#stretching-buttonups

[stretching-buttonups]

I was so excited to wear my autumn shirt from last year... Do you think I can still wear this out?

[itsbrucey]

i got into your cave through an ask i saw on the btb tag that i've been stalking since the directors cut of season 2. also thanks for liking that cesare idea! i always think about that with the undead

So style. starting with the bigtop burger themselves, I got steve's style about right. jeans and buttonups. however i thought khakis. I don't imagine the buttonups to be super fun, but i did draw him in one outfit that is basically the same as an outfit Stu Macher wore in scream. It is the only button-up i think Stu wore. Billie in my heart is very typical 'grunge' with sweaters and layers, but pretty basic. She owns stuff that she doesn't have to think about matching, and mostly lives in basic prints like stars and stripes (i think she liked stars a lot) as well as dark colors. Steve wears the same thing every day, but I agree with your take on the no skin. I don't have any ideas for Penny so far.

I think Cesare is stuck dressing like an emo kid with the black layers to cover up the zombie thing as well as the perpetual bleeding. Also he is forced to look gothic since is he undead, so perhaps he'd lean into the style to look more natural. The only reason I said he dresses 'emo' is because it can be basic and he fucking hates having to dress like that so he puts in little effort. Maybe before he died he was more fun and flashy. I dunno. Frances I haven't thought of yet, same for conrad, though I think his zomburger outfit isn't too different from the normal style he would have. for doctor, I like to think he has piercings. I have more headcanons about his day to day life than style.

I'm about to upload a the outfits i drew, but here's the stu outfit i mentioned

AWWWW THANKS FOR STOPPING BY THEN!!!! I'm trying to post about Bigtop Burger more bc it's like. My favorite thing ever so I'm glad some people outside of the DnDads fans are seeing it :]

I really like your thoughts!!! Billie being grungy/alt is sooooo true.... I think she'd definitely be a band shirt enjoyer. Chunky sneakers. Baggy pants with fun chains or rips!! She'd be a dark flannel enjoyer vs Tim's brighter button ups and prints!!!!

If I had to think about Penny, I'd think simple, practical, and casual!!! Maybe it's my own bias bc she's my fav but like... As a mom who we assume is cheery, I think a lot of fun tshirts and mom jeans!! Cardigans and pullover sweaters too!! She has the CUTEST burger earrings so I definitely think she has more silly earrings and things like scrunchies!! She's very floral/simple print/springtime coded to me!

I think the Zomburger crew's outfits reflect what they'd normally wear more already, especially Conrad!! Francis and Doctor both have a lot of piercings to me,,, Francis definitely strikes me as the type to have a lot of cool jackets and like...handsewn/altered things. Doctor too but in a more "plain" way. Conrad...my wonderful. My beloved. He definitely just had tshirts and baggy sweats and jeans and sometimes one of those muscle shirts that have the side stretched open SO much. And he forgive him /j

( Emo Kid Cesare is so funny.... He'd make a killing on TikTok )

[spookedlev]

every fuckin time I watch a horror movie there’s a little worm in the back of my mind that goes “this could be a skullector doll”, so here are my ideas for the TCM final girls.

Sally Hardesty:

White bellbottoms with blood soaked waist and hems, smearing up and down

Purple tank ripped open in the back, with scapula, ribs, and vertebrae strung together to make a skeletal back

Platform sandals, with rope tied around the feet and ankles to act as the straps

Chainsaw chain hoop earrings

Stretch Brock:

Mostly a replica of her movie outfit but

The larger silver studs on her buttonup are shaped like teeth

Her shirt is blood splatter pattern instead of dots

stitched together leather jacket with bloody red fringe to imitate the edges of the LG skin mask

Maybe LG’s hat as well

Reuse Deuce’s belt mold without the chain, with the tape being green like the one in the movie

Bubba’s tie on her boot instead of the red kerchief

i have no ideas for this but her earrings and necklace should stay on theme too

[juliejones7567-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Plus size 1X metallic gold long sleeve button-up top satin stretch LLN.

[hellfireheroes]

☀️

It was hard when Eddie left.

The group had been tense as all hell and even though it was for the best, it hurt. After Vecna was finally defeated, Hawkins was finally deemed uninhabitable. Those who stayed were urged to leave and slowly their party was split apart. Steve however? Stayed.

For years he stayed behind just incase.

He applied to colleges again, tried to reach out to his parents to help with medical bills regarding his new disabilities. Of course, they ignored any of his calls and redirected him to his father’s secretary. The check from the government covered more than the costs of his medication, his hearing aids and his glasses, but he still worried for the future.

He saved money up and when he was accepted to a college? He left. Now. Here he was, listening to the hustle and bustle of a new guy being moved in on their floor. It was usually a huge deal when someone new arrived. Steve was definitely talk of the town for a short time, what with waking everyone up nearly every night with his night terrors and aura of sadness and loneliness, but he’s better.

Way better.

He set down his pen, rubbing his eyes clear of sleep and feeling the familiar ache of a headache starting.

“Alright, I need a break.” He said, standing up and stretching. “I’m gonna say hi to the new guy, you guys wanna join me?” He asked his roommates, a smile on his face. Of course, they declined and Steve simply shrugged, walking out into the hallway.

He made his way over to the door and knocked politely, making sure his hearing aid was turned up. As the door opened, he made small talk with the guy on the other side. “Yeah! I heard you got a new guy right?” He smiled, turning when he saw a shadow of movement an-

….?

He blinked, gazing at..

“Em?” He said, eyes wide.

Steve himself seemed way different. Dressed in a warm yellow buttonup, sun washed jeans and a pair of bright white sneakers. On his face was a pair of glasses and a rather expensive looking hearing aid in his ear.

On his wrist was a silver medical alert bracelet. “I… wow! It’s uhm… good to see you!” He awkwardly recovered some semblance of this conversation, a hand reaching up to scratch at his medium, now longer, length hair. “You settling in okay?”

closed for @hellfireheroes

College, who'd have thought a Munson would ever step foot on college grounds without it being to crash a party? Not Eddie that's for sure. Things hadn't been easy since leaving Hawkins, but they hadn't been all bad, he was less likely to be called a murderer and, more importantly to the metalhead, he was able to live as himself, as Edward Munson. And now here he was, setting his stuff up on his side of the dorm room in college. The only thing that would make this better was if his old friends could see him, he missed them but couldn't bring himself to return to Hawkins, especially not as Eddie.

His roommate had called him over to the door, saying the guy from across the hall was at the door, "I told you it's Eddie, not Edward," he was saying to his roommate as he made his way over, hands up in his hair as he was tying his mess of curls back. Freezing in place as he saw who was at the door, there was no mistaking him, especially not with those moles and that hair. He stood there just, staring for a few moments, hands paused in his hair before finally speaking, "hey...Harrington..." He knew there was no point pretending to be strangers, not only would brows get raised when his surname comes up, but the scars, especially the scar that went from the corner of his lip and cross his cheek and jaw from the demobats, he knew he looked different now but, the trauma they shared would out him even if he didn't say anything.

[splodey-goat]

The greatest tragedy of fashion is that almost all clothes feel way better after they're pretty grungy, so the longer you go without getting new clothes the worse they feel, and the less you wanna wear anything except the 3 things you've been wearing for a decade.

[fullmoonfireball]

finally snapped and decided to Monster High-ify some of the monster AU designs because I’ve had that idea rotating in my brain for a while now

some notes under the cut if you’re inch rested

Jazz:

Aspmine is... a real stretch of a pun, I know, but I couldn’t come up with anything better. I considered “Jaserpent”, but that felt way too clumsy. and yes it DOES feel weird to spell her name with an E at the end, but “Aspmin” didn’t look right. also I changed his last name/parentage to fit MH’s continuity better.

Asp’s style is overall wintery, with a bit of greek influence and a healthy does of accessories (pins, patches, etc.)

the hair+hat was inspired by Deb from The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, because their normal “haircut” didn’t quite fit the MH vibe unfortunately 😔

I know logically I should’ve made their mouth look more cute/feminine with lipstick and such (probably something comparable to Venus McFlytrap’s mouth), but I’m too attached to monster!Jazz’s =} face to draw him any other way

the ‘snake’ around Asp’s neck isn’t real. it’s just a fancy knit scarf. the belt, however, is snakeskin! or it’s supposed to look like it, at least.

the other Gorgon characters have legs, I know, but hear me out. I hate drawing high heels. Deuce and Viperine look pretty different in terms of monstrous features, and there are Monster High dolls with tails instead of legs, so I think I can keep her shape the same, as a treat. plus it reflects the og AU’s Weirdness in their family (with having some cockatrice in the family, which helps a little to explain how her cousin is a siren)

Guy:

yeah I... couldn’t figure out a good pun for him. I tried to work in a “John Doe” angle because of how “Guy” (pronounced like “gi”) looks like the word “guy”, and noppera-bō are faceless, but I couldn’t make it flow right. so instead, his last name is just “whose face” (誰の顔) bc it was the best thing I could come up with

unlike Jazz, I didn’t decide to tweak his family to be related to Kiyomi Haunterly. nothing against her (I haven’t even seen Haunted), but noppera-bō are generic yōkai and as opposed to specific individuals like the Gorgon sisters, and if other generic creatures can have multiple unrelated characters, so can they.

I had to give ONE of these boys that Generic Manster Drip™, and with Guy being a jock who I often portray in a letterman jacket... yeah, he was the obvious target. I think I managed to spice it up enough to 1) show that he’s fashionable “despite” being a jock, and 2) add enough monstrous flare to it, though.

I thought about adding more distinctly Japanese elements to their outfit (kind of like Kiyomi’s sailor collar necklace...thing) but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. the popular male school uniform didn’t combine well with the letterman jacket look, and putting a buttonup shirt under the jacket made him look too formal for these purposes.

yes, the back pack is meant to be a stand-in for JPG’s.. JP. not much to say about it other than the fact I’m probably a little too proud of the transparency effect with it and his hand.

speaking of the transparency, I’m actually pretty happy with how it looks on him! I usually portray monster!Guy as just a normal-looking guy until he wipes his face off, since that’s how noppera-bō are, but the more ghostly elements were really fun to add, honestly. the white lines for the face especially were a little tricky, but look really satisfying!

I also made his hair lighter and a bit ‘cloudy’ to capture the look that most MH ghosts have with their flowy hair, while still keeping it the texture intact.

Rookie:

coming up with a good name for him was a pain in the ass. I tried to do something based off “transform” (bc heehee he’s trans), but it didn’t feel right. I also tried using “Buddy” as his ‘nickname’ for a while since Dog, but I eventually settled on using his original ‘nickname’, because it offered a funny bit of irony when paired with him being a werewolf. the last name also might have been stolen from an ancient MH OC of mine, but we don’t need to delve into that.

I still don’t really know how his family situation works in the actual AU, but here he and his siblings (a harpy and a merrow) are the adoptive children of a shapeshifter and... probably a living sculpture? I haven’t actually decided for sure what Polaris and Callie Graphee are in the main AU yet.

technically, Rookie’s a wulver and not a werewolf in the monster AU, but even ignoring some jokes I’ve made about the idea of his AU self being a werewolf... he’s literally a werewolf in canon. I’m allowed to take this “liberty”.

okay, onto actual design notes! I tried to keep his summery Funnie Guy fashion style from canon but... he turned out a lot more alt than I intended? I don’t dislike it, but it’s interesting that the look ended up taking such a turn without my intent.

at first I tried to give him the letterman jacket, because I think it’s an underrated look for him, but... yeah no. too plain, and it felt redundant with Guy.

the suspenders were inspired by SCPPS’s design for Director!Rookie, because I think the loose suspenders are very charming on him!

decided to go with torn capris instead of his typical shorts to fit the MH vibe (since shorts are usually relegated to sport or beach lines), as well as emphasize the werewolf vibe.

to finish off that werewolf vibe, I decided to give him a collar choker, mostly inspired by the werewolves in Fright On!, albeit styled more like a normal dog collar than the spiked ones they have.

[sunstar121]

wow what a couple of fun guys!!!! hope something fucked up doesn't happen to them!!!!

[I.D: Two digital drawings on transparent backgrounds. the first is of Quackity, who is stretching his arms and wings. the second is of Karl, who is waving enthusiastically in front of a multicoloured spiral. more detailed I.D under the cut. end I.D]

[I.D: quackity is a light-skinned latino man with duck wings and tail feathers, brown eyes, short black hair, scars, and a blue streak in his hair. a scar runs through his left eye, which is rolled upwards, and tears open part of his cheek. he wears many rings and bandages, a dark blue beanie, a white buttonup, brown suspenders, undone red tie, blue tracksuit pants, and blue dress shoes. he also has bold black eyeliner.

karl is a white man with fluffy brown hair, pointed ears, a long, thin tail, heterochromic green and purple eyes, and spiral-like scars on his face. he has many piercings, and grins with one eye closed. he wears an oversized colour block hoodie over a black turtleneck, ripped gray jeans, fingerless gloves, purple runners, and many rings and watches. a messenger bag plastered with stickers hangs around his shoulders, and there are many stickers and patches on his jeans. a pair of golden goggles sit on his head. end I.D]

[regenderate-fic]

When I Run Away (You're Who I Run To): Chapter 22

main post read on ao3

Word Count (Chapter): 2,349

Yaz woke up the next morning feeling unexpectedly good, all things considered. It took her a moment to pinpoint exactly why— but she was fairly sure it had something to do with the two people wrapped completely around her, both still asleep. Penny’s hair was fluffing up in Yaz’s face, and Yaz lifted her chin so she wouldn’t sneeze; and Rose’s face seemed to be buried in Yaz’s hair, with no consideration for whether or not she would be able to breathe. Yaz vaguely considered getting up, but it wasn’t a serious thought; she had all day to pace and worry, but right now she felt comfortable and safe, and that wasn’t something she could take for granted. 

She must have dozed off again, because when she woke up, it was to Penny still asleep and Rose gently shaking her shoulder.

“Your sister’s on the phone.”

Yaz rolled over, pulling herself carefully out of Penny’s arms, and fell back to the pillow with a groan. “I was comfortable.”

“D’you want to talk to her or not?” Rose held out Yaz’s phone, and Yaz took it with a sigh.

“Hiya.”

“Yaz, where are you?” Sonya asked at the other end of the line. “Dad’s making enough breakfast to feed, like, six armies, and we’ve only got three extra people here, four if you count Ryan, and Nadira’s too small to eat her share. We need you.”

“Er— all right,” Yaz said, rubbing her eyes. “All of us?”

She could practically hear Sonya’s eye roll. “Of course all of you. D’you know Dad won’t shut up about something Penny said to him about his whole trash conspiracy yesterday?” She paused. “Actually, I should warn you. The flat’s full of trash. Awful timing, if you ask me.”

“Why—” Yaz shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”

“You can ask him yourself, anyway,” Sonya replied. “When you get here.” 

“Fine.” Yaz stretched, trying not to disturb Penny— although Penny seemed to be stirring, her eyes blinking open. “We’ll see you soon.”

“You’d better.” The line went dead, and Yaz dropped her phone on the bed. 

“Any news?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” Yaz said. “My dad’s making us all breakfast.” She glanced at Penny, who was pushing herself up on an elbow. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Penny said, her words slurring together just a little. Her hair was all over the place, and Yaz resisted the instinct to reach out and smooth it down. “Did you say breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Yaz nudged Penny. “Get dressed and we can go.” 

“Might have to grab something off the hotel breakfast first,” Penny said, already lifting her shirt over her head. “Blood sugar, and all that. And I’ve got medication. Promise I'll still eat whatever your dad’s got.” 

“You know,” Yaz said, leaning back against Rose, “you might actually like my dad’s cooking. Similar palates.”

“Brilliant.” Penny had pulled on a long-sleeved undershirt and was now buttoning a short-sleeved buttonup over it. “Can't wait.” She glanced back at Yaz. “Are you getting dressed?”

Yaz groaned, turning her head against Rose’s chest. “Don't want to.”

“It's not that bad,” Rose cajoled, pushing gently at Yaz. 

“Fine.” Yaz forced herself to slide off Rose’s lap and put her feet on the ground by her suitcase, bending over to sort through the clothes.

An hour later, Yaz, Rose, and Penny were at Park Hill, knocking on the door. Yaz's dad opened it with a grin, pulling all three of them into a hug. 

“Dad!” Yaz protested, pulling away, and he let go. Next to Yaz, Penny stumbled.

“Sorry!” Yaz's dad suddenly looked horrified. “Didn't think— just wanted you to feel welcome.”

“Nah, that's all right,” Penny said brightly. “Worse reasons to get a bit wobbly, aren't there?” 

“Suppose there are.” Yaz's dad stepped back. “Anyway, come in! Plenty of food.”

He wasn't kidding. He'd practically filled the kitchen counter with plates of eggs, rice, yogurt, pancakes, fruit, all of which had been picked at, but was nowhere near gone. 

“How do you even do all this?” Yaz asked, shaking her head. She stepped around a trash bag— so Sonya hadn't been joking about that, then— and towards the counter. “Or fit it on this counter?”

“He was cooking for hours!” It was Nadira, who was sitting at the table with a mostly-empty plate. 

“Just trying to help,” Yaz's dad said.

“It’s a great help,” Rose said, picking up a plate. She smiled at Yaz's dad. “Thanks.”

Yaz's dad puffed out his chest at the praise, and Yaz rolled her eyes affectionately as she reached for a plate. It was good, of course, that her family liked Rose, but Yaz always found it funny how easily pleased her dad was. 

Yaz, Rose, and Penny filled plates and made their way over to the table, which was mostly empty. The Khans’ table could only fit four people, and even that was a bit of a squeeze, but the only one still eating now was Nadira, who was small enough that when Yaz, Rose, and Penny sat down, it didn’t feel cramped. 

“I like your dad’s cooking,” Penny said to Yaz, shoving half a pancake into her mouth. She’d dumped salt on it, of course, in a move that Yaz knew better than to question.

“Tell him that,” Yaz said. She looked over to the kitchen, where her dad was now washing up. “Hey, Dad, Penny likes your cooking.”

He turned around, beaming. “Thanks!”

“That’s got you in his good books for the next hundred years,” Yaz said to Penny, not bothering to lower her voice.

“I heard that,” her dad called. 

“Whatever,” she called back. “Where’s Mum?”

“Already at the hospital. With her sisters.” 

“I’m going later,” Nadira said. 

“Suppose I am too,” Yaz replied, giving Nadira as much of a smile as she could. To her dad, she added, “What about Sonya?”

“Went for a run,” her dad said. “She’ll be back soon.” 

“Make the most of the peace while we have it,” Yaz muttered. 

Rose laughed. “C’mon, she’s not that bad.”

Yaz raised her eyebrows. “D’you remember the first time you met her?” 

“She wasn’t bad then, either!” Rose protested.

“Really?” Yaz asked, jabbing a bit of egg with her fork. “‘Cause I remember her sitting down and asking who you were, and why you were here, and what you were doing with me in London—”

“That was years ago,” Rose said. “She’s mellowed.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she couldn’t get to you.” Yaz glanced at Penny. “Really, I should give you a warning.”

“About what? Your sister?” Penny shoved a spoonful of blueberries in her mouth. “I can handle sisters. Been living with Donna for years, haven’t I?”

“You’ll see when she comes in here,” Yaz said. 

“Don’t see what the fuss is,” Penny replied. “She was perfectly nice yesterday.”

“Yeah, but now we’re on her home turf.” Yaz shook her head. “Love her— don’t tell her I said that— but she has a history when it comes to my friends.”

Penny shrugged. “It’s still better than being bored at home.”

“You know, that's a good point,” Rose said. “We should come bug your sister every week.”

Yaz gave her a look. “Don't even joke.”

Rose just grinned back at her. Yaz flicked a bit of rice in her direction. 

“Oi, eat your breakfast.”

By the time Sonya actually came back, Yaz was in the kitchen helping with the washing up, Rose and Penny having been roped into playing some kind of complicated make believe game with Nadira. The door opened, then slammed shut, and then Yaz heard Sonya’s footsteps disappearing down the hall. 

Yaz dried off the last dish and went to sit with Penny on the sofa. The second she sat down, Penny yelped.

“Yaz, you can’t sit there! That’s the wall of my tower.” She gestured at the seat. “See?”

“Oh.” Yaz stood up and craned her neck until she saw the string that had been draped across the cushion. “Sorry. Er— can I sit somewhere else?”

Penny thought for a second. She moved over, pressing up against the arm of the sofa, and Yaz followed, carefully straightening the string.

“So,” she said. “Why are we in a tower?”

“I’m in a tower because I’m the princess,” Penny explained. “I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

Yaz looked at her and laughed. She had another string around her head, drooping towards her ear, and she was leaning back with her arms flung everywhere. In her T-shirt and jeans, she made for a very rakish princess, looking very much like she’d rather play in the dirt than— do whatever princesses did. 

“Maybe I’m rescuing you,” she said. “Not that I think you need rescuing, mind.”

“No, Rose is rescuing me,” Penny said. “And Nadira. They’ve gone off to figure out their plan.” She paused. “‘Course, I suppose there’s room for someone else to steal me away. Or kidnap me. Could add for more excitement later.”

“Oh, yeah?” Yaz grinned. 

“Or,” Penny added, “I could be a dragon in disguise, and you could be the real princess, and I’ve hidden you away somewhere, except you’ve escaped, and now you’re back in the tower—”

“You going to explain all this to Nadira and Rose when they get back?” Yaz asked.

Penny shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

“All right, then. What do I do?”

“Get me with a sword or something?” Penny tried.

Yaz looked around, trying to visualize the “tower” around her. “D’you have a sword in here?”

“I don’t know,” Penny said. “You’re the real princess, aren’t you?”

“How dangerous are you?” Yaz asked. “As a dragon, I mean?”

“Oh, extremely.” Penny bared her teeth at Yaz. Yaz couldn’t help but laugh, and Penny broke character to grin in return.

“All right, then,” Yaz said. She straightened up, holding her head high. “Get out of my tower, you— foul beast.”

“Foul, am I?” Penny pouted.

Yaz nudged her. “Play along, won’t you?”

“Oh. Right.” Penny bared her teeth again. She reared back, and that was when Rose and Nadira came back in— or, more accurately, charged.

“We’re here to save you!” Nadira yelled, and then stopped short. “Why are there two of you?”

“Help!” Yaz called out. “The dragon is getting me!”

“Oh, no!” Rose ran towards Yaz. Penny gave an impressive growl, but Rose forged onward, stopping at the coffee table. “Nadira!” she called. “What will we do?” 

“We have to climb the tower,” Nadira said. She clambered onto the coffee table and jumped from there onto Penny, who roared at her. Rose wisely stepped around the table with exaggerated climbing motions and jumped onto Yaz's lap, her legs bumping into Penny’s. 

“How's this helping in the rescue?” Yaz asked, laughing. 

“I don't know,” Rose said. “Not much space in the tower, is there? Got to sit somewhere.” She grinned at Yaz, and Yaz shook her head. 

“If you say so.” On instinct, she wrapped her arms around Rose, and Rose’s grin grew. 

“Oi, you're still under attack here!” Penny launched herself at Yaz and Rose, sending all four of them crashing to the couch in a pile. 

Nadira wriggled out of it quickly, shouting, “Don't worry! I'll rescue you!” She began to mime like she was swinging a sword, and Penny reacted as if she'd been hit, her elbow jabbing into Yaz as she flung her limbs everywhere. Finally, she went limp, her tongue lolling out, her body a comfortable weight on top of Yaz and Rose. Nadira started tugging at her arm, still determined in her rescue. 

“What are you doing?” It was Sonya’s voice. Yaz craned her neck from where she was pressed into the cushions, trying to see: Sonya, her hair damp, was standing over them.

“We’re playing castle,” Nadira explained. “Rose and I were trying to rescue Penny, but then she was a dragon, and then we were trying to rescue Yaz, and then I killed Penny with my sword.”

“You could join,” Yaz added, the usual layer of snark in her tone. “Be a moat monster or something.”

“You know I’m always the princess.” Sonya tossed her wet hair. A few droplets of water landed on Yaz’s face. “Anyway, if you’re done with the make-believe, Mum says Nani’s ready for visitors.”

“Why does no one tell me these things?” Yaz grumbled. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, twisting to face Sonya; Rose and Penny shifted to sit on either side of her. “Are you taking the bus?”

“Mum’s got the car.” 

Yaz nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“You’re assuming I want you along,” Sonya replied.

Yaz rolled her eyes. “Tell me when you’re ready,” she repeated.

“I’ll be a second,” Sonya said, pushing away from the couch. “Gives you time to finish your rescue, or whatever.” She disappeared back into the hall. 

“Am I still dead?” Penny asked, looking around.

“You’re a ghost,” Nadira decided. 

“Am I?” Penny looked positively delighted. “Brilliant. Do I get to float around?”

Nadira thought for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “And it means I get to rescue Yaz!” She grabbed Yaz’s arm.

Rose scrambled forward. “Oi, I thought I was doing the rescuing.” She winked at Yaz, and Yaz suppressed a blush.

Nadira rolled her eyes at her. “We’re a team.”

“Oh, all right, then.” Rose took Yaz’s other arm, and the three of them stood with great ceremony. As Rose and Nadira led Yaz away, Penny started up her dragon roar in a high, eerie register.

“Okay, I'm ready.” Sonya had entered the room again. Yaz turned around. 

“Okay,” she said. “Let me get my shoes.” She looked at Rose and Penny. “You two all right here?”

“Never better,” Penny said. 

“Says the one who's died and come back a ghost,” Rose teased. Her hand was still on Yaz's arm, and she let it travel down to give her hand a quick squeeze. More seriously, she added, “We’ll be all right.”

Yaz nodded. “See you tonight?”

“‘Course.” 

Yaz let go of Roses’s hand and headed for the door.

[draconic-ichor]

Heisenberg x oc Smut dabble…

This is a Heisenberg x my resident evil oc Juniper dabble, it doesn’t go with my current fic

This came to mind when I fantasized about what if Both Heisenberg and Juniper had been nervous little virgins their first time…

Warnings: strong language, fingering, handjob, nipple play, penetrative sex

Did this quickly and didn’t really proofread…Hope you guys like it :3 18+

“Hey Heisenberg?” Juniper asked tentatively behind him, “I don’t have many clothes and it’s hot here at night…can I wear one of your shirts?”

“I don’t give a fuck what you do.” He grumbled getting a drink of water. By the time he turned he almost choked on that swallow. Juniper stood by the bed in one of his buttonups and a pair of panties, her not owning any real type of sleepwear.

Heisenberg had to turn back towards the sink: in part to cough and also to hide his crimson face and tented pants.

All this over her wearing his clothes?

He thought darkly. Living with her and especially sharing a bed was doing a serious number on him, and his fist lost its relief almost a week prior. It didn’t do the trick anymore, not when Juniper slept just a few measly feet away from him.

He cursed, hating this feeling.

“Are you sure it’s ok?” She asked worriedly.

Heisenberg swallowed, nodding vigorously instead of giving her a verbal answer.

He waited until he heard her crawl into the bed before finding it safe enough to move. Heisenberg lit a cigar, smoking it slowly to calm his nerves.

His pale eyes flicked over to her form, unmoving in the bed. He knew she wasn’t sleeping, it never finding her quickly.

After he was plenty calm again he readied for bed himself, flicking off the light and crawling into his spot near the wall. He stared at the ceiling for many long moments.

For most of the time Juniper lived with him he heckled her and made passing comments trying to get a rise from her. When she would blush he counted it as a win, knowing it was only a matter of time before she caught on to just how touch starved he really was. She made him feel like a horny teenager.

To his eventual dismay Juniper had already detected cracks in his bravado, finding he also bubbled up certain feeling in herself. She was needy and desperate, his daily antics driving her wild.

Juniper turned and looked him over, her green eyes glowing slightly in the darkness. She heard him gulp, meeting her gaze.

Not so tough now.

She sat up quietly, “Heisenberg?”

“What?”

“You’ve never been with someone before either? Have you?”

Her question struck him like a blow to the head.

“None of your damn business.” He spoke, trying to make his voice even.

Before he could react Juniper was ontop of him, legs around his hips and hands pressed into his shoulders as she loomed over him.

If not for the darkness either would be able to see the other’s face was the same shade of crimson.

“You made it my business when you decided to flirt with me daily!” Juniper hissed, “No more games, what do you want with me?”

A tense moment stretch between them, her outburst something Heisenberg didn’t calculate. He silently cursed himself as he felt his cock become painfully hard in response to her warmth pressed against him.

Juniper felt it too, softening her hold of him a bit.

“I-I don’t know.” He finally stammered, “You I guess?”

“You guess?”

“Fuck, I want you ok!” He barked, feeling sweat bead on his brow, “You’ve been driving me fucking wild over here!”

Embarrassment flooded him when he felt her stiffen a bit over him.

“Driving you wild??” Annoyance thick in her tone, “You started all these games. Saying all those things to me daily!”

Fuck she had a point, his muscles twitched a bit under her. “Either?” He asked, voice wavering.

“Either?”

“You said the word ‘either’ earlier, doll.”

“Oh…”

“Any particular reason you said that?”

“Iv never….been intimate with anyone before.” Juniper admitted quietly.

That fact eased a bit of Heisenberg’s embarrassment, he licked his dry lips giving her a small piece of truth himself, “…Neither have I.”

“So all that cockiness was bullshit.” Juniper snapped, a bit of lightness entering her tone.

“Shit.” He whispered, “Maybe.”

They both were painfully aware of each other’s neediness now: Juniper feeling his cock hard as rock below her and Heisenberg very much aware of the growing wetness between her legs.

Juniper retreated off him a bit, settling between his knees. The loss of contact almost made Heisenberg whimper but he swallowed it away.

He looked down questionably, seeing Juniper eyeing his boxers.

“May I?” She asked shyly.

Heisenberg swallowed hard, “Do whatever you want.” He silently cursed himself, hearing his voice crack a bit.

She pulled his boxers down, his cock springing to full height now free. She sent out an exploring touch, hearing him draw in a breath.

Her fingers wrapped around him, pumping once. He hissed, hips bucking a bit. Taking this as a good sign she continued, heart hammering in her chest.

With each flick of her wrist his foreskin glided deliciously over the sensitive head. He huffed out hotly, it quickly feeling much too good. Her soft hands making him tremble.

“Harder.” He swallowed, her timidness wearing him thin. Juniper nodded, gripping his cock more firmly as she pumped her hand up and down. Her free hand found his thigh, nails scratching the sensitive skin ever so slightly. It sent a jolt of pleasure through him.

He couldn’t contain the sounds he made, moaning out like a whore as his cock leaked pre.

He was close, she could feel it. “It’s alright.” She murmured, “Can you come for me?”

Her voice was so sweet to his ears. Taking a shaking breath he nodded, his eyes tightly shut.

His hips thrust upwards, balls tightening as his cock jolted under her fingers. He groaned out feeling hot ropes cover her hand and his stomach. Cursing, he couldn’t remember feeling this good. What was she doing to him.

She lay down next to him, letting him catch his breath. She gave her fingers an small lick, the taste new to her, salty and raw.

Heisenberg rolled over, scanning her face. Wiping her hand on her shirt before reaching out, she cupped his face. He pulled her in close, catching her lips with his own. It was messy and desperate, neither quite knowing the proper way.

His breath came out hotly, he wouldn’t last long like this. Feeling her body press against his own as his hand felt down her body and palmed her plush ass. His cock was already growing hard again.

He felt her shake, just as nervous as he was.

He pulled away enough to get a mouthful of cool air, giving her a self conscious grin, “You sure about this Doll? Want to be each other’s first fuck?”

Her body was hot and needy, mind too ate up with lust to back away now.

“Y-Yes.” She answered, voice wavering a bit in nervousness.

He wasn’t about to ask again, decades of unwanted celibacy wearing him thin. He pulled her into another kiss, lips crashing together.

He ripped open her shirt, buttons being popped away, making her gasp. He didn’t give her time to scold him, sucking dark blotches across her breast. She buried her fingers in his hair, pulling slightly when she felt his mouth find her peaked nipple.

Heisenberg hissed out, pulling back.

Junipers eyes glowed in the low light, very easy to see where her gaze lingered.

They connected again, feverishly kissing and groping each other almost curiously. Their movements where hot and desperate

Heisenberg’s hand drifted lower to find her completely soaked, pulling her underwear free. She felt him smirk into her skin, her blush deepening on the darkness.

“All this for me?” His voice oozing with cockiness. His fingers ghosted her opening, looking for the places that would make her squirm. He bumped into that little bundle of nerves making Juniper’s hips buck.

“You like that?” He whispered huskily, looming over her and nipping at her neck.

“Y-Yea, it’s really good.” She answered breathily.

He coated his fingers in her slick rubbing that sensitive nub until her legs shook around him.

He huffed out hotly, pulling his fingers away to push one into her opening.

Her core clenched instantly around him making his breath hitch. She was so sensitive and eager under him, driving him almost crazy.

He added a second finger, making her gasp.

He pumped into her experimentally, getting an idea for his coming task. During his practicing motions he brushed a spot deep within her that made her cry out.

He stilled, worriedly pulling back a bit.

Juniper shook her head, grasping onto him, “Please don’t stop, it feels so good!”

He went back in, pumping his fingers faster, his palm rubbing into her clit. Junipers’s coil snapped, shaking and crying out.

He kept up his movements for a few moments more, enthralled as she buckled against his hand. Pulling away he let her fall back against the bed.

Everything tingled, Juniper gulped in needed air.

Heisenberg brought his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. He loved her flavor, raw and sweet, he knew he would become addicted to it.

His cock almost ached with need, he had to have her. Every nerve screaming to breed her into the bed.

Heisenberg lifted her legs, hooking them around his waist. He loomed over her, lining his cock up to her slit.

Juniper met his eyes. He began to push into her, his girth stretching her out inch by inch.

Juniper whimpered under him, her core tightening and making it harder to move forward.

“R-Relax Doll.” Heisenberg gritted his teeth. Juniper gave a small nod, breathing in deeply.

He hilted fully inside her liquid head, almost coming undone. He stilled his hips, concentrating on holding it together.

His pause also giving her time to adjust. When he though he could continue he slowly pulled his hips back until only the head stayed slotted in her, gliding back forward.

She felt divine around him, nothing like his fist. He groaned out, starting to thrust a bit faster. Every time their hips met Juniper gave out little mewls and moans.

She began to buck up into him, wet and needy. Heisenberg took her hips roughly, pressing her into the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He moaned out, movements becoming erratic.

When he had started this he knew somewhere in the very back of his brain that he should pull out and come on her belly or ass. Now however, feeling her clinging to him and her core squeezing down on his cock that thought could not be found.

He buried his face into her neck, fucking her open into the bed. Juniper tightened under him, scratching down his back. He felt her cunt flutter around him.

He was done for. Bottoming out in her he roared out his release, legs shaking. Juniper held on for dear life, crying out his name as he painted her walls. He gave a few weak thrusts to ride out his high, feeling her milk him.

He needed this.

He collapsed onto his elbows, giving ragged breathes. They sat there in relative silence, save for each other’s gasping breathes.

When his heartbeat slowed, Heisenberg asked a question, the words ghosting over her neck, “Pretty good Doll?”

Juniper bit her lip, a mischievous look on her eyes, “Hmmm…I don’t know..”

“You don’t know?” He growled.

She grabbed his face, smiling, “We might have to try a few more times, just to be sure.”

He chuckled. They were going to be much busier from now on.

[1-800-gaygentsofshield]

Skimmons: dom!Daisy sub!jemma

-

Daisy’s veins are still buzzing with adrenaline as her tiny scientists eyebrows furrow in worry. “Love..your cheek.” Jemma frowns, gently brushing her fingertips over the cut on the taller agents right cheek. Daisy’s currently dressed in a suit, her hair tied up with two sections hanging in the front, exposing the cut for Jemma to examine.

(like when she got Deke out of jail in season 5)

“It’s nothing big Jems, don’t worry.” Daisy breathes out, gently kissing the palm of Jemmas hand. “Mm..okay..Where’d you get that suit from anyways Dais?” The brit says, changing the direction of the conversation as her eyes scan up and down her girlfriends form. The pair is standing in one the lighthouses hallway, off to the side a bit as they talk. “The dude that’s the same kind as Enoch gave it to me when I was breaking Deke out of jail. Pretty hot right?” Daisy teases, pulling at the mostly unbuttoned buttonup. The brit nods her head, words getting caught in her throat as the fabric shifts to reveal Daisy’s cleavage. The hacker smirks and leans in, kissing Jemma soundly as her hands making their way to her hips. She pulls Jemmas hips up against her own, one hand sliding down a bit and grabbing her ass. It makes Jemma whimper quietly, her body already melting at the attention Daisy’s giving it. With the time travel, diner abduction, and blue alien dudes, the couple haven’t had a lot of time together, meaning things get heated quickly. Daisy kisses Jemma deeper, pressing the tiny scientist up against the hallways wall. “Daisy..mm Dais not in the hallway..” Jemma whispers, her body aching to be touched. Immediately she feels Daisy’s hand intertwining with her hair and pulling it back, not hard enough to cause pain but enough to grab attention. “That’s no way to speak to me Jemma.” She breathes out, her eyes glazing over with lust and Jemma feels her knees go week. “I-I’m sorry m’am..” She whispers, her eyes drifting down to Daisy’s now visible black lace bra. The agent grins, pleased at Jemmas reaction, before pulling them into the nearest bunk, Daisy’s bunk. As soon as she closes the door, Daisy pins Jemma up against it, kissing her open mouthed, filled with lust, eagerness, and hunger. The brits hands are pinned on opposite sides of her head so she whines softly, trying to kiss her lover deeper. The room becomes hot n heavy around them as they both pull back for air. “Lock the door Jemma.” Daisy commands, stepping away from a softly panting Jemma. She’s quick to comply as she watches her girlfriend rummage around the drawers, grabbing a large box before walking into the bathroom. “Don’t move.” She says and the brit nods, her body almost frozen in excitement.

Daisy comes back out a few minutes later, everything still the same except the noticeable bulge in her suit pants. A rush of heat goes to Jemmas core and her eyes widen, her legs squeezing together to try and relieve the pressure. The taller agent slowly makes her way over to Jemma, slowly shrugging off her jacket and placing it on the chair. She circles her girlfriend slowly, her hand running from her shoulders along her back. Jemma shudders as Daisy wraps her arms around her waist, her hands slowly taking of her sweater. Her mind melts as Daisy’s lips kiss along her neck, softly nipping her sweet spot. Jemma lets out a groan of approval as she presses herself up against Daisy’s front, feeling the strap on against her back. “Please..” She begs, her body heating up with every touch. “Please what honey? Tell me what you want.” Daisy says lustfully, her breath low and sultry. “P-please fuck me..i’m yours..” Jemma breathes out, her eyes closing as Daisy gently caresses her almost bare chest. “Please what?” The brunette repeats, taking of Jemmas bra. “Please fuck me mistress.” The brit whines, her entire body begging for attention. “On your knees.” Daisy says, pulling back slightly from Jemma. The scientist nods and quickly falls to her knees, looking up at Daisy with those big doe eyes. “Unzip my pants sweetheart.” She says, watching as Jemma slowly unbuttons her pants, the brits eyes going wide as the strap in comes into view. Daisy slowly runs her hand through Jemmas brown waves, tugging her hair a bit to get the message across. The brit nods and slowly sucks on the appendage, bobbing her head up and down while keeping eye contact with her girlfriend. “Good girl.” Daisy whispers, gently pulling the brit up to stand. Jemma wipes her mouth as she stands, leaning up a bit so Daisy can kiss her. The kiss is firm and passionate, letting Jemma slowly take out Daisy’s elastic so her hair can flow freely. Daisy’s hands unbutton Jemmas jeans and in one swift motion, pulls them down to her ankles. “Step out of them honey.” She whispers, pulling down Jemmas underwear at the same time. The brit nods and quickly steps out of her underwear, letting Daisy lead the pair to the wall. The taller girl pins her up against the wall, slowly running the strap on up and down her entrance. “Mistress..please please please..” Jemma begs, Daisy spreading her legs wider. “Use your words baby.” Daisy whispers, slowly rubbing the scientists bud. “Take me, all of me..please, I’m yours.” Jemma breathes out, her hips rocking softly against Daisy’s hand before adding, “M’am.”

Daisy inhales sharply, biting her lip as she pushes the head of the strap on inside of her. “All of it, please..fuck me.” Jemma begs, wanting the releif that’s been building up for far too long. Daisy grabs Jemmas hips roughly, adjusting her stance before pushing the appendage in fully. Jemmas eyes close and her head falls back onto Daisy’s shoulder, feeling fuller than ever and stretched to the max. “Ah! Oh fuck- mmhm..” She pants out, her walls trying to adjust. Daisy waits for a few moments, kissing Jemmas shoulder blades before slowly moving her hips to thrust in and out. As Daisy’s thrust increase, Jemmas soft moans and pants turn into loud moans and gasps, a knot quickly forming in the pit of her stomach. She reaches back and gently tugs on Daisy’s arm, moaning “Fatser please..” Daisy responds with thrusting the dildo deeper, hitting her g-spot each time. Jemma moans louder and louder, her legs starting to shake as Daisy fucks her senselessly. “Fuck..fuck mistress I’m going to cum..please, please I need to cum.” Jemma begs, almost bursting at the seams as the pleasure becomes unbearable. “Cum Jemma, cum for me.” Daisy commands, kissing Jemmas neck and rubbing circles on her lower back. The brits knees buckle as she cries out Daisy’s name, coming undone while leaning up against the wall. Daisy slows down her thrusts a bit as Jemma cums, letting her girlfriend ride out her high. Jemma slumps into Daisy’s arms, her legs numb and ecstasy still flowing through her body. The taller girl slowly pulls the strap on out of her and pulls her into her arms, gently brushing her hair out of her sweat coated face. “Good girl, such a good girl.” Daisy coos gently, accentuating her praises with soft kisses on Jemmas temple. She leads them onto the bed, discarding the strap on and remaining garments of clothes to the side before cuddling Jemma close. “My good girl. Such a good girl for me, Jemma.” Daisy hums, rubbing patterns up and down the brits arm. Jemma slowly buries her face into Daisys chest, her own still slightly heaving from the earth. shattering orgasm. She mumbles incoherently under her breath, her eyes already heavy with sleep. “Sleep Jems, I’ve got you.” Her girlfriend reassures her, pulling the blankets over them and turning off the lights.

[writing-the-end]

Exodus- Part 4

Previous Chapter

An Edolas Hermit Story (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Impulse has escaped the city, avoided the leaders, but now he’s lost in a world he knows nothing about. And no matter how far he goes, it’s never far enough to stop the feeling of being watched

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

LET”s try this again shall we?. Yada yada nods to other games, easter eggs and inspiration. 

But still! CHECK OUT RED HIS WORK IS AMAZING AND HE”S THE FUCKING GENIUS THAT CAME UP WITH THIS. I just put words to paper. Sometimes I do it well. 

Warning: This story contains general dark elements and language

_________________________________________

The hours stretch into days, the sun rising and setting without a clock to tell Impulse when the nights are looming and retreating. He seemed to have lost Xisuma and Cub a while back, but that doesn’t stop him from running. He can’t put enough distance between them and himself. He can’t put enough distance between the city and himself. 

But he knows that with each step away from the bonds of Hermitland, it’s also a step away from the bonds of friendship. Leaving behind Tango and Zed, being forced to continue without them has been some of the worst thoughts that haunt his mind. Are they okay? Were they seen? Does Cub know who they are? Will they be able to escape some other way? Join him beyond the walls? Questions haunt Impulse in the day, and nightmares run wild at night. Nightmares of what horrible experiences they may have to endure, experiences like he went through. Being caught, interrogated, put through rehabilitation. Or worse. 

The worst nightmares aren’t ones of himself being hurt, or his friends being caught. It’s of them forgetting him. Moving on with their lives, giving up on their shared dreams of freedom. Of the classes they’d taken together, the long evenings studying for engineering exams, cool nights on rooftops dreaming of a world beyond the walls. No memory, no recollection of Impulse. No one left to remember, to care about a poor boy with big dreams to help people. 

As Impulse travels through the birch forest, he’s learned not to trust anything. The eyes of the trees, the whispers of the leaves all betray him. The squeaks and howls of animals are distant voices, carrying the message of his location to unwanted ears. Even the sticks on the ground, the grass are traps in disguise. Ensnaring the city boy and making his paranoia grow. Everything is out to get him. Just like in Hermitland. No, because of Hermitland. It’s all a part of the bigger conspiracy. 

If Tango and Zed were here, they’d be able to quell his fears. Prove to his mind and all it’s wayward conclusions that it’s just coincidence. Tango’s skepticism and caution would point out the flaws of Impulse’s fears, the coincidences that break the story. And Zed would have filled in what was left with optimism, truth and guidance to ease away the sharp worries. 

But it’s just Impulse. Alone in the wild, alone in the world. Is there anyone beyond the walls, or is he the only soul out here? Impulse isn’t sure if he could take living alone, like some hermit out here in a forest full of eyes. Full of things waiting to hurt him, waiting to rat him out to things that only want to do him harm. People that only want to do him harm. 

Impulse trips, crashing into the ground. Clumps of grass and dirt stick to his sweaty face, and he spits a leaf out from between his teeth. He twists, looking to see what brought him to his knees. Sunlight filtering through the trees glistens off two metal buttons, blinding Impulse as he stands in the reflected illumination. Impulse creeps closer, looking at what he caught his foot on. 

It’s a doll, a little rag doll not dissimilar from the toys he grew up with. Metal buttons for eyes, tattered fabric skin and clothes. A plant has grown from it’s chest, the stuffing within long ago stolen by birds and beasts. His foot was caught in the cavity that remains, nearly ripping the toy to shreds. 

Impulse turns his gaze to his surroundings. Trees grow from sharp rises, cliff faces of moss and lichen. No, not hills and cliffs. Homes. Lampposts overgrown with vines, flowers blooming from where lights used to shine down. Rusted iron support beams have fallen apart, tied to the ground by roots and grass. Crumbled stones and structures lay in heaping mounds, cairns of a time long past. Impulse digs the heel of his boot through the grass, and finds concrete beneath the thin layer of dirt. 

He also sees black marks on the stone walls, wooden posts charred and piles of ash tucked in the corners of homes. This must’ve been from a time before Hermitland, before the wall. 

This village was burned in the war with the nether. After all the lies he’s been fed, Impulse was starting to doubt the existence of such an event. But nothing else could explain damage like this. This is more firepower than any overworld army could do. This is why Hermitland was built. What Xisuma, Cub, and Doc were trying to protect the city and it’s people from. 

Utter ruin, total annihilation. But the line between defense and deception is so very thin, so easy to cross without ever realizing. Impulse feels the wind brush past his cheeks, his breath huffing as he stays still for just a minute. Between the broken windows and collapsed doors, he swears he can hear the voices of people long forgotten. The daily life of this village, long lost. 

Impulse can’t help his curiosity. He needs to know more, about the people of this place and how it came to ruin. He feels it’s only fair. Most of the buildings are missing roofs, left to the devices of the elements. Plants have grown over what animals haven’t taken, reclaiming the village in nature’s name. Bringing life back to a town that was once dead. Impulse clambers into one building that still has most of it’s roof, though heavily charred. The forces of nature have been kept at bay more so in this room than the rest of the village. 

It’s a library. Or, it was a library. Most of the books are gone, and the shelves have collapsed into blackened rubble. Impulse picks his way through, picking up whatever books remain. A recipe book, delicious and colorful meals making his stomach growl and ache. He hasn’t eaten in days. A manual on how to play some sort of tabletop game. Best played with three or more people. 

One book does catch Impulse’s eye. It’s a thick tome, the leather binding and yellow pages charred by the fire that had swept through the library. Portals to Other Dimensions: 3rd Edition. Impulse raises an eyebrow, and carefully flips through the pages within. They nearly crumble at his touch, but he’s able to make sense of what he’s reading. 

There may not be a way for him to get as far away from Hermitland in this dimension...but what about other dimensions? Or even other worlds? Anywhere is better than here. There’s nothing left for him here. The nether dimension is absolutely a no, but the book does mention something about another dimension. It’s vague, but something about a place full of lost things. Isn’t Impulse a lost thing? 

He flips the page, but the paper disintegrates before he can read on how to get to this End dimension. The next page says something about stone and brick. Is that how he gets to the End? He can build a portal to a different dimension, just by scrounging up stone from the ruins of this city. He can escape to the End, far away from everything the Overworld and the nether has ever done to hurt him. Make a new life in this strange new dimension, no matter how harsh it is. 

So Impulse begins to build. Tossing off his tattered buttonup, and tightening the bandage around his burns, he gathers stone and stone brick. He organizes the heavy material into an arrangement as close as he can mimic to what he hopes is the End portal. He doesn’t know what it looks like, but the book says that nether portals are six by nine meters of obsidian. If stone bricks have something to do with the end portal, then it’s reasonable for him to assume that it’ll be in a similar arrangement. 

The sun sets on the ruined city and ruined boy, but Impulse doesn’t stop. His pace becomes feverish, to the point that he actually puts his broken clock to the side so he can work without worry of breaking it more. It sits next to the open book, catching the moonlight. Impulse refuses to stop. No amount of hunger, fatigue, or pain will stop him now. He’s run so far, but not far enough. There’s still a chance he could be found in the Overworld. He needs to go beyond. 

Impulse scrambles up the lopsided portal frame, pushing his dirty, windswept hair out of his eyes as he places the keystone at the peak of the portal. One stone brick portal, which hopefully will take Impulse to the End. Impulse steps back, admiring his handiwork, and feeling his entire body screaming for him to stop. To rest, to eat, to heal. 

But his fear, his paranoia tell him to keep going. He swears he can hear voices in the distant, whispering among the leaves of the trees. People are close, or at least he can swear they are. People who want to harm Impulse. He rushes to pull out his flint and steel, not even taking the time to test the striker before sparking the portal. The rift opening nearly throws him off his feet, red swirls and sparks drifting free of the portal frame. 

He did it. He opened a portal. Hopefully, a portal to the End. Impulse grabs his clock, and steps up to the portal. In the distance of the birch forest, beyond the ever present eyes surrounding him, he can hear something howling. He doesn’t hesitate. 

Impulse leaps through the portal. His mind and body feels distorted, like he’s going to throw up. Like everything and nothing is happening to him. He exists, yet he doesn’t. Every atom of his being colliding and condensing. Until he’s out the other side. 

He stumbles forward, catching his weight on a sapling. But the young tree can’t handle the weight of the young man, and snaps. For the second time today, Impulse goes crashing to the dirt. But this time, he leaps back to his feet, ignoring the dirt and grass. His feet drag against the ground, body tired from running, low on energy. He’s running on empty, nearly burned out. Not enough to stop him from breaking his own portal. 

Impulse rips the stone portal apart, rock after rock tossed in all directions around him. The frame collapses under its weight, severing the connection between the birch forest and wherever he is now. He doesn’t care- he’s gone, in a completely different place than Hermitland. Somewhere Xisuma can’t get him. Somewhere no one...not even his best friends...could ever find him. It’s all gone, all the bad. But so is all the good. 

Days of running, without food and fighting through the painful cuts and bruises all over his body finally catches Impulse. He barely has enough forethought to step away from the rubble before his knees give out from under him. 

He’s gone before his head hits the ground.

[darkromanceblackburn]

Gorgeous Disaster PART 3

Pairing: The Collector x Reader, Asa Emory x Reader

Part one here: https://horrorslashergirl.tumblr.com/post/189377282917/gorgeous-disaster

Part two here: https://horrorslashergirl.tumblr.com/post/189615817332/gorgeous-disaster

It was morning, 9 pm more precisely and all you do is pace back and fort in your modest bedroom, your closet wide open with different types of clothes all over the place; with you in only your white lingery. You decided that for this date you wouldn’t wear the best of your lacy undergarments, because you doubted that you two will get so far as to reach the bedroom and even get your clothes off, so no point in getting all dolled up under.

Still you didn’t know what to wear, it was only a date, but to you it felt so much more, especially after all these months of solitude. You knew a first impression was very important when meeting someone; so you picked up a white buttonup blouse with red hearts pattern, black tight jeans and some red stiletto shoes that began to get dust on them for not wearing them for so much long.

Putting all your clothes on you looked into the mirror, twirling around to check if everything looked good. Now on the make-up you weren’t exaclly one to get caked on it and even if you did, now you weren’t confident enough. Your eyes locked on your long forgotten red lipstick on your nightstand. Bitting your lower lip you felt a little daring; why not? Is not like you hoped to get swept by this guy in all that lovy-dovy stuff.

After finished with your make-up, you looked over your red pouty lips, so sensual; maybe a little too much? Befor you could decide otherwise you looked over your clock, eyes wide at the time. You were supposed to meet Asa at 12 pm at the coffee shop, and your clock was ticking 11: 40 pm. Checking your hair once over, a little bit of curls here and there, you took your jacket from the hook, your keys and phone and opened your apartament door, getting out and heading to the place where you will meet your date.

Looks like the luck was on your side and the fact that you lived close to the coffee shop; checking the time it was 11: 55. Sighing in relief you opened the door, the bell anoucing your arival. It was kind of empty, an old couple at the table, chit chatting; a man writing on his laptop, but he was to old to be Asa and the old waitress that flirted with the cook. So you arrieved befor him? You needed a prize for that.

Choosing a random table you settle down, your jacket hanging on the back of the armchair. It was 11:58, maybe he ditched you or it was just a prank; so much for getting dolled up. The clock hit 12:00 and the bell anounced another customer, your eyes automatically looked up and your breath hitched up.

He looked to be 30 or something, but still handsome with brown hair and grey eyes that seemed to pierce your soul, sending you shivers down your spine. He wore a white button-up, a denim jacket, brown slacks and simple black shoes. His attire was simple, but he had that spark, that spark some men have when giving you a look-over.

“Hi there. [First Name] [Last Name], correct?” he said in a husky voice, all you could do was only nod, your mouth hanging a bit open.

He only chuckled at your expression, sitting down across from you. “Asa Emory, a pleasure to meet you.” he said and like a spell, you woke up and nodded, your eyes looking everywhere, but to him, a light pink dusting over your cheeks.

It was so embarassing, now he probably thinks you are just a clumsy little girl, it was like you couldn’t form words out of your mouth. The waitress came up to the two of you, taking your orders right away.

“So, [Name]?” Asa said as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Look I know this date is getting awkard and probably you want to end it.” you say, trying to end this silence that seemed to get you a little too much.

“Not at all [Name]. Is fine to be a little shy...Actually I find it rather cute.” he said and gave you a lopsided smile. You blushed at the comment and a dorky smile crept over your face.

“T-Thank you...is just that is been a while since I went on a date, so I am a little clumsy at this.” you admitted, trying to get as much words as you could.

“I feel you. I am not much of a dater too, but you seemed a very decent girl, unlike others.” he said the last part with a little venom. He taught about all these whores that he kidnapped and killed, reasabling their bodies to look like a centipede, but you didn’t needed to know this little detail about him; well, not now at last.

“I am taking that as a compliment and likewise. You were the only one that could put up a conversation without been a pervert.” you said, giggling.He rested his fist on his cheek as he listened to you talk, getting a little more confident in your words.

He could remember how you looked 6 months ago, all beaten up and bloody, your lower lip busted, criss-crossed cuts all over your back. Looking over your red painted lips he was oh so tempted to trail is bowie knife between them, but he knew that patience was the key, at last now, because last time you kicked him in the balls, trying to escape.

His other hand ghosted over one of yours, making you freeze mid-sentence at the delicate touch. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as he never broke eyes contact with you. Your cheeks felt like they were on flame, making feel all hot with shyness.

“You know [Name], you look so beautiful, butterfly.” again with that nickname, but hearing it come directly from his mouth, made your stomach do flip-flops, like it was full of butterflys, hench the irony.

After that comment you two continued to talk abut likes and dislikes in eachother, like you did online, only it was face to face and it fet more naturally, rather than writing over a chat-box.

As you both finished the coffee, you two took on a walk; it was already getting afternoon, the sun falling down with the clock ticking away. Still the date went on and on, like it would never end and it was kind of magic; to know that 6 months ago you probably would have died if not for your feisty attitude.

“We probably should end this date, have work tomorrow and I need to get back to my dogs.” Asa said, your hand still in yours, like if he let go you would dissapear. You nodded feeling a little sad that you had to say goodbye. He took your chin between his index finger and thumb and pulled your face up, so your eyes could meet his grey ones.

“Hey, don’t be sad. I’m gonna make it up to you and how does a second date sound? Next weekend?” he asked as he strocked your chin, like a master would do to his pet. All you could do was nod, your face a blushing mess.

“S-Sure, Asa.” you shuttered, your eyes looking away from his. One of his hands ghosted over the back of your waist, pulling you flush against his broad frame. Before you could say anything a pair of plush lips touched yours, moving in a gentle dance. You couldn’t believe it, Asa was kissig you, a kiss after so long it felt like it was your first one. Your hands grasped at his denim jacket, feeling a little dizzy. Before you could do anything he pulled away gently, giving you one last peck on the corner of your lips.

“See ya then butterfly.” Asa said as you two parted away. You stood there for some minutes, seeing his figure dissapear in the distance, then a wide grin stretched across your face, like you won the lottery. You walked back home, never breaking that smile full of hope and joy.

On the other hand.....Asa opened the door to his two-story house, Hellstrom and Burkhard already at his feet. He had a smirk across his face, as he touched his lips, imagine the sweet taste you had on, like strawberry maybe? Anyway, it was so sweet and the fact that he got you tangle in his web ws making him swell with pride.

You looked even more beautiful than he remembered, maybe because then you were full of blood, but still stunning. You were good enough to eat and he couldn’t wait for the next weekend. Slow baby steps, he remineded himself.

Still until next weekend there was a full week ahead and so many more victims to torture and collect. [Name] could wait....you were already trapped in his mind game.

To be continued.....

[cowboydiem]

for ur ask thing!! footloose, pretty in pink, E.T. and young guns!!

THANK YOU MOSS!! i am literally so excited about these asks lol

footloose: who did you last dance with?

my younger sister!! our favourite method of publicly humiliating our friends & family is to break into dance every time we hear a song we know. today it was in the chiropractor’s office lmao

pretty in pink: what’s your signature ‘look’?

i don’t really think i have a signature ‘look’?? my clothes are just a random array of whatever items i see at the thrift store and think “must have” lmao. a lot of rock band t-shirts, patterned buttonups, high-waisted jeans, big clunky shoes

e.t.: what’s one ‘weird’ feature that you love about yourself?

genuinely adore all my scars, stretch marks, freckles, etc. though i’m not sure those count as ‘weird.’ looking at my skin and remembering the stories behind it is very comforting

young guns: what’s one style that you love on others, but would never try yourself?

anything vaguely scene will inevitably make me look like a pete wentz cosplayer and i... can’t lmao. most particularly feminine styles won’t work on me either, i feel i’m best suited to more androgynous looks

[demialwrites]

Worthy of His Devotion Ch 2

The next few relatively uneventful weeks that went by were torturous. He masturbated plenty but he couldn't help feeling you could have been there each time. At the most, you asked him for lewd pics. He readily sent them, thinking he should be feeling whipped. But he didn't. He kept hoping you would return the favour but was too timid to ask. His neediness was partially the fault of your boss, who kept coming into the shared office to talk to you. He didn't dare show his need while that man could walk in at any moment. It wasn't long after that that you started messaging him.

Can you bring an extra tie tomorrow? You've been good lately and we both deserve some fun Okay You didn't even ask what it's for! I'm pleased :) Thank you, Mistress 🌹 I like that, keep it up Yes, Mistress His temperature skyrocketed the next day when you sat on the edge of his desk, a predatory glare on your face. You let him stew a few seconds before speaking. "Bring the tie." You beckoned him with a finger and left towards the closet. He followed obediently after grabbing the tie from a drawer. You put your hands on him and maneuvered him to the back of the closet. Taking the belt from his slacks and the tie from his neck, you tied his hands above his head with the belt and blinded his eyes with the tie. You took the spare tie and gagged him. To make it perfect, you undid the front of his buttonup shirt and pulled it open with a flourish to let you gaze upon his muscled front. You stepped back and admired, a smile on your face. Your man-sized meal just waiting for you to eat him up. Which you were gonna. You undid his slacks and pulled them down. With how tall he was, you were going to have to bend down instead of kneeling. "I haven't done anything to you. Why are you hard?" He might need to change his underwear again from the precum soaking the front. You pulled them down to free his cock and heavy balls, hanging from neatly trimmed dark purple hair. Ignoring the husky plea he made, you reached around to squeeze his ass. He gasped in surprise, bucking forward. "Hold still!" you snapped, pushing his hips back. He nodded vigorously. "Mhmm!" "You're a little bitch in a big body, aren't you?" He whined lowly but his cock jumped. You had enough of making him wait for pleasure so you took the base of it in both hands and engulfed the tip in your mouth. It almost took up all the room in there. He mumbled repeatedly what sounded like "Thank you, thank you!" You sucked as much as you could fit and stroked the rest. His tummy muscles rolled just above, a cute treasure trail matching his pubic hair cutting down it. You gave the thick head one last swirl with your tongue and pulled your mouth off with a lewd pop. He hummed in question, trying his best to sound submissive. "You didn't do anything wrong, Baby. I'm just not done with you yet." Lance was silent. He didn't know how to respond when he heard that. "That's a good boy. Stay like that." You stuffed his cock down his undies and pulled them to stop it from popping out. You stood on your toes to give him an open-mouthed kiss and he sucked on your tongue as best he could around the gag, trying to keep you there. Too bad; you left the closet. He licked his lips, remembering your taste. You came back half an hour later. Lance trembled when the door opened, fearing it was someone else. He could be fired. He was right to be fearful but part of the fun was the danger. His cock was half hard, shamefully enjoying this embarrassing position he was in. Your hands roughly felt him up and down beneath his open shirt. You sucked on his nipples, making them hard, and then nibbling on the little nubs. He panted wetly behind his saliva-soaked tie, fully hardening again. He exhaled sadly when you left his space. Then he cried out when you put a binder clip on one of his nipples. He kept his volume down to a low whimper when you placed the second one. "Good boy," you purred, tickling your fingers tips up the middle of his chest. It was still well before the end of the day when you and he would have to go home and you couldn't keep your desire to yourself anymore. Plenty of time to take it to the next level. You pulled down his underwear again. Lance waited, wondering what he was in for next. "I can't take it anymore, Big Boy. I want you." He gave a long hum, trying to communicate his own want for you. You pulled up your skirt and pulled down your panties, whispering, "Sheesh," to yourself at how wet they were. Twisting around, you grabbed his cock and tried to guide him into position. He took awkward little steps towards you. "Can you get lower, Big Boy? You're too tall." He bent his knees enough that you could slip him between your thighs. One last tease. You squeezed your thighs together and he threw his head back to moan. "Too much?" "Nn-mm, nn-mm." He shook his head. The closet had shelves on all sides. You braced yourself on the closest one to yourself. Getting him inside you was an ordeal but you were determined and he was patient. Mostly, with a low, mournful moan every so often. "Oh, jeez," you whispered, him fully inside and you fully stretched. You could feel every twitch, every throb, of his cock. "Move, Lance." He was breathing hard with the effort to be gentle and not break into a fast pace. He wanted your screams. He wanted to moan along with you. Make you cum and then fill you right after. Surely, then he could be yours to use as you pleased. He didn't want you to use him and leave him. He was hooked on pleasing you. "Oh, god, Lance," you moaned. His massive cock drove all sorts of noises out of you. Mostly a lot of "fuck, fuck, fuck," and "don't you dare stop, you bitch." You clung to the shelf with both arms as your legs threatened to collapse beneath you. It was great that he couldn't see the mess he was making of you. Both of you would need to go home and change your sweaty clothes after this. "Faster, Baby," you commanded breathlessly, not fully confident you could take it. He did so, a gentle fwap, fwap, fwap of his hips meeting your ass. You bit down on your forearm to keep the moans muffled. But this couldn't go on forever. Maybe at home it could but not here. Praying you could stay upright with just one arm for support, you started to rub your throbbing clit. Your inner walls closed on him on reflex. Lance couldn't keep his orgasm down anymore. Not that he was ever good at doing that. The clips tugging on his nipples when he moved and your squeezing cunt, it drained all the discipline from his body in seconds flat. His grunted, jaw tensed, and drove into you until he got the glorious release he sought. His cock emptied all of his balls into you, some dribbling down his shaft and onto the floor in fat drops before it became sticky. You felt all of it, some also falling onto your panties. It was so warm inside. The poor man, your orgasm pained his oversensitive cock. He seethed through the gag as you whined into your arm. Still, he loved it. He would take all sorts of pain if it meant your pleasure. Then he blushed, feeling like a fool. If he didn't watch himself carefully, he could see himself falling for you very soon.

[35min]

for character solidifying: 25, 26, and 27?

                                             ( character solidifying | accepting )

What are their hobbies and interests?

             so adrian’s generally the type who leaves very little room for free time; he maximizes efficiency and he’s got a lot on his plate that his perfectionism demands he deal with personally. overseeing a massive mega-corporate conglomerate and making sure he has a definitive say in all major decisions in the divisions bearing his name in addition to following through with a 20-year plan to solve incoming nuclear annihilation is. a lot to deal with. long stretches of free time don’t come often. when they do, they’re few and far between, not really optimal for an ongoing hobby. it doesn’t help that adrian can’t stand stagnation, either — and a habit of reading anything he could get his hands on as a child has matured to just learning new hobbies and trades when he has time for the pure sake of knowing how. adrian’s an absolute knowledge sink in that he just likes to know things and to learn things and it’s easy for him to go from ‘earlier this week i wondered whether beeswax or soy candles are better’ to ‘i prototyped these candles last night, send them to home goods & appliances, we can bundle it with an electric warmer for smokeless apartments’              i mean, it takes a lot out of him because humans just aren’t meant to take that kind of consistent stress but he also genuinely likes what he does, so not really having a hobby is fine.              if you want to call it a consistent hobby, we can talk about how adrian tracks down and buys anthropological artifacts that pique his interest. a lot of it is grecian and mesopotamian, but the collection as a whole is global; the whole of it is meant to showcase a display of the annuls of human history.

What does your character’s home look like? 

             i would like to preface this with the following: for all his socialist accusations and left-leaning ideals, adrian veidt is a remorseless capitalist who will be the first against the wall when the revolution comes don’t let him fool u             so you opened up a whole can of worms with this one because we have two types of residence here: there’s his new york penthouse, and then there’s the antarctic vivarium. both of these are aesthetically opposed and come to represent the dichotomy of adrian-as-veidt and adrian-as-ozymandias — less in what he means, but in what you’re expecting of him.             veidt tower got a complete facelift during the 1976 remodel that branded it distinctively as absolutely being owned by former-mask ozymandias and is a much-toned down version of the aesthetic at karnak, but the uppermost floors remained mostly untouched. even ascending from the middle-ground of his office, there’s an utterly jarring difference between the hathoric columns and sculpture pressed against the reliefs in the walls to austere steel-and-stone minimalism. i’m talking greys and blacks and whites and gold accents and polished marble floors that nearly don’t have anything to reflect off of them. there are very few personal touches; framed prints, a few display cases here and there, bookshelves packed to the brim, but it hardly looks like someone truly lives there. the most notable features in this residence are a small-scale version of his monitor system ( around 20 screens, kept to its own room, ) and the ceiling; veidt tower is capped with a dark glass pyramid that makes the building look like a massive obelisk, and the glass, while heavily tinted, is translucent enough to be quite impressive to anyone looking up on the topmost floor, and the balcony surrounding it counts as roof access.            karnak is the ozymandias aesthetic at its logical conclusion. its referred to as a fortress or a retreat, but adrian only ever calls it his vivarium — and considering there’s a four-mile-diameter tropical greenhouse and the living building is absolutely covered in proof of life; planters in every other corner, troughs of florals, and a small-scale aquarium that serves as partner to the main vivarium’s second-purpose as a lepidopterarium. of course, there’s also an artificial water system, fountains, etc.; it seems like a space for entertaining, though adrian rarely does so. now the actual lived-in building is a three-floor complex and it’s like. big, yall. a large portion of the lower quarters is pure museum ( the aforementioned artifact collecting usually ends up here, ) and also features rooms with: a large pool; a gymnastic training facility; an absurdly spacious alcove that contains nothing but a chair, a recording device, a 6x6 wall of monitors, and a bunch of clocks; a combined lounge/dining area; at least a few guest rooms; a fucking orrery???; and a few laboratory-type areas … and that’s just what’s explicit canon. and then there’s the aesthetic of it all, which is all supersaturated paint and new kingdom architecture, taking inspiration from the actual temple complex of karnak. there’s still a very pervasive sense of rigid aesthetic here, but it’s more so in that everything absolutely has its place. while the penthouse feels like no one lives in it because it’s a display home, but karnak feels like a museum: vivid and full of life, but life just beyond your grasp.             aesthetically he’s been blending his personas since unmasking. it’s then that you see black suits get replaced with jewel toned fitted jackets with gilded lapel pins, lapis-inlay cufflinks, the sort of subtle call to identity that you wouldn’t expect someone who used to fight crime in royal silk and gold lame would have. and that blends into:

How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality?

            personal style! adrian puts a lot of effort into this. he’s made the ‘if you want to call me the best-groomed man that’s fine too’ joke more than once and it always comes off as a little facetious but goddamn if it’s not true. he tries! this is the kind of man who has a personal esthetician! you will not catch him slipping in terms of personal appearance, because it’s sort of his entire brand.              the black-suit tradition of business-formal has always been a bit of a bore to adrian, and he’s always had a splash of color in his wardrobe ( bright shirts, saturated ties, etc., ) but after ‘75 he’d abandoned all pretense and started dressing far louder, as previously mentioned. when it comes to casual dress, it’s bold of you to assume he’s got time for it that isn’t ‘you’re just wearing a turtleneck instead of a buttonup,’ and ‘not wearing a tie doesn’t techically make it business casual.’              adrian prefers double-breasted designs to single-breasted ones, american vs. italian or english, typically four- or six-button, peak lapels, flap pockets.