. You weren't one for confrontation, never had been, it was a sore point for you. You quickly pocketed your keys, hands gripping the middle of your jacket, tugging it snug around your middle.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" You asked. "You could've shooed her away, told her you were with someone. And yet, you- you entertain it."

The words would've rung home for anyone willing to listen, but Dallas, with his stubborn ways, only cocked his head to the side and gave you a lopsided grin.

"I'm not interested in other women." He responded, taking a step closer to you. "I can't help who talks to me, doll. I ain't entertaining anything, you know that."

Did you? Maybe, but in your jealousy-fueled haze, you refused to admit your part in the misunderstanding. He lifted his right hand from his pocket, placing it against your upper arm, thumb gently rubbing along the fabric of your jacket.

"Do you worry about me?" He asked with a duck of his head, trying to center your attention back on him. "Worry about me talkin' to other girls?"

You nodded, and instead of snickering, he pulled you forward. You thudded against his chest, the sudden move knocking a bit of wind from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you as he laughed out an apology, the sound soft, the words genuine.

"Still an asshole." You murmured, resting your cheek on his chest as your hands grasped onto the back of his jacket. You felt him nod, chin atop your head, his hands smoothing up your back.

"I know." He replied. "At least let me drive you home, alright? Even if you're pissed."

"Not pissed." You assured, leaning back from the embrace to meet his gaze. "Might have overreacted."

Dallas clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyebrows screwing together as he nodded his head back. "No," he chuckled. "I would've done the same if some guy talked to you."

The thought made you smile, not that you hadn't seen Dallas's protective side flair. You were both territorial over each other, and there was nothing necessarily wrong with that as long as the feelings were reciprocated - which they were in their entirety.

"Ever notice how empty this lot is at night?" He commented, snapping you from your mind with a gentle squeeze of your hip. "Hardly any cars pass by, somethin' I noticed after a few nights sittin' by the counter."

Dallas hadn't been wrong, not in the slightest. In truth, you would've been surprised if you'd caught anyone lingering in the parking lot after closing. Your town wasn't quiet by any means, but the diner had been built around, years of infrastructure hiding it amidst a cluster of run-down businesses.

With a hum, you leaned into his side. "Guess you're right." You replied, tilting your head back to give him a squinty-eyed smile, on account of the nearby flickering lot light.

"Could make you feel better." He whispered. "On account of earlier, or whatever."

You snickered, rolling your eyes at his blatant suggestion, yet for all its crudeness, you couldn't deny the stir you felt in your lower stomach.

"You're filthy." You chided, nudging his side with your elbow.

Dallas huffed out a laugh, his arm looping around your back. "C'mon," he urged as he began walking, leading you toward his car. "Ain't wasting the opportunity to make you feel better."

Mere moments had passed before you were both clamoring into the back of the Thunderbird, limbs bumping into limbs, soft laughter echoing inside the vehicle as Dallas reached over your middle to pull the door shut. As soon as the door had shut, your lips were on his, your hands blindly fumbling with the front of his jeans.

You'd just gotten the button undone when his hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back as he pulled away from your kiss. You were left pouting, the sight adorable and pitiful enough to pull a laugh from Dallas as he set your hands down in your lap.

"This is for you, not me. Let me make you feel good."

Dallas focusing his sole attention on you? On pleasing you, no less? How could you refuse? Elated laughter bubbled in your chest as his hands slid up and underneath your skirt, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You helped him with a gentle lift of your hips, allowing him to hook his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, before slinking the fabric down your legs.

"You're going to cum on my tongue." He stated, tone full of nonchalance as he tossed your underwear toward the front of the car. "And, I want you over me when you do."

"You want me to sit on your face?" You asked, lips quirking up into a smile as you bit back laughter, truly believing he was joking. "Is that what you're asking me?"

Dallas only nodded, and only then did the realization of his request register in your mind. Heat prickled at the nape of your neck, spreading forward until it encompassed your chest in a deep blush. Sensing your nerves, Dallas's thumbs rubbed gentle circles above your hip bones, his head ducking down to meet your avoidant gaze.

"Hey," he whispered. "Ain't nothin' I haven't seen before. It'll feel good, doll, promise."

So, you allowed him to help you into a position that didn't have both of you groaning in discomfort. Maneuvering into a position where you straddled his shoulders, in the back of an already narrow car, wasn't exactly the easiest to accomplish. Somehow, you both managed, mostly thanks to Dallas's hands keeping you steady as you moved over him.

The chill of his silver rings bit into your thighs, keeping you sunk in the present, hovered over him as he looked up at you from below. There was nothing other than pure, unadulterated lust pouring from his eyes, pupils blown so heavily there was only a crescent of color visible. His fingers tapped, once and then again, a nonverbal request for you to lower yourself.

So you did.

He met you halfway, tongue licking a fat stripe up your cunt, delving between your folds to collect your essence against his tastebuds. He wanted to savor you, that much was readily apparent by his hardened grasp on your thighs, all but cementing you atop his face. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as a plethora of broken-off moans tumbled past your lips.

You begged for him, murmuring his name between praises lost on your ears, but not his. Each word, no matter how garbled by pleasure, left his hips rutting up into the air as he circled his tongue around your clit. Your hips moved in synchrony with his tongue, adjacent swirls, and he let you. He had always favored dominance, being in control of the situation, but having you atop him had him praising every divine figure he could conjure in his lust-riddled mind.

“Dallas-“ You crooned, the noise so sweet it pulled a moan from his chest, the vibration left directly against your aching cunt. You smiled, a mixture of a laugh and moan leaving you as your hands raked through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “So good, Dal.”

With an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, he pulled away. It was for a fraction of a second, needed to slip his right hand between your thighs, but you were left whining and pouting. He tutted from between your thighs, lips, and chin glistening with your cum.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered as his middle and ring fingers pushed inside of you, delicately curling to brush against a spot that had your thighs clamping down around him. “It'll feel good, I promise.”

His left hand squeezed your hip, guiding you just as he would if you were riding him. You unconsciously followed his guidance, sliding down onto his fingers, before raising yourself, only to repeat the motion over, and over. Lewd squelches sounded from between your thighs, your cunt dripping a mixture of cum and saliva down onto his palm.

“See?” He asked through a breathy laugh, quickly resuming his position between your thighs. “Told ‘ya I’d make you feel better.”

You wanted to berate him for his cockiness, you truly did, but the feeling of his lips encircling your clit left you breathless. If anything, any ridicule would’ve turned into a garbled mess of his name.

A groan of a laugh reverberated in Dallas’s chest, yet he never pulled away. His tongue lapped at your clit, intervals of swirls and sucks following each grunt he managed to sound out. The sounds were carnal, stoking the steadily building flame in your lower stomach. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, pulling him closer, yourself closer. In truth, you weren’t sure if he could breathe, but neither of you moved from where you were.

“That’s it, doll.” He rasped, words hardly audible, muffled from your cunt. You managed a sighed moan in response, your hips rolling, sliding your cunt against his tongue. His fingers thrusted into you, mimicking the tempo of his eager tongue, each lap and circle of the muscle pushing you closer to the edge.

The uptake of an octave, your head rolling back as your eyes squeezed shut; Dallas knew each instinctual move of your body by heart. His eyes stayed locked on you, memorizing the sight of you coming undone above him, riding his face like a woman starved. His free hand lifted from your hip, curving around the plush of your ass, knowing he needed a tight hold on you to keep you steady.

“Dal-“

There it was, the familiar beckon of his name. His cock strained against the confines of his boxers, tip leaking precum, smearing against the now dampened fabric. His thighs tensed as his hips rolled, desperately seeking some form of reprieve as your cunt twitched around his fingers. Instead of verbalizing his reply, he squeezed the swell of your ass, wordlessly urging you to cum.

White-hot pleasure seared your veins, unconsciously twitching your limbs, tightening your hold on his hair. Your cunt spasmed, clit throbbing against his circling tongue. You cursed under your breath, eyes squeezed shut, mind solely focused on the ecstasy overtaking your body. Dallas grounded you with slow brushes of his hand along your thigh, fingers still inside of you, lips placing gentle kisses on your oversensitive clit.

“Alright?” He asked, tone rough enough to pull a surprised laugh from you. You nodded, threading your fingers through his hair.

“More than alright.” You replied. “Way more.”

Instead of hovering over his face for another second with wobbly legs, you moved yourself back, giving Dallas enough time to situate himself upright. His hands found your hips quickly after, gently guiding you back to his lap.

In an almost instinctive move, you lowered yourself to place your lips on his. His hands slid around your back, fingers absentmindedly grabbing at the fabric of your uniform as his lips moved with yours.

You braced yourself against the rear windshield, the slick condensation gathering in the palm of your hands, smearing your fingerprints down the pane as your lips moved against his. If anyone had passed by, anyone at all, they would've gathered what you both had gotten up to.

Neither of you could bring yourself to care, not when Dallas slipped his hands underneath the back of your shirt, his fingernails scraping along the curve of your back to have you closer as he sucked your tongue.

Your lips curved into a smile at the move, the lucrative, nearly addictive slide of his tongue against your own. He knew you, knew your body and how to make it tick. Your hips rocked against his lap, causing his already hard cock to twitch and pulse against the confines of his jeans.

"You're still hard," you rasped into the kiss, "I can make you feel good, too."

He groaned, his eyebrows knitting together as his hips bucked up into you. You bit at your bottom lip as you moved your hands from the rear windshield, letting your now cool skin slide down his front, keeping your eyes locked with his as you unzipped his jeans.

His lips parted in a silent moan as your hand slipped underneath the hem of his boxers, your fingers curling around the thick base of his cock. You could feel each twitch of his cock beneath your palm, the skin slick and warm, coated in his precum. You slid your hand up, leisurely pumping him, the act enough to have him grunting out your name.

You savored each lecherous moan that fell from his lips. With a shift of your hips, you centered yourself over his thigh, rolling your hips down in tandem with each stroke of his cock. You knew you were dampening the denim, soiling it, yet all you saw reflected in Dallas's eyes was the same debauchery you held heavy in your mind.

“Fuck me.” You begged, tired of the hassle, of denying yourself the most innate of pleasures. He relented with a lift of your body, allowing his hard cock to slide along your folds, catching against you. You watched as he lowered you onto him, his cock sliding into you deliciously slow.

Thin, red lines followed his nails as they dragged up the skin of your thighs, coming to a halt at your hips where he steadied you. You could feel his cock pulse inside of you, twitching just before your cervix. You watched him with bated breath, allowing him to guide each movement of your hips, and he did so with precision.

"So tight," he murmured, eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of pure lust and concentration, as though the mere sight of you atop him would undo him if he gave into it. "So fuckin' good."

All you could muster was a moan in response, your hips rolling forward, each forward motion brushing your clit against his lower stomach. Your thighs strained, muscles burning, yet you paid them no mind in favor of the persistent push of Dallas's cock, the way his tip brushed against your g-spot with each shift of his hips.

His eyes flitted, sight torn between your breasts and the needy, desperate look in your eyes. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet against the floorboard, giving himself enough stability to thrust upward, pushing himself deeper than before.

The shift in position forced the air from your lungs, a pitiful, broken-off mess of a moan passing your parted lips as you grasped his shoulders. He whispered something to you, but whatever it was had been lost on your muddled mind in favor of the budding feeling of ecstasy coiling in your lower stomach.

"Dallas-" You whined, the urgency in your call not lost on him. He nodded, wetting his lips as he rolled his hips upward. You could feel your arousal dripping between your thighs, smearing along your skin as well as his, coating his lower stomach in your cum.

"That's it, doll." He whispered, his left hand moving between your thighs to circle his thumb around your clit, rhythm syncing with each pump of his hips. "C'mon, cum for me."

Ecstasy coiled tight in your stomach, and with each swirl of his thumb and pump of his cock, you felt it twist tighter and tighter. Your hands moved from his shoulders, fingers threading through the back of his hair where you pulled. His mouth fell open, eyebrows lifting as an expression of shock-induced euphoria crossed his face.

So, you pulled harder, the harshness of your hold mirrored in the desperate way you fucked yourself on his cock, movements so frenzied you felt your muscles burning beneath your skin.

A deep, almost sinful moan rumbled in his chest. You swallowed it with a kiss to his lips, hands moving to his jaw as your tongue moved with his. His thumb was slick against your clit, and with a gasp of his name, your cunt spasmed around his cock.

"Fuck, that's it." He groaned, words strained as he teetered on the edge of his orgasm. "Let it out, doll."

Your lips moved from his, kisses trailing down his cheek, onto his jaw, before you settled your cheek to his shoulder, simply choosing to give yourself over to the onslaught of pleasure Dallas had you wrapped up in. Dallas's hold on your hip tightened as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched as his cock twitched inside of you, each pulse filling you with his cum.

You both shared the blissful silence that came afterward, the only noises being the occasional breath and whispered praise, the brush of his hands against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, words muffled by the press of his lips against your throat. "I'm sorry."

Apologies weren't common with Dallas. To his benefit, he hadn't done much to call for one, but this - this you appreciated. You nodded, leaning into his touch, his lips, with a thread of your fingers through his hair. He continued murmuring into your skin, you drank in each word, heart slowing in your chest, calming with the promises he spoke only to you.

His hand moved from your hip, thumb, and forefinger resting against your chin, tipping your head up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together, skin coated in a thin veneer of sweat. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, yet his eyes never left yours.

"You're my girl." He whispered, and you nodded. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

You placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb, the sincerity in his words causing you to smile. He smiled in return, fingers splaying against your cheek where he held you gently.

"It won't happen again, alright?"

His words were soft, the sentiment mirrored in his eyes. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He met your embrace with one of his own, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, hands gently caressing between your shoulder blades.

"Good apology, been workin' on it for a while?" You joked, placing a kiss on his jaw with a soft bout of laughter. You felt him laugh, the vibration of his chest against yours.

"Nope." He admitted, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "You're worth a genuine apology."

"Sap." You teased, but your tone gave way to your true feelings, how much you appreciated his honesty, his words. He caught on, but never made it known, instead choosing to reply with another kiss to your skin.

"Yeah, guess I am."

A/N: Siri, play "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley, please! No, but seriously, I finished this piece with that song on repeat. Alas, I am not dead! I won't lie, I've suffered with pretty damn bad writers block. Somehow, I finished this. I hope you all like it! Thank you for your continuous support of me and my work, I value you all more than I could ever put into words! I hope this piece makes up for my time gone, see it as an early Valentine's gift!

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend part 7 (3.4k words)

Summary: Now in the custody of the Mexican Army, Y/N is transferred to an incarceration facility and meets her unexpected bunkie

Warnings: LESBIAN SMUT, filth but very loving :) Note at the end Link to A03 Links to part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

The journey to prison seemed never-ending. Y/N watched the world beyond from the small window next to her, watched as they traversed past dry, yellow fields, past abandoned gas stations. Past faded, rusty signs that were littered with bullet holes. She watched the world dim as the sun fell, the soft glow of twilight as the sun dipped below the horizon. The oranges and pinks shone so briefly but beautifully on the sky right before the darkness descended. The man across from her said that Valeria was in the van behind them. If there was such a van, it was way behind them and impossible to see. She only hoped that this misery would soon be over, that the cold metal bands around her wrists would be removed and she could walk free.

Only that she wouldn't. She and Valeria had reached the point of no return, that much she knew. The life they lived before - the secluded glamour, their intoxicating, opulent love - vaporised into nothingness. They cheated the world all these years and pretended that the truth wouldn't - couldn't - reach them. That the world would forget about their queer domesticity, their illegal lifestyle. Illegal because that lifestyle was funded entirely by drug money and violence. But the balancing scales finally tipped and Valeria would get what the world believed she deserved. And seemingly, the drugs were only part of the picture. Missiles. Terrorism. You'd heard those words scattered in conversations relating to Valeria and they made you shudder. There was a darkness that, so far, had lived on the periphery of your life with Valeria. A darkness that could be suppressed, that you could pretend was not really there. You pretended that the diamond jewels Valeria dressed you in were bought with honest money. Pretend that the men brought to the tunnelled rooms beneath your house were there for job interviews, not for interrogations. Pretended that Valeria's cars were made with heavy doors because it was her personal taste, not because she needed bulletproof transportation.

These fictions were no longer tangible, no longer capable of retaining their glamour. You and Valeria would have to pay for all of it, finally. Y/N knew that one of these days her tears would fall and she would not be able to stop them.

It was all mechanical after that. The van approached a looming structure of concrete and barbed wire, of guard towers and dogs. The van was checked and allowed to enter. Y/N shrank away from the gazes of all these men. The Captain across from her, the driver, the guards, the soldiers waiting beyond. The door was opened and you were flung out, shackles and all. The Captain put his arm through yours, a precaution in case you tried to escape. It almost made you laugh. There was nowhere to run to and all these men were impossible to run from. "No papers?" A guard asked the Captain, his eyes raking over your form. You became acutely aware of your attire, the pyjamas, and how they contrasted with the uniforms of these men. Your light, thin pyjamas were built for comfort and aesthetics. And their kit, bulky and covering every inch of them, was built for battle. "No, sir. Special case. Courtesy of General Shepherd." The Captain nodded to him knowingly. It felt illegal that they would jail you without even a passport or some form of ID, but you didn't dare say anything. You weren't sure what rights you had, if you had them. The process beyond that was glaringly odd. You entered what looked like the reception of the facility. Your pockets were checked - there was nothing. You were not identified but were given an ID card and a uniform to change to.

"Am I in prison?" You asked. "No, ma'am. Temporary custody, it's like jail." You stared at the uniform in your hands, then back to the guard. "Why am I wearing this then?" He cleared his throat. "It's more modest, ma'am." "Oh," you said stupidly and changed. Thankfully, you were not searched for anything. It was nothing like the scary stories Valeria would tell you from those who were caught and imprisoned due to her operations. Of people made to kneel and cough in all their nakedness, of guards probing their bodies and leering. When you came out from the changing area, the Captain was gone, presumably because he'd handed you off to the right authorities. That's all you were to them, something to be passed off and transferred from point A to point B. Something to be processed and shelved.

The guard was waiting for you. "This way," he said and buzzed you into the facility. Greyness and coldness prevailed in this place. The labyrinthiness of it made your head spin, every hallway was the same, and every corner was like the one you'd seen before. The doors were the same, even the guards looked like the same person but multiplied. The reality of it all pressed down on you oppressingly, you held in your tears and followed the man. Your heart hammered in your chest when you heard the yells of men, muffled behind the concrete but hysterical in their intensity. The guard must've noticed the panic in your eyes. "You will be held in the private women's wing. Special case gets special privileges." He almost sounded hopeful, but you weren't sure if the final part was meant to make you feel any better about your situation. The panic did subside, however. Another gate stood in front of you and you were processed through that one, too. The women's wing, you presumed.

The women's private wing was completely empty, the cells clearly vacant by the fact that their doors were wide open. There were two floors and a guard post staring at them. No windows. Your footsteps echoed across the chamber, the silence was defeaning. "You're in here," he said and deposited you to one of the rooms. It was a small room scarcely furnished with a toilet and a metal bunk. A pillow, a thin mattress and a blanket summarised your belongings for the time being. "Do I get time in the yard or anything?" You said as you turned around but the door was slammed in your face. You jumped back. "That's not how jail works," he said and walked off. You stared through the door's window for some time, becoming self-conscious with each passing moment. Apart from the lack of freedom and the possibility of spending a lifetime incarcerated, you were troubled with the hygienic aspect of things. Can they see inside when you go to the bathroom? It was something you always wondered about when you watched crime TV and you now had a personal investment in the topic.

"Don't worry, amor. They won't peek through."

You almost fell to your knees. Your hand reached out in time to hold on to the door as you heard her voice. You didn't have time to turn around, her warm hands were already on you as she hugged you from behind. Her body emanated warmth as she pressed herself against you and you felt her frame envelop yours. Her warmth, the scent of her sweat lightly masqued by her perfume. Valeria's hands caressed your sides and travelled up and down your body, eagerly. One of her hands slithered beneath your shirt and past your bra. She cupped one of your breasts and squeezed as her face rested on your shoulder, lightly coating the side of your neck with breathy kisses. You always shivered when she did this and let out a shaky breath, carefully releasing a relieved whimper. You tried to speak but struggled to release the words coherently. Each attempt started with a pitiful vowel which was drowned by a hot kiss, it resulted in a cascade of pitiful, small sounds that were interrupted by the sound of wet lips and light moans.

Actions spoke louder than words with Valeria. There was no point in saying how much she missed you when she could show it. She squeezed your nipple sharply. You yelped as expected and she took the chance to enter your mouth with her tongue. She could feel your flustered embarrassment given your surroundings and chuckled as you tried to kiss her lightly and more quietly. She refused your demands and kissed you harder, sloppier; louder. You finally broke off, breathless. "They'll hear us," you said as she moved on to your neck without skipping a beat, kissing your jaw. "They left the post, baby," she said and moved to your ears. Valeria's tongue flickered on your lobe, knowing how ticklish her warm breath made you, how it made your whole body squirm. "Special privileges," she whispered and started nibbling on your skin.

"Baby," you pouted to her. A frenzied passion arose within Valeria. All that time she spent away from you, all that fear about your safety, the despair she felt when she thought she would never see you again; that you were hurt or tortured, that you were bullied and exploited whilst she could do nothing to protect you. All those feelings made her desperate to touch you, to feel that you really were there. To feel your soft skin and to see for herself that you were not bruised or hurt. With each caress and with each touch, she wanted to feel that you were unharmed, untouched. And with each examining touch, arousal glowed within her body, that special warm feeling intensifying between her legs. She missed you; all of you. One of her hands was blissfully busy with your breasts, moving from one to the other and eliciting many praises from your body; twitching and whimpering with all the stimulation. Unable to help herself, Valeria allowed her other hand to to caress your tummy, which she loved, and then lower to the band of your trousers, teasingly. You wiggled excitedly in her grasp, loving to see her so excited with you. "You're so crazy, baby," you mumbled and delivered kisses to her face. Her hand then went lower to your crotch, fondling that sensitive spot hungrily. You yelped in response. "What if they walk in on us, my love?" You asked her and wiggled your hips to escape her touches, fending off her wicked teasing.

"I already told you, princess," she said and continued caressing your sensitive spot with more intensity, following the rhythm of your hips. "They've all left their post." Hearing quiet noises escape from your careful control excited her even more, Valeria couldn't deny how much she loved moments where this dynamic manifested in your relationship. Her intense, playful teasing when you were not in an entirely private place. Your assertions of propriety and decency. How Valeria would persist with her argument and teasing, your eventual, blissful surrender. You remained unconvinced and so she pressed you forward with her body, making you peek out of the little window on the door. "Look for yourself, they're all gone," she said. You lifted yourself a bit higher and looked on. You surveyed the space and saw how empty it was, with no guard posted, and no cameras. You hummed to yourself as you judged the safety of the situation. You made a noise with your assent. "You're right, there's no on-", with no hesitation Valeria plunged her hand past your trousers and your underwear, her fingers reaching out to your sex. "You're happy, now?" She whispered to your ear as her middle finger found your clit and moved your wetness up and down. She felt your jaw tighten as she continued that movement agonizingly slow but with more pressure, making your hips press against her. "Use your words, princess," she whispered into your ear. "Yes, baby. I'm happy." You said quickly and breathlessly.

Valeria bit her lip and groaned quietly in your ear. "You're already so wet for me," she mumbled as her fingers moved faster. Her movements were sloppy and the contact with your skin emitted those wet noises that embarrassed you so much. She kissed your cheek and froze when she felt how wet your face was. "Baby, are you crying?" It was all too much. Everything that happened came back to you. The sudden kidnapping, the destruction of your home, the interrogation, your imprisonment and chaotic escape. You had not a moment to yourself to process anything before Valeria appeared. You loved her touch and longed for release, longed to touch her. And yet, your tears fell. "Fuck, I'm sorry." She span you around so that you were facing her. Her eyes widened with panic at the sight of tears falling steadily and silently down your face. She cupped your cheeks with her warm hands. "Too much too soon. You know how intense I am, baby." She pulled you in for a hug. You nuzzled your face in her neck and inhaled her scent, you exhaled shakily. "I missed you so much," you mumbled and held on to Valeria tightly. "I didn't understand what was happening."

Valeria cooed as she stroked your back. "I know, baby. I'm sorry." "I didn't tell them anything," you said. "I know my love, thank you." You kissed her cheek. Valeria moved backwards and sat on the bed. She pulled you close so that you were straddling her; the two of you kept hugging. It was one of the things that always made you feel better on a bad day, how Valeria would hold you like this and comfort you. How she would whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you cried or complained about whatever it was that upset you. "Did he hurt you?" You said as you lightly touched the dark circles on Valeria's neck. She tried not to wince, she knew who you were referring to. "I hurt him worse." She said and paused. "Did he hurt you?" She asked slowly, suddenly afraid of your answer. You shook your head. "No, he was just scaring me." Valeria released a relieved exhale. "You're a tough cookie, Y/N." You giggled lightly and Valeria's muscles relaxed lightly. "I knew you'd come for me," you said. "I'll always find you," Valeria said and you kissed deeply. Valeria was careful not to initiate anything given your fragile state, she only gave what you asked for. You pulled back to catch your breath and went back for a second kiss, then a third one.

You pulled back again and gazed into Valeria's dark eyes. She almost seemed drunk with her flushed cheeks and the way her eyelids hung low as if she was sleepy. But you knew better. "Is it true that you left Alejandro for me?" You asked. It wasn't the sexiest thing to say at this time, but the question burned inside you. Valeria never spoke about her romantic life before you. Even on the nights when you had a little too much to drink and felt a sudden spike of jealousy that made you ask, she never responded. You knew that if you didn't ask now, you'd be silent forever and the question would eat at you. You would gnaw on the chops of jealousy, licking your wounds for eternity. "Yes," she said in a husky, low voice. You kissed her again and moaned into her mouth; you were elated. The rumours were true! The satisfaction was so delicious and warm, you felt yourself glow from the inside like a firefly.

Valeria broke the kiss. "The day I met you...I'd never felt that way about anyone. I knew you'd be mine. You were made for me, Y/N." Her face moved close to yours, your lips almost touching. "Only for me," she whispered and your lips crashed. Your hands reached beneath Valeria's shirt and roamed across her back. You found that sensitive spot on her lower back that made her shiver and grazed that spot with your nails; she moaned. One of your hands continued roaming her back and swiftly unclipped Valeria's bra. "Did you feel like that too, Y/N? The day we met?" Valeria asked. You nodded. "It was like magic. You were so pretty..." You trailed off as Valeria removed her top along with her bra. She lowered her back so that it touched the bed and just lay underneath you, half-naked. Her nipples hardened as they were exposed to the chilly air of the cell, they looked beautiful and felt soft and warm when you touched them. "And?" Valeria whispered, enjoying how hypnotised you were by her chest. It was her favourite way of getting you quiet. "And...I was worried you wouldn't like me. You're intimidating, baby." Your voice was low as you continued touching her as you spoke.

Valeria bit her lip. "Am I intimidating now?" You shook your head with a smile. "No, you're so beautiful," you said and lowered your face close to her chest. Valeria held her breath. "I could just eat you," you mumbled and covered one of her nipples with your mouth, circling the soft bud with your tongue and lightly grazing it with your teeth. Valeria released a breathy exhale. You released her nipple and kissed the skin around it, warming up her chest with your breath and occasionally biting down hard enough to make her yelp underneath you. You circled her other nipple with your thumb. "You want to eat me?" Valeria asked so quietly that you almost didn't hear her. She sounded shy; you knew what she wanted. "More than anything," you said and trailed kisses down to her tummy.

You both fumbled with each other's clothes, you scattered everything to the ground and basked in your nakedness together. You lay on the bed and guided Valeria's hips so that she lowered her thighs around your head. It was pure, never-ending bliss. The two of you filled the room with your moans and gaps, making the metal bed squeak from the rhythm of your love. Valeria ground her sex on your mouth, one of her hands reaching down to move your mouth closer to her wetness as she sought her climax whilst the other reached back to pleasure your clit. Valeria's body glistened with her sweat, she was beautiful as she moved her body up and down, the soft parts of her body bounced ecstatically until she came and her body recoiled with pleasure. Valeria always came first, but you followed quickly after, moaning as Valeria's fingers penetrated your deepest core and sweetly hit your sensitive spot. With a muffled cry, you came on her fingers.

The two of you lay in the bed together for a long time after that, whispering in the darkness. "You should've seen the house, Y/N. It was in ruins. I thought you were gone for good...I don't know what I'd do without you." You kissed her shoulder lightly. "I'll always be with you, Valeria." She shook her head and sighed. "Fucking Alejandro. It's all his fault. I'd forgotten about him, you know. I forgot he even existed." Your mind wandered back to the moment he burst into your room. The rage in his eyes, the way he yelled as he grabbed you. "He's very scary. I can't picture the two of you together." Valeria chuckled bitterly. "It was complicated. But don't think about that now, it's time to rest." You looked at her anxiously. "What if they come in whilst we're asleep?" Valeria shook her head and tucked you in, pulling the blanket up to your chin so that you were nice and warm. "They won't, baby. Just go to bed."

You fell asleep almost instantly, the exhaustion finally caught up to you. Valeria's scent, warmth and steady heartbeat lulled you to sleep and you slept deeply knowing that you were safe in your wife's arms. Valeria stayed up and watched you for what felt like hours. She stared at your face, the way the faint glimmer of moonlight illuminated your skin and lashes. She watched your chest rise and fall. You were so trusting, so loyal. So devoted even as you hit rock bottom with Valeria, you could make the coldest jail cell glow with warmth. At that moment, Valeria really felt that she could be happy anywhere as long as you were next to her. She could sleep in the most narrow metal bed if it meant you'd be next to her. She kissed your forehead lightly before getting comfortable next to you, she did not dream of anything.

Note: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! It's my first time writing smut but I think it worked out nicely and we finally reunited Valeria with her wife :D Although this could be read as the end, I'll write one more final part to tie up the plot because you best believe Valeria and her trophy wife ain't spending the rest of their life in prison!

Tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp @@sae1kie @00ops1e @yaebaal @p3arlier

[adhdanalogbrain]

Video description below the cut.

[Video ID. View of a computer screen showing the ADHD Analog Brain tool. A person of ambiguous gender narrates:

Okay, a quick tutorial on how to use the ADHD Analog Brain, which is for anybody who struggles with executive dysfunction, not just people with ADHD. So. ADHD Analog Brain tool, go on the browser.

[Narrator reads first line of the tool.] Do you know what you want? Mmm... yes.

[Narrator moves the mouse to click on the yes button, and the page reloads to the next question.] What do you want to do? Well, let's see, there's a lot of options here. I am in pain, actually.

[Narrator clicks the link and the page reloads to show a new question.] What kind of pain are you having? Uhh, let's see, head, my head hurts.

[Narrator clicks the link and the page reloads.] What kind of head pain? Um. Well, I've got light, sounds, smell sensitivity, nausea, brain fog, and my emotions are absolutely farkakteh, so let's go with migraine. Click on migraine.

[Narrator clicks the link and the page reloads with a bulleted list of options.] And here's instructions on how to deal with migraine: Take your emergency migraine meds. Drink a full glass of water. Do all sorts of stuff.

[Sound of dog whining. Camera pans over to a dog approaching the camera, wagging her tail and whining.] Ignore the dog, who is mad at me.

[Camera pans back to screen]. And let's see, I've done all these things, maybe I'll eat something.

[Narrator clicks on a link in the list, and the page reloads.] And oh look [laugh] there's advice on how to get food. And that's basically how the Analog Brain works [laugh] and now I'll let the dog out! [Caption over the last 20 seconds of video reads: Visit adhdanalogbrain.tumblr.com for links to the in-browser tool and the BOOK!]

[thehistoriccemetery]

hiii ... idk if you do requests exactly but if u wanted id love to hear about the companions w/ a werewolf reader ? maybe its a full moon and reader has kept it a secret until now . but instead of being in a mindless violent rampage they are just kinda ... dog brained

thank u in advance ... take ur time or dont bother if u dont wanna :)

BG3 Ladies x Werewolf!Reader

I finally got a day off yesterday and I used it to write for like 8 hours so enjoy your second day of content in a row.

A lot of people have asked for companions react to Bhaal smiting the dark urge and I’m working on it, but unfortunately I’m only on act 2 of my durge run. So that one will be a while.

In better news my Minthara folks can expect a very spicy piece at some point this week!

Shadowheart

As soon as Shadowheart sees you in your wolf form, she is terrified and runs away from you as fast as she can.

It’s only when you cautiously approach camp that her mother actually points out you’re a lycanthrope. She picks up on it pretty easily given her husband shares the same affliction.

“They don’t seem to be aggressive, though” she observes, slightly confused. She tentatively taps her legs, beckoning you to come.

When you happily pad over to her, she scratches you behind the ears and you give a satisfied smile.

She sits down on the ground and continues to pet your head.

Shadowheart is still curled up on the bed, unwilling to take part in any of this.

“Oh come on Shads, you must admit, it’s kinda cute.” Her mom says as your tongue lulls from your mouth.

The closest she gets to comfortable with you that first night is a brief game of fetch. She’ll throw the ball as long as she doesn’t have to wrestle it from your maw.

The game is over though when the ball gets too slimy for her liking.

It’ll take a little while, but perhaps it’ll grow on her eventually.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel doesn’t really know much about wolves or dogs, but she’s not particularly fond of the one that’s following her around camp.

She tries to pawn you off to Karlach, but you want her so she has very little luck with that.

When it starts to get really late, she starts to worry. Where have you gone? You’ve never been out this late.

She eventually puts two and two together and realizes you are the dog that keeps pestering her.

Once she figures it out, she just tries to treat you like your normal self, which is immensely confusing to your little dog brain.

Lae’zel gets very frustrated very quickly. It takes Halsin to calm her down and teach her how to interact with you appropriately.

Every time you do something new she looks at Halsin to tell her how to react.

You flip onto your back. “Can I just keep petting them here?” Halsin nods.

In the morning, she requires quite a hefty apology and explanation as to why you wouldn’t tell her about this.

Karlach

Karlach is almost too welcoming to stray wolf that wants to wander into camp. But it’s certainly not the oddest thing that’s come into camp.

She treats you like a normal dog at first, but after persistent whining and leading her to your bed multiple times, she finally catches on.

“You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf! That’s so cool!” She exclaims, but then her faces starts to grow concerned. “Wait, you’re not gonna flip out on anyone tonight, are you? Do I need to lock you in a cage or something?”

You whine and lay down on the floor.

“Aww, you’re not gonna hurt nobody are you, sweet puppy?” She sits on the floor next to you and rubs your shoulders.

She spends the rest of the night playing with you like she would any other dog, chasing you around camp, wrestling, and petting you.

That night she snuggles up next to you, cuddling you in her arms as you lay on your side.

You wake up just as you do any other morning, in her arms, fully humanoid again.

Minthara

Minthara is unsure what to do with this dog that keeps following her around.

You do your best to actually follow her commands to keep from pissing her off, but you’re really trying to get her to understand it’s you.

You wind up going to your tent and picking up something of yours. One of your shoes should work.

When you approach Minthara with the shoe hanging from your mouth, she grows increasingly agitated with you. “Put that down! That’s not yours!”

You whine and set the shoe down, putting your paw in the shoe to indicate it’s yours.

“Are you… a werewolf?” She asked, confused. You bark in affirmation.

She spends the night allowing you to follow her around, and, as long as you follow instructions, she’s actually quite fond of your dog form.

Most of the night she spends reading a book while occasionally throwing a ball for you to go fetch.

She doesn’t see the point of the game, but you seem to enjoying yourself and it’s only mildly inconveniencing her.

At the end of the night, you move to climb up onto her bed, but she stops you with an “absolutely not” and motions for you to lay on the floor beside her.

Jaheira

As a Druid, Jaheira can speak with you even in dog form.

Once you explain the situation to her, she rolls her eyes but smiles. She should’ve known you were a werewolf.

She doesn’t worry too much about you going fully into beast mode, as you show no signs of aggression or agitation.

But you do stink. And she tells you as much. She’s gonna give you a bath.

Your dog mind causes you to protest. You don’t want a bath. There’s no way she’s getting you in a tub.

It takes a little deception and some meat from the camp supplies to get you in the bath in under 5 minutes.

She cleans you off despite your constant whining and by the end you’re actually surprised you feel better. Less itchy.

She dries you off with a towel and you give yourself a couple good shakes.

Once you’re all clean and dried, she wild shapes into a wolf so you two can spend the night curled up around each other.

[impishjesters]

Jax x Female Reader adopting a cat

warning(s): nothing just some good ol' wholesome chaotic cat dad Jax A/N: I feel like Jax would have a lot in common with a cat, moody and mischievous to name a few... request: id like to request a jax x female reader where the reader like, adopts an npc cat for company, with jax’s reactions to the cat. maybe jax begrudgingly helps the reader care for the cat? :3

When you approached Caine with the question of if he would make you a cat to have as a pet he was only slightly confused. Like did you want a pet cat or like, a large person-like cat.

When questioned you simply stated you wanted a cat for company, you had one before and it just didn’t feel the same without your little feline baby.

Caine whipped you up a cat easily and suddenly you now had a next to no-maintenance feline friend that you quickly named Evie, a name you found quite hilarious given the situation that only confused Caine further.

Not that the name got used much, you called her everything but the name. Typical random cat nicknames, scoots, loudmouth, etc.

Jax had taken to calling her Bastard despite your complaints, not to mention it took several minutes to piece together what word he said through the censorship.

“We’re not naming her Bastard.”

“What about little shit?”

“The only little shit around here is you, my love.”

“Fine, smaller shit.”

Jax isn’t a huge fan of cats, he doesn’t hate them, but if he had to choose between a cat and a dog he’d pick the cat. At least it could take care of itself.

He helps you take care of the cat but he’s not putting much effort into it until one day Evie starts knocking stuff over. Jax learns that cats are also mischievous little shits.

So maybe he doesn’t dislike cats as much as he did before, maybe it’s just because she’s a digital cat that she’s got more self-aware than real cats. But he definitely feels a connection after that, little miss Evie is always his second in command when fucking with the others now.

It would be precious and wholesome if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s now using your feline daughter to start shit and freak the others out. (It’s easy to forget there’s a cat, usually, she’s with you and not so…tricksy)

Zooble likes to joke that Evie needs a better baby daddy. Jax gets dramatic and holds Evie close and protectively saying he’d die for Evie, and by he, he means he’d sacrifice someone else for her.

“You can pry my little girl from my cold dead digital fingers.”

It’s hard to tell if it’s a joke or not with how seriously he takes his role as cat dad, he does, however, like to fuck with you in saying that you’d make a great mom if you’re able to take care of Evie and him.

Food for thought.

“Where’s ya momma at Evie?”

“Where’s daddy hiding now?”

“Shit, I won’t tell your mom if you don’t.”

“You can’t just keep helping your dad scare the others, Kinger’s gonna have a heart attack one of these days…”

The whole family thing was a joke at first but now it sticks, both of you cracking jokes about how you have to save up for her college fund and all that good stuff.

“I work hard to make this house a home.” - Jax at some point in time despite the fact he doesn't work and this isn't a home... necessarily.

[theragethatisdesire]

HELLO FROGGY >:P you knew id be here im youre lovely little bunny…i wanna submit my own prompt for your huge milestone event!!

“youre fucking eren jaeger? are you kidding me?”

do with that as you wish rage!! ILY

hiiiiiii my flower ummm firstly this prompt made giggle secondly i found it a bit challenging so i decided to go digging through my wips and ..... i discovered the morning-after drabble for ti penso eren!!! which ik you just said eren and it doesn't say your prompt exactly but also like. the energy is there. and it's really funny. SO YOU GET A VERY SPECIAL ARCHIVAL RAGE PIECE THAT'S ALSO QUITE LONG COMPARED TO WHAT I THINK THE REST OF THE DRABBLES WILL BE........ i hope it will suffice <3<3<3 i love you???

"you're fucking eren?" x ti penso! eren<3 this is a little continuation of this

-

“How are we doing today, folks?” A perky waitress approaches your table, smiling down at all of you. You pity her, really; no one at your table is exactly in the mood to return her level of enthusiasm.

Logically, you know how you’ve ended up sandwiched between Eren and Armin, trying to ignore the daggers Mikasa’s shooting at you across the table, but in the haze of your hangover and the intoxicating presence of Eren beside you, you can’t imagine what you did to deserve this fate. A memory flashes behind your eyes of Eren pinning you to the wall, licking up your neck. Oh yeah, that.

You and Eren had eventually managed to untangle yourselves from the bed when Connie and Armin had joined the raucous banging on the door, and you’d each miraculously found an old tshirt and a pair of Jean’s sweatpants to wear. Your face had burned when you met Mikasa’s withering glare, Jean’s look of horror when he caught sight of his sheets rumpled on the floor. Armin had corralled everyone into brunch of all things, deciding on behalf of the group that the rarity of seeing each other outweighed the painful awkwardness of the situation. Connie had whined and stomped his feet, demanding Ubereats on account of his hangover, but after some convincing, you’d all been dragged along to the restaurant a block from Jean’s apartment. Your foot, still wearing your heels from the night before that do not compliment the pair of Jean’s pajamas you’re wearing, jiggles incessantly under the table.

“Um, hi. We’re good, thanks,” Armin breaks the silence to answer the poor girl, looking down at his menu with pink cheeks.

“We need mimosas,” Connie says affirmatively, even though alcohol is likely the last thing that will aid this situation, “two carafes, and keep ‘em coming.”

“Connie,” Mikasa says sharply, “do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Hair of the dog,” Eren suggests, nodding at the waitress. “Make it three.”

“Shut up,” Mikasa snaps at him. Eren balks, you don’t dare to look at him even as you snicker. “I told you two–”

“I am an adult, Mika,” for the first time all morning, you snap and finally interrupt her scolding. “Do we really need to do this over brunch?”

“Did you really need to do that in my bed?” Jean makes a disgusted face. Eren rolls his eyes, stretching his arms only to land one around your shoulders; god, you wish he wouldn’t do that, add fuel to the fire.

“Sheets can be washed.”

“I’m burning them,” Jean deadpans, eyes narrowing at Eren’s arm around you. You want to die. You want to shrink into a little hole in the ground and die.

“I got laid too, if anyone cares,” Connie mutters. Armin cocks an eyebrow.

“Before or after you puked in the kitchen sink?”

“Before,” Connie answers, unphased, “in that hall bathroom–”

“Can my apartment please stop being the sex apartment?” Jean groans, letting his head fall into his hands.

“Oh, like you two weren’t fucking each other silly back at our place,” you counter, pointing an accusing finger between Jean and Mikasa. Jean’s face turns bright red, and Eren’s eyes fix on Jean, narrowing into something lethal. Mikasa opens her mouth to snap back, but the waitress has returned, three mimosa carafes and six glasses on her tray. On second thought, maybe you do need a morning pick-me-up. 

All of you, despite your protests, fill your glasses to the brim. Eren pours yours for you, smiling down at you adoringly as if you were on a lovely date, not a one-night-stand-turned-hellish-morning.

“Want more?” He asks, holding the carafe towards your near-full glass. You shake your head, mouth pressed into a flat line, not missing Jean’s gagging across the table.

“Whipped already, Jaeger?” Connie teases.

“After last night? Absolutely,” Eren says with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, wrapping his arm tighter and snuggling you into his side. Your face burns even hotter, and you smack his chest.

“Shut up, Eren!” You and Mikasa speak at the same time. Mikasa grants you a small smile at your synchronicity; it isn’t much, but it’s a start, and you venture into what’s hopefully a safe realm of conversation that will keep Eren preoccupied.

“So Mika, are you excited for Eren to move to the city?”

Your attempt at peace doesn’t go the way you’d hoped; Mikasa’s brows knit into a frown, and she turns to Eren, who’s blushing madly. “What?”

“When are you moving to the city?” Armin asks, nose scrunched in confusion. You’re just as confused as they are, turning to face Eren.

“But you said this morning–”

“I am in a few weeks,” Eren says, sounding very much like he’s just spitballing, “I just need to talk to Zeke–”

“What about my music?” Connie looks aghast, hands flying out to the side.

“Dude, I can still rep you from the city, and Zeke might not even want to move. He’s all wrapped up with Pieck anyway.”

“When were you planning on telling me you were moving?” Mikasa narrows her eyes, glaring at Eren accusingly. You realize you’ve put your foot in your mouth, exposed what may have been no more than a passing thought in Eren’s head. You haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours, but you can read Eren well enough to tell that he’s impulsive, maybe to a fault.

“Did you need to get laid so bad that you got one whiff of pussy and decided to pack up and move?” Jean looks amused, and you want to slap him. Thankfully, Mikasas does it for you, thumping him between the eyebrows. “Ow!”

“Don’t be crude.”

“Maybe.” Eren, for his part, simply smirks, tightens his grip on you. Your heart flutters despite your embarrassment; even if he had lied to get you back into bed for an attempted round two, it was a flattering thought. “It would be good for the business, though.”

“Come to think of it,” Armin rubs his chin, “it really would. There’s a lot more musicians that need representation in the city than back home.”

“You rep musicians?” You raise your eyebrows, surprised. You had assumed the family business was something boring, and you realize you never thought to ask. Eren shrugs.

“Sort of. We’re still getting it off the ground.”

“He reps me!” Connie waves excitedly at you.

“Impressive,” you give him a little once-over, seeing him in an entirely different light. In the sober eyes of the morning, he’s still beautiful, hair rumpled and messy and eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, but beautiful. You force your gaze away from him only to be met with Mikasa’s eyes, flitting between both of you, a curious look on her face. “What?”

“Nothing,” she hums, sipping her mimosa but not dropping the knowing smile spreading across her face.

[roseeyes]

Hey guys, I’m new to writing this kind of fanfic so take it or leave it and let me know if you want more

Summary: Logan Howlett is your new roommate in a New York City mutant base. You want to learn more about him but he’s not ready to open up yet.

You just walked Into your new shared living space with your realtor bestie Amara who is currently trying to sell you this flat in the NYC mutant base.As you walk in you see two hot middle aged men sitting on the couch one with burned skin the other had fluffy hair and a chain around his neck. “Hi I’m Wade and this is Wolvie I mean Logan oopsie!” Wade is laughing while holding Logan’s whiskey up in the air Logan growls at Wade trying to get his alcohol back because he can’t do anything sober.

Hi im y/n Amara didn’t tell me id have two roommates . “oh I live Nextdoor Logan is your roommate but we will see each other a lot I promise” wade says, he looked you up and down taking you in he can’t help but notice how your tits are practically popping out of your crop top.

Amara says I’ll let you meet your new friends while laughing and walking away. you look to Logan first noticing his gruff and mean look softens when he looks at you. Logan slightly smiles asking you if you want anything to drink he usually could never get this hot and bothered over a girl but you were different he needed to know more of you . You nod while smiling you immediately know you need to get Logan alone with you so you could learn more about him.

“I’m going back to my flat but I’ll see you tomorrow wolvie and friend don’t have two much fun without me!” Wade says while making a sexual innuendo with his fingers. Logan scowls but you notice that he definitely has some sort of a soft spot for wade.

“Sorry about him” Logan says in his gruff and deep voice

It’s ok he seems really friendly. “if you can call that friendly” Logan says while snickering to himself.

When you go to sit on the couch you notice Logan’s claws and ask about them Logan explains he’s part of a group called the X-men you explain how you are also a mutant with the ability to heal in record time and you can’t die. Logan says that you should meet Charles soon that the X-men could use a girl like you which makes you blush.

Logan explains how this building was built to help protect mutants from the outside world and that’s why you both decided to start living there.

As you get to know some of who Logan was and the night went on you eventually stopped chatting deciding to go unpack in your room. The trashy reality tv show wade had turned on slowly blended into background noise while Logan fell into a deep snoring sleep on the couch.

You unpacked your cute mini shorts and your brandy Melville fits while thinking back to why you decided to move here to the New York City mutant base was it for work as a mutant hero or something more you needed to know more about Logan Howlett you knew that there was more to his story that a drunk cranky middle aged mutant wolverine. What was his story and how did he get those long metal claws?

You walk out into the living room seeing that Logan was still fast asleep noticing a long metal chain dog tag hanging from his neck out onto the couch.

Walking over you know that it must be a clew to who he was in his past. Without thinking you approach his snoring body to pick up the tag to get a closer look staring at it you see a number and his nickname Wolverine etched into the metal. What could it mean?

All of a sudden Logan growls loudly waking up his claws stick out one of them going through one of your hands you wince in pain the skin on your hand already starts to grow back. The chain swinging back to Logan’s neck. You try to calm Logan down wondering what could have possibly made him wake up in this way.

You hold Logan and try to tell him he is safe and that no one is trying to harm him after about ten minutes of this he calms down and you sit together at the kitchenette “I’m sorry Bub is your hand ok?” It’s fine you say as Logan pours you a cup of the leftover whiskey that he was drinking earlier even though you don’t drink you reluctantly sip it down to make Logan feel better.

“What did you want to see my chain for?”Logan asks. I was wondering what it’s for since usually people where those who were in the military. “I wasn’t in the military but you could say I did my time to get the piece of metal.” You could tell Logan wasn’t ready to open up quite yet since you had just met each other but it still made you sad that he didn’t want to tell you his past. “I’m going back to sleep now I’ll see you in the morning” you say while walking away back to your room. Logan looks at you with a sense of guilt and hunger in his eyes he’s never met anyone so kind and gentle before he feels awful for hurting you. Later that night you awake to hear the fridge open laughing to yourself hearing Logan get more beers for himself.

I can’t wait to learn more about Logan tomorrow you smile to yourself excitedly knowing that he will soon be an open book to you it just takes time.

Let me know if you guys want me to continue this or not because I already have a storyline in my head for this I also want to say that this will eventually lead to smut but I want to make it a slow burn also I will include more of wade. Xoxo

[chris-hallelujah]

English Love Affair | m.s.

Matt x fem!OC

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), pet names (baby, princess, etc.), p in v (protected), slight dom!Matt, foul language MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first time writing a fanfic since like 2016 and my first time ever writing smut. Please let me know if it sucks. This is a song fic based on 'English Love Affair' by 5sos. I have not seen this done before for the triplets, however there are HUNDREDS of pieces out there so if someone has done this please let me know. All ideas are my own and I do not give anyone the right to post this to another platform or plagiarize my work.

-

The Sturniolo Triplets had just finished their final show of the international leg of their tour. In order to give the boys and their team a break from the constant go, go, go of tour, it was deemed best to let them stay in London for a few days before heading back to L.A.

Somehow Nick had heard about a local club, The Black Dog, that was the hot spot of the night. Laura encouraged them to go, make some connections with other creators, and celebrate the ending of tour.

Flashing their IDs to the bouncer at the door, they walked in immediately being hit with the night life atmosphere. Loud music blasted through various speakers, the bar was humid with a smell of alcohol and sweat.

Matt sat at a table with Chris across from him, flirting with some girl. Nick had made his way into the crowd of people dancing after he connected with some friends he knew. Chris and the girl shared whispers and giggles back and forth while Matt sipped on his root beer, scrolling through instagram on his phone.

It started on a weekend in May, I was looking for attention, needed intervention. Felt somebody looking at me. With a powder white complexion, feeling the connection.

A suspicious feeling came over Matt as he felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up from his phone and around the room, locking eyes with a gorgeous brunette a few feet away.

She stood leaning against the wall with a group of friends. A short gold dress hugged her curves like it was handmade for her. She took a sip from her drink and winked at him in the process. He felt his cheeks flush a bit and a smirk come across his face. The girl said something to her friends and began to make her way across the floor to the table. Chris glanced over at Matt and then followed his gaze. Seeing the approaching girl, Chris grabbed the hand of the girl he had been talking to, gave Matt an encouraging pat on the back of his shoulder and went to the dance floor.

By now the distance between Matt and the mystery girl had closed. She smirked and flirtatiously took his drink from him and took a sip. “Well hi there” Matt said with a slight chuckle, “I’m Matt.”

“Ella,” she said returning the drink to his hand, letting her fingers linger on his a bit longer than necessary. “An American boy, huh? What brings you here?” She asked her English accent coming through despite the loud music.

Oh, yea I’m actually famous and just got done touring. How was Matt supposed to explain his travels without sounding cocky? “Uh, I’m traveling with my brothers. They’re somewhere out there.” He gestured to the crowd of people on top of the color changing dance floor.

“And they’ve left you alone? How lucky am I.” Her confidence made her radiant in the best way. Not egotistical but she knew she looked good and she knew she wanted whatever Matt had to offer. She took a step closer to the barstool he was sitting on and leaned into his ear, “since we already swapped spit on your drink, how about we keep this party going?” Her breath tickling his ear. He felt his pants tighten and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Oh yea? And what is it that you suggest?” The tension between these two was buzzing.

Before I knew it, it was serious. Dragged me out the bar to the back seat of her car.

Her hand wrapped around his wrist and she led him out the door of the bar. A black SUV was parked not far from The Black Dog. Matt opened the back door and let Ella climb in before following after her. He pulled the door shut behind them and as he turned back he felt her lips smash into his. She was kissing him like he was the air she needed to breathe and Matt was in no way planning on stopping her. Her dress had rode up from all of the movement which gave Matt the perfect access to smack her ass. She let out a small whimper and buried her head into his neck as they both took a moment to catch their breath. "Let's go back to my place, yea?" she managed to get out, "I only had soda, I can drive." Matt nodded and helped her climb into the driver's seat before getting in the passenger himself. Surely Chris and Nick would be able to get back to the hotel down the street on their own.

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

Next thing we were back at her place, a hideaway in Mayfair, all the great and good there.

The car pulled into her driveway and the duo quickly made their way inside, Matt's hand maintaining contact with Ella's waist. As soon as they crossed through the doorway, Matt spun her around and pressed her against the door. The lack of touch during the car ride was making them both hungrier for any sort of relief. Their tongues battled for dominance, hands exploring the other's body.

The story line was so ridiculous. Every single step had me begging for the next. Before I knew it, it was serious. Dragged me up the stairs and it wasn't ending there.

Ella pulled away and took Matt's wrist yet again. She led him up the stairwell and into a door at the far end of the hallway. They passed a few other doors on their way. "Do you have roommates?" he whispered, slowly becoming aware of the situation they were in and how crazy this may look to someone else.

Ella nodded, "Yes, Sophie and Emma. But they are with our other friends at the bar," she paused and checked the time on her phone, "They won't be home for a little while, don't worry." This was music to his ears.

"Fuckin' fantastic," he muttered against her lips. The bedroom floor turned into a mess of thrown clothes as they made their way to her bed. Matt laid her down and crawled on top of her. One hand grasped her boob as he kissed all over her chest, nipping and sucking, leaving purple marks. Ella's hands were digging into his back leaving red lines all over.

"Matt," she whined, "don't make me wait any longer, please!" He chuckled against her chest and began to pepper kisses down her stomach. He got level with the black, lacy underwear that was the only thing left on her body.

"What a shame, these are so pretty," he hummed before looping his finger underneath and ripping the fabric off. No, like, literally ripping them off. "I'll buy you new ones, whatever you want." He was already pussy whipped and nothing had even happened yet. He dove his face down and gave one lick from her hole up to her clit. She squealed and buried her fingers into the sheets, trying to find somewhere to put the energy that coursed through her. Matt's hands wrapped under her thighs to hold her steady. His tongue went to work with his nose brushing her clit with each movement. Ella was an absolute mess underneath him, moaning and crying out.

"oh my god!" she yelled, thankful that her roommates were gone. Matt was also thankful because the noises she was making were only turning him on more and more. He focused his tongue on her clit and inserted two fingers into her, pumping them slowly. The stretch burned so good as his fingers brushed the most sensitive spot inside of her. Her legs began to shake on Matt's shoulders. "I- I'm gonna-" she struggled to get words out.

Matt pulled away briefly using his thumb to replace where his tongue just was, "I know, baby, go ahead. Let me see how pretty you look when you cum." His mouth went back in between her legs. That comment was enough to send Ella over the edge. Her back arched and a string of profanities left her mouth with Matt's name in there a couple of times. He kept going, helping her ride out her high, only stopping when her legs fell limp next to him. Matt put his fingers in his mouth to clean them off as Ella tried to catch her breath. "Think you can keep going for me?" He asked. She nodded eagerly and pulled him back down into a kiss. Matt reached for his wallet on the bedside table and pulled out a condom, thankful that he packed one 'just in case.' He slipped his boxers off and ripped the wrapper open with his teeth. His breath caught in his throat as he applied the condom, finally having some sort of contact to his dick that has been hard for what felt like hours.

"Goddamn, Matt, I need you," Ella whispered in awe at his size. Matt made his way in between her legs and threw one over his shoulder. He slowly connected their bodies, trying to give her a chance to adjust. His head flew back as he let out a groan. Ella gasped as he entered her and she took a few deep breaths to relax the muscles in her body. "You're good, thank you for waiting," she said, giving him the go ahead he had been dying for. He began to thrust his hips into hers and interlocked one of their hands. She whimpered at the pleasure coursing through her and squeezed his hand.

"Holy shit, baby girl, you are killing me," Matt groaned looking down where their bodies connected. "You're doing so - fuck - so good." Ella began pulsing around his cock, approaching her second orgasm of the night. This was enough to get Matt to his peak. "Cum with me, princess." The room filled with Matt's groans and Ella's cries.

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

-two weeks later-

When the lights go out, she's all I ever think about, the picture burning in my brain, kissing in the rain. I can't forget, my English love affair. Today, I'm seven thousand miles away. The movie playing in my head of a king size bed means I can't forget my English love affair.

Matt had officially become unbearable to be around. Always catching an attitude with one of his brothers, hiding out in his room, and having no energy in their content. Not only did Nick and Chris notice it right away, but the fans were noticing it too.

'Has anyone noticed Matt seems off lately?'

'Matt has been in a weird mood since they got back from tour'

Matt laid in his bed scrolling through Ella's instagram. She had even posted pictures with her friends from the night they met so he had memories to look back on of her in that dress. His door swung open and Nick and Chris made their way in. "Do you know how to fucking knock?" Matt snapped.

"Alright, dude, what the hell is up with you?" Nick asked, ignoring the fact that they were clearly not welcome in Matt's room and making himself comfy in the desk chair.

"You just barged in here without fucking knocking! Maybe I just want some goddamn privacy and quiet for five fucking seconds!" Matt's voice began to get louder as he sat upright.

"Kid, you know you have been in a shitty mood since we got home. Is this about that chick in London?" Chris pried. Matt knew he couldn't lie to the people he cared for most. Even if he did, they would see straight through it.

"There was something about her - fuck - she's literally on the other side of the world. She's probably living her normal life and I'm stuck here not able to get her out of my head," Matt sighed. Sure, the two texted throughout the day, but surely she wasn't as down bad as he was, right?

"Listen, we wanna be here for you, dude. Cope how you need to cope. But we gotta figure something out for the vlogs, the fans are noticing and so is Laura. If this girl is truly something special, we want to help you figure it out," Chris said, as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Matt nodded, "You're right, I need to get my shit together. I'm sorry."

The brothers shared a productive conversation about Matt and his feelings and the vlogs before Chris and Nick left Matt back alone with his thoughts. He laid on the bed with his hands behind his bed, remembering how perfect his lips fit with Ella's. A buzz came from his phone on the bedside table. His hand reached over and brought the screen to his face. His mood lightened instantly seeing a text from none other than 'Ell <3' The message he read made his breath catch in his throat.

Call me crazy, but I just booked a flight to LA. I need to see you

[xjulixred45x]

heyyyyyyy!! so i saw that your reqs were open and thought id throw one in since YK- LOVE UR WORK!

and ik ive been requesting this kind of thing only (if u dont wanna do it for this reason, i understand!!) but- Could I please have a Yanplatonic Mephisto/Lucifer/Amaimon x Reader?

This time could you maybe do it with Reader being human, An exwire and completely unrelated to them at all. They hate demons with a passion, But somehow these mfs suddenly decide "yep, new sibling" and surprise adopt kidnap her?

Thanks for considering!! Love your work, Make sure to take breaks if tired!

-TML

YES!!!working on this kind of this is what make Requests so fun!Amaimon will be kind of funny to write🤣 thanks for the Request ❤️

PD: for some reason i imagine this Reader has some Shinobu personality? It's hinch.

Platonic Yandere Mephisto Pheles,Lucifer and Amaimon x Ex-wire! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, PLATONIC YANDERE, OBSESIVE BEHAVIOR, MENTIONS OF BREAKING READER, FORCED FAMILITY, the three of them TOGHETHER on the title is NOT enough warning?? Illuminati, Amaimon is Mean sometimes--

SPOILERS FROM THE MANGA!!!

As said above, (reader) has a very complicated past with demons, to the point of hating them.

It can honestly be anything, whether your family has been affected by the blue night, by District 13 or simply that your parents have been exorcists who have died in the line of duty.

In any case, (reader) ended up developing a great hatred towards these creatures and decided that she would become an exorcist, in order to get out all that pent-up rage.

In general, I imagine this (reader) as a quite aggressive person and has trouble opening up, so she gets her emotions out through outbursts of anger.

but at the same time he is very intelligent, he uses his environment to his advantage and knows how to take advantage of his resources.

He has what we call "street smarts"

I have no idea who would be the one to take care of (reader) during her training before being Ex-wire, although with her personality, she would run away from any caregiver she had.

(I think the only exception would be Angel because 1- he is strong like that and 2- they share a similar hatred towards demons).

(reader) manages to enter the Ex-wire class, and stands out both for better... and for worse.

First of all, her classmates have a difficult time trying to talk to her (even Shiemi) precisely because of her closed attitude, in addition to the fact that she has constant friction with Izumo and even with Bon.

and most importantly she feels something strange with Rin...

(reader) doesn't know what it is, but she already hates it.

The only one safe from his outbursts is practically Konekomaru (and the weird kid with the puppets, whatever his name is).

It is because of this very fuss that it causes that it ends up attracting the wrong attention.

Mephisto is the first to have interest in (reader)

Not from the beginning as such, no no, although Mephisto had noticed her completely wild attitude compared to her companions (which he found hilarious to say the least) I think it would not be the trigger for him to become interested in (female reader).

I think it's only until (the reader) gets to share her experience, her horrible past with demons, the pure, burning HATE she has for them, that Mephisto finds her very interesting.

Oh humans, so diverse and with many facets~

but Mephisto definitely liked how open she (reader) was in her hatred, that she wasn't looking for moral supremacy or anything like that, she just wanted blood and she loves that!

so he tries to approach in a very unsubtle way and see more of that side knowing how much she hates demons.

appearing out of nowhere in the hallways to scare her and make her curse him, appearing in his dog form in her room to parasite (and then being kicked out) and a long etc.

In this way he not only became involved in the life of (the reader) but also learned more about her in the process, giving emphasis to the growing obsession.

Mephisto wants to know more about this "problematic" student who has caught his interest, whether it is having her academic record or all the information he has and whatever he has, he is not satisfied until he has it all.

It's almost as if I had replaced reading manga with the history of (reader)😅🤣

In this way, now every time he ran into (the reader), Mephisto made jokes and pranks that were increasingly more personal, more intimate.

and that is very scary.

apart from the fact that he behaves in a more... sticky way with (reader).

and that is VERY obvious.

He greets you with a HUG or a pat on the head (no, he doesn't care if you bite him or try to hit him).

and he is even the first to ask (reader) to call him "Oni-chan"

(how fucking disgusting--)

Mephisto is like the older brother who constantly bothers you.

and it is very difficult to get out of its grip.

Do you try to go outside the bedrooms? appears in the form of a dog.

Do you try to go for a walk around campus? appears randomly. It is impossible to surprise him.

But he does have something like an agent that helps him keep (the reader) in line.

That's when Amaimon comes in.

Honestly, he wouldn't be interested in (reader) at first, even though his older brother seemed to have an interest in her.

So, when he told him to keep an eye on her, he didn't think much of it other than it was a nuisance.

While Amaimon finds the task of "taking care of (reader)" annoying, he can't really do much against his brother. Although I think that to have fun from time to time he would make some things happen to (reader) just to make her angry. Like trowing insects at her or even leaving Creepy ass things in her locker.

It's boring for him, better than being a hamster, but extremely boring, so he starts picking on her.

She clearly sees him and curses him every time she sees him about to do something "mischievous" to her or when she hears him commenting on how "weak she is" in training. He thinks it's funny to see her all grumbling.

although eventually it becomes more than that.

Amaimon seems quite carefree, but as time goes by, he takes his "task" of "protecting" (reader) more seriously.

After all, being so weak, who else could take care of her?

He is one of the first to kill for the "well-being" of (reader).

I mean, he can do it as long as it's not one of the Okumura brothers, let him have some fun.

at the same time that he begins to want to have more interaction with (reader) beyond making her angry.

fight, for example.

After all, there must be something about her that caught her older brother's attention. Maybe she has something that he doesn't realize?

although without knowing it he is only falling into the same obsessive trap as his brother.

Once Amaimon becomes a student, rest assured that he will be glued to (reader) and insist that they fight, but she either tells him to fuck off every time or tries to escape from his grasp, without success.

It's like the meme of "fight me You nerd ass punk"🤣

Although don't get me wrong, I think he would be the most manageable of the three, even the "best" brother as far as possible.

(Bonus if you are a distant relative of Shiemihaza, maybe it would explain why Mephisto likes to mess with you so much, to screw with the Vatican)

He already understood that he can't make (the reader) fight with him by bothering her, so now he's simply trying to "figure out" what the hell he does to get there.

although at the same time, being as carefree as he is, he doesn't have so much problem giving (the reader) some time alone and can even distract Mephisto for a while so that she is less irritable.

Amaimon discovers that he actually likes it when (reader) talks and doesn't just grunt.

He's like that awkward brother but if you do him a favor he'll have your back, more or less.

Because he wants you to spend time with him.

It makes (the reader) at least watch him fight if she's not going to fight him.

I think Lowkey wants to show her how strong he is because well, Ego. but it is also a way to measure the strength of (reader) by her reactions. And intimation

although I doubt this (reader) will be intimidated.

He is definitely the first to suggest eliminating (reader's) entire family if she has one left :)

He's not really a fan of (reader) calling him a brother like Mephisto, but he demands the respect of an older brother and at some point he won't let (reader) walk all over him.

Mephisto and him argue about whether it's a good idea to let him (reader) fight him or not, precisely because Mephisto doesn't want him to get hurt.

and Amaimon WANTS to understand what made him become so attached to her. Maybe by fighting he will understand.

NOW, THE MAIN COURSE.

LUCIFER

(reader) at first would only know him from certain mentions of Amaimon that came to nothing, but when the Illuminati's declaration of war occurs or in any case something related to section 13, she understands everything...

There's a small chance that Shima told the Illuminati about (reader) seeing how "close" she was to Mephisto, which would make Lucifer interested.

Why are his brothers so interested in a completely human student who isn't even related to them?

(reader: same man, same)

So naturally he makes them investigate (reader) to understand why out of nowhere his brothers seem so attached to a simple human.

Who knows, maybe it will serve the Illuminati in some way.

(ignoring the hypothetical case of being a descendant of ShiemiHaza) when Lucifer does not find anything really relevant in his search, he is more doubtful than before, but he reasons, perhaps the human has some kind of ritual that only Mephisto knows about.

There HAS to be something that makes his brother like this.

For the same reason, if Lucifer tries to ask Mephisto directly, he becomes very defensive, telling him to stay away from the students and especially from (the reader).

which only gives him more motivation to want to know more about her.

so 1- seeing that she really doesn't want to be with Mephisto and Amaimon orders Shima to recruit her or 2- (more likely) he directly kidnaps her during the declaration of war on the true cross :)

Be that as it may, (reader) ends up on the Illuminati ship more deranged than ever, and well, it makes sense, now they not only harass her, chase her and pull her from one place to another, but they kidnap her!

Even if Lucifer maintains manners and courtesy, as soon as (the reader) realizes that he is a demon, he becomes wild and tries to get out by all possible means, including jumping off the ship!

Fortunately, Homare constantly watches her and, to his relief, she is not very talkative.

But Lucifer is still quite confused. If this human has absolutely nothing special then why is he important?

although he understands a little better when Mephisto demands that he return his "sister"

Ah, so that was it. family ties.

He is the quickest to accept that (reader) is something like a new brother, so as soon as he finds out this new information, he goes to (reader) and demands to know EVERYTHING about her.

likes, dislikes, what her life was like, her abilities, her weaknesses, whatever, his most obsessive side comes to light.

and (reader) is so confused that she barely answers 1/4 of the questions.

Now, Lucifer is like combining Mephisto and Amaimon.

He is very protective, but he is not on top of (reader) all day (at least not the same one, Homare is usually the one who watches the reader)

He wants (reader) to treat him like an older brother and be referred to as such, but he doesn't force her.

uses a similar approach as with Yukio. He slowly attracts her so that she gets used to HIM.

but it doesn't mean it's not bad.

If (reader) still has a family, he will use them as a constant threat against (reader) to improve her attitude and behavior, he is not above killing them if he feels particularly jealous.

Although I think he would kill (reader)'s sibilings if she had them. After all, she already has him and his brothers, humans could never be equal.

He doesn't spend as much time with (reader) as the other two, but he makes up for it with PRETTY expensive gifts and things he knows she likes (from stalking her).

I think he would only return (reader) if a kind of agreement is reached with Mephisto, in which they both share (reader) and Amaimon goes with her when she is with both of them, that way Mephisto can ensure that Lucifer returns (reader) (reader) and vice versa.

I know this was about their relationship as brothers with (reader) but it reminds me a lot of divorced parents who share custody of their children... although of course, these parents are crazy.

going straight all together, it's not as bad as one would think.

Mephisto is the biggest pain in the ass, that's for sure. He is VERY POSSESSIVE of (reader) to an almost ridiculous point.

He likes to put clothes similar to him, it's a way of "showing dominance" and he likes to think that this way they seem more like a family.

Being with him prepare yourself for a lot of unwanted physical contact and to spend HOURS watching your former classmates suffer from his tricks and be left on the sidelines because you can no longer even carry a weapon...

INFANTILIZATION AT MAXIMUM POWER, he loves to pamper (the reader) and act as if she were a little girl, either because it amuses him to see her angry or because for someone who is thousands of years old like him, she IS indeed a baby.

he reacts VERY badly to rules being broken, if (reader) wants to save herself from punishment (most likely having broken bones, even if he speeds up time so it's not THAT bad, it's horrible) she should go to Amaimon.

He's the best, I already said it.

more than anything because he "understands" better the situation of stress under the thumb of his older brother and now he can understand affection a little better, even if it is still toxic.

but don't be fooled.

If he sees the slightest possibility that (reader) is going to leave him, then he will tell Mephisto or Lucifer to ruin any plan, that's how he is.

apart from the fact that he follows (reader) s everywhere to "inform" Mephisto and Lucifer of his well-being. and it is impossible to lose him, he has a connection with the entire earth and a great ability to find what he wants. Do not even try.

although as long as you give him some affection and treats, he's actually quite manageable, not clingy or overly jealous, just very aggressive and protective.

(another who would want to kill the reader's brothers when seeing them as a threat to their relationship).

and Lucifer...he's a mix.

he's not AS possessive as Mephisto, but he definitely wants everyone to know that (reader) is HIS sister.

He has great respect for the rules and he wants them to be followed, but when it is (the reader) who breaks them, he is much more lenient.

Be careful, I don't want to say that he is exempt from horrible punishments, if (reader) exceeds a limit of errors, then he will not be saved from one.

but Lucifer goes more for the Psychological side of things.

It makes (reader) believe that she is in control of the situation, a situation where she has no real advantage.

In this way he gains her favor but causes him to fall into his trap.

because HE is the one who is in control of everything. If (reader) goes far, it is because he allows it.

very protective, more than Mephisto, if it were up to him she wouldn't leave the Illuminati base, but at the same time he gives (reader) much more autonomy than Pheles.

It's very difficult to come to terms with him, but at least you can use his own sense of the rules against him :D

I think that the one most likely to break (reader) would be Mephisto, followed by Lucifer, these two would undoubtedly do it on purpose so that (reader) would stop trying to escape. Amaimon would only do it by accident due to his lack of knowledge of the human mind.

If (reader) develops Stockholm syndrome, Mephisto is throwing a fucking party! even LUCIFER would be happy (reader) has returned to her senses! and Amaimon would be happy but he would definitely miss the anger.

In short, it's chaos, but it balances out in certain curious ways so you get a little bit of each world.

Overall, it's a VERY fucked up yandere trio to be with, but look on the bright side! you will never be alone...

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

thanks for the request ❤️

ahhhh I loved writing this but I feel like some parts are messy?😭 or maybe because it's my longest fic so far?? I hope you like it and I'm sorry if it's too loaded!

[abnerkrill]

cliff legrand + dog symbolism

[benjamin bratt as cliff legrand in poker face 1x10, "the hook" / "the hook" script by rian johnson / the angriest dog in the world by david lynch / post by prettyhatemachinegf / benjamin bratt in "the hook" / how to be a dog by andrew kane / post by axetofall]

(image ids:

the first image is of benjamin bratt as cliff in poker face, with a hand on his forehead and a frustrated expression.

the second image is a quote from cliff in poker face that says, "When you follow somebody’s orders for 25 years, stand behind them and nod, advance when they advance, the man behind the man. When you do that, there’s a very natural impression to be had that you like the person. Even love the person. I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with dogs. When that’s reflected back on you by everyone who sees you as the man’s best friends, I guess it can go two ways. It can hook you, pull you in, make you start to feel something like love, or… or it can go the other way. Start to metastasize. And all the disrespect and lack of regard and all the ways you’re treated like a dog that seem to bounce off the obedient facade, no. No, no, no. It all goes somewhere. Right here. I hate the old man… The terms you’ve laid out proffer me more dignity and respect than I’ve gotten in decades from the Sterlings, so I am saying yes. Just tell me how deep to dig the hole."

the third image is a hand-drawn comic of a tied-up dog in a yard. it says, "the dog who is so angry he cannot move. he cannot eat. he cannot sleep. he can just barely growl. ...bound so tightly with tension and anger, he approaches the state of rigor mortis."

the fourth image is a tumblr post by prettyhatemachinegf that says, "biting the hand that feeds and leaving teeth marks that eventually fade causing me to bite the hand that feeds again and again and again in a desperate attempt to leave my mark"

the fifth image is of cliff lying on a hotel room bed with a frowning, frustrated expression

the sixth image is from a poem by andrew kane that reads, "you must lose yourself wholly in activity; you must never feel an itch that you do not scratch. you must learn how to wait at the foot of the bed and hope, silently, that somebody is drunk enough or lonely enough to invite you up, and you must learn not to show your excitement too much or overplay your hand. if you want to be a dog, you must learn to believe that you are not in fact a dog at all.

the seventh image is a tumblr post from axetofall that says, "he is like a dog who can no longer be touched without showing his teeth." end id.)

[barbatusart]

Do you have a recommendation for a specific book of your work for folks who showed up for your Bg3 stuff? (Also if you read the parts out of order would that be an issue?)

welcome aboard!!! thank you so much for checking my bg3 stuff out, it's a pleasure to have you

as i said in my other post over here, im predominantly an extreme horror artist! i 100% decline to call myself an eroguro artist because personally i dont find the kind of gore & horror i do particularly erotic, but im super fascinated with the horrors of the body & the darkness of the general human experience, so thats the kind of stuff i tend to make. it isnt the worst most heinous Ever you'll find out there, but im fully aware that it's A Lot, so everything i make with @meanbossart is thoroughly warned for so nobody goes into our body of work unaware & gets a nasty shock.

bg3 in particular goes some pretty dark routes (some bits in a dark urge run even made me kinda reel back and go "jesus"), so id say for people coming in from bg3 your mileage may heavily vary. if torture & really extreme body horror doesnt bother you, you may be OK with SAD SACK (sus.space/sadsack) and its current wip sequel SORTIE (sus.space/sortie), but i would still recommend reading each book's individual content warnings thoroughly before choosing to spend any money. (everything is paywalled to further deter minors.) if you're on the fence about how much horror content is too much for you, or if you're curious about these titles but find the content warnings to be concerning, my DMs on tumblr+twitter and my IMs are always open if you have any questions about particular CWs or even need specific page numbers so you can either skip that bit of gore or be informed enough to approach the page number(s), take a Deep breath, and proceed when youre ready! for these 2 titles in particular, unfortunately they do have a linear story, so to fully grasp what's going on requires reading the books in order. again if it's something youre curious to the point of wanting to try but on the fence about, i am always welcoming of inquiring DMs to help make the experience thrilling + chilling but Not genuinely upsetting.

if you're OK with a little violence and body horror but not as splatterfest as these titles, im currently chipping away at the preliminaries for my giant project LOVOS4017 (lovos4017.the-comic.org) which is a love letter to TNG scifi and 80s cyberpunk anime. im currently on pause with the roughs since last year due to COVID frontline burnout, but ive by no means abandoned it; this IP is my baby that ive been workshopping the show bible for for over a decade & i want to see it through to the end B)

finally if you would like to read our work but want to avoid gore and extreme violence entirely, we do have some stuff that is violence-free! POOPPIX@YAHOO.COM (suscomics.itch.io/pooppix) is a comic with a really bonkers premise but no violence and no visible onscreen poop i promise about finding genuine human connection over unusual shared interests on the internet. ATTACK DOG (suscomics.itch.io/attackdog) is also a short solo comic i did myself about sex, quasi-submission fetish, & the requirements of true love (theres some mild gooey body weirdness but no gore i promise)

overall i thank you for showing interest in what @meanbossart & i do! we tend towards strange & unusual premises and presentations, but i hope that you find something within our body of work that entertains you. if you every have any questions about anything, please please please feel free to DM me at any time; my goal in life is to entertain & provoke thought!

[maniculum]

scorpion in thomas of cantimpré's 'liber de natura rerum', bavaria, c. 1424. Vatican, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Pal. lat. 1066, fol. 132v

[Image ID: A bipedal creature with a grayish body and a tail. It kind of looks like a chicken in silhouette, but with tail and feet like a lizard. Its head is yellow rather than gray, and looks vaguely canine. At least if you had a dog who was bald, wrinkly, yellow, 100 years old, and in a bad mood about it.]

This is so extremely not a scorpion. If there hadn't been a couple of critters with this body plan in the original post, I would be completely floored by this one's existence. Even so, I'm still just kind of staring at it in confusion.

Like, let's be clear here, this is not what Mr. Of Cantimpre is describing in the text. He includes such items as:

A scorpion is a serpent, as Solinus says, which is said to have a charming and virgin-like face.

But it certainly has a poisonous sting in its knotted tail, with which it stings and infects any that approach it.

The scorpion is the only insect that has a tail, and arms, and a spike in the tail.

(I found a translation this time instead of fighting with the Latin -- this is from https://bestiary.ca/ . They admit that this is a machine translation with a human editor, so grain of salt, though.)

None of this is represented in the illustration. Like, Tommy Boy up there can't seem to decide whether this is a serpent or an insect (I'm going to assume the overly-flexible term worm is at fault in this case), but the animal pictured seems to be neither. Its tail is neither knotted nor spiked. You could maybe argue that those are arms. Not on board with the illustrator's interpretation of "charming and virgin-like face"... okay, I guess it's kind of ugly-cute, but that's a stretch.

Anyhow, points:

Small Scuttling Beaſtie? scale unclear, not enough legs, ✘

Pincers? ✘

Exoskeleton or Shell? ✘

Visible Stinger? ✘

Limbs? 2

Vibes... eh. It has charming aspects, but it has this bad-tempered expression on a face that I'm not sure how to react to. 3/5.

Total:

3.2 / 10

I have questions about the illustrator's tastes.