#t's filthy my dudes

[dukeoftheblackstar]

I need Plo to choke me with that belt like...Yesterday. Like he can leave little scratches and cuts when he spanks me with those hands of his. OMG those hands. He can leave marks on my throat while he dicks me down into whatever surface.

Hello there, new-found bestie cakes ♥ ~

I see you speak my language ♥. So let me just introduce you to my Dom!Plo ♥ @mild-disorganization

Dom!Plo would have no qualms walking up to you without any reason or trigger only to grab you firmly by the throat and back you up against the wall, a temple pillar, or a glass window overlooking Coruscant's bustling streets.

He'd dig what I love to call 'love burrows' along that slender neck of yours with those might-sharp talons just enough to puncture your skin a teeny, tiny, little bit so itty, bitty, round pools of rubies leave marks.

He'd then utter something about, "What an exhilarating feat to add to that delicate neck of yours, my little pet."

Dom!Plo would retract his hand in a way that he'd leave a few cuts, angling it enough not to strike a nerve and kill you, but enough to leave long, red trails down past the dip of your clavicles ♥.

Because of your dirty thoughts of him bestiecakes, Dom!Plo needs to set you straight >:[ Can't have little naughties mucking about the temple now, can we?

Bad for the temple. Bad for his rep too since he's your charge.

And so, Dom!Plo sighs in an exasperated fashion while unbuckling a very luxurious leather belt that he had procured from his recent home visit to Dorin ♥ — a fine, rust-toned, leather belt that smacked deliciously with a swift pull from his waist.

Dom!Plo motions for for you to come with his index and babe, you best not keep the General waiting. He's got meetings to go to ♥ Babes to punish (I'm in line ♥) for being improper and unruly.

Fortunate to be one of them, Dom!Plo will heedlessly grab you by the back of your neck to be at a close proximity before lacing that fine, opulent, Dorin-made leather belt and lock that buckle tight enough for you to wince when you swallow.

Dom!Plo would then incautiously grab you by the jaw, talons prodding your cheek while he looks at you with so much disdain because he's supposed to be meditating, but no — he's here with your cute, bratty ass ♥

"Hm. Cute little tart and yet — with such a pretty, filthy mouth." Another 'Hm' of dismay before probing your lips to part with his thumb, shoving it so forcefully that your teeth and lips graze along his hide/skin.

You can feel the tip of his spur poke at your tongue, moving seamlessly past your protest and further down your throat as if to inspect your depth capacity.

Because, babe. My Plo packs a whopping 13-inch alien dick, so you best be primmed.

"Good enough." You'll hear him say, retracting his finger with so much candor, it'll leave you abandoned with want.

And so, the same hand rests on that beautiful crown of yours, guiding you to descend to yours knees — of which you comply so dutifully, like a good girl indeed ♥

Seeing as this man is on a fucking schedule, Dom!Plo whips out the disco stick and gives himself a couple of strokes here and there; from the hilt to every ridged inch of his cock, Dom!Plo would trace each curve as he forces you to look down at what's about to cum — see what I did there bestie? I cannot be taken serious, tbh. ♥ — what's about to come.

Dom!Plo, however, has jealousy issues 😩😩😩

He doesn't like it when you pay more attention to his cock than him; it's mind over matter, baby — but by the stars, does his cock matter ♥

Remember that belt around your neck, bestie? How it connects to his other hand with that leather belt coiled for control? He'll tug it, babe — tug it hard so it'll knot you right up and leave you breathless for a hot minute. Literally.

"Up here, little love." You'll hear him coo, quite darkly.

And just when those magnetic eyes of yours had welled up with enough tears to stain your smooth, soft cheeks, Dom!Plo would take the Blade of Dorin (yes, we're calling his dick that, don't argue) and rub it all over your mouth making you chase that dick like the cock-starved whore you are ♥, respectfully.

And once he's quite happy with the lower chambers of your face glistening with precum and your own saliva, he'd pry your mouth open with his dick and slide that bad boy so slow you'd thank him for it ♥ Why, you ask?

Because you're not the Force, babe. Nothing in this chaotic galaxy will ever stop Dom!Plo from giving you the dicking of your life because you've stolen precious moments of his respite with your foolishness.

And so, you feel it, right? You feel every inch stuff your mouth that no only but a fraction of your breath seeps through. You feel every inch and ridge; the dip and curve of this Kel Dor's cock through the cavernous walls of your mouth until it begins knocking down your throat.

Naturally, protesting ensues. Your grip at his thigh, either pulling him more with your impatient, cute ass or you're pushing him to calm TF down because bestie, death by dick is a real thing.

Dom!Plo doesn't like unruly baby girls or boys. That said, he'll pull on that belt again while he shoves his girthy-thicc cock down your throat it actually bulges down your neck.

I don't know about you hun, but I'm sure that'll make you gag and if you do and go urk urk urk urk on that dick, Dom!Plo would sweetly wipe that tear off your cheek only to slap you gently with two of his fingers.

"Louder." You'll hear him say.

He's old, babe. 384 years of age means you gotta speak tf up.

Dom!Plo would lean his hips back enough to keep half of it in and half of it out. So you know, you don't die and practice safe sex.

But since you took that regal slide of his dick like a champ, you'd notice his tusk move and the exposed portion of his cheek compress in what you can make off as a smile — a smirk, really.

"Now, make your master cum like the good little tart you are, my sweet." Comes that reverberating voice of his that sounds so decadently dark and sultry, cupping your cheek and caressing your face with his thumb jamming his cock back in your mouth while the same hand that held your leash of a belt would occasionally pull at random patterns, meriting stifled groans and grunts from your Kel Dor General.

His pace would quicken eventually, claws nestled over your crown while fingers laced with a handful of your groomed locks.

It'd be such a delight and honor to see his head reel back as he mouth fucks the soul out of you, truly a spectacular sight. Seeing him against the evil forces that burn within his soul to say things like 'Fuck, you're so good' or the likes because bestie, that's very un-Jedi of him >:[

So in turn, he just continues to ram his cock so far down your throat at such a paced speed that you feel him thicken inside your mouth, only to cum fucking buckets down your throat, pull mid-way so he can creampie those charming lips of yours and watch as hot, white ropes of Kel Dor essence drip past your chin, trickle down your throat and some on those tantalizing anti-stress tits that happens to be a Kel Dor fave.

Satiated, Dom!Plo would have you lick the cum off his own cock because he wouldn't want to feel all sticky underneath those slacks of his. He also won't forget yanking that belt around your neck so you get to lick the parts that needs cleaning.

With all said and done, Dom!Plo would unbuckle the belt off your neck and tilt your head left to right with but the tip of his talon. Pleased to see scratch marks, dots, and lightly smeared bloodlets over your skin, not to mention the welts left by the leather belt around your neck, he'd give you an approving nod.

Dom!Plo however does not do aftercare. That would be Plo Koon's job or Regular!Plo. Dom!Plo would merely give your head a pat, a ruffle of the hair, and if he's feeling extra generous, would press his rebreather onto your forehead in a kiss of sorts before leaving you with instructions to "... Mediate on your unrighteous desires, little one. The path of the dark side looms within those sinful thoughts."

THE END.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[kylestfs]

Room 214

Albert Summers had been driving for hours, he was absolutely exhausted and needed to stop somewhere. At 45, he didn’t have the ability to drive as much as he did before. He found a nice Motel on the side of the highway. It wasn't much, but it would do for the night.

As he went to check in, the receptionist said

"Room 214, sleep well” as she handed him the keys.

Walking upstairs, Albert dragged his suitcase to the hallway, which was dimly lit as he found his room and unlocked the door. He found a standard hotel room, with a bed, a small desk, a chair and…a pile of dirty looking clothes in the corner, obviously left by the previous occupant of room 214.

His first thought was to return them to the lobby, but as he grabbed them to do so, he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust…the pile contained socks, a weird looking underwear which he’d later find to be a jockstrap, tight gym shorts and a stained shirt which were all unwashed and absolutely filthy. They smelled so bad they stunk up the entire room and left a weird aura.

Albert decided to call a hotel receptionist to get rid of the clothes, and almost immediately heard knocking on the door. Opening it, he found a huge 6’2 young man with bulging muscles, wearing similar clothes to the ones left in the room. The man also smelled the same as the clothes, but Albert wasn’t sure if it was coming from the room or the jock. Before he could say anything, the jock engaged.

“Yo man, I’m Andrew, lemme check on these for you.”

He said, with a confident and lowkey dumb tone. The jock. entered the room and looked at the clothes, confused.

“Bro, these are yours!” Andrew said, leaving Albert confused.

“No they’re not! They were here when I came in, and you can tell I obviously wouldn’t even fit in them”

Andrew smirked then replied “Nah man, those are definetly yours…you wore them for a week straight.”

“What? No t-“

Before Albert could finish his sentence, Andrew shoved the smelly shirt directly on his face.

The pungent, musky odor filled his nostrils, making his eyes water. Albert tried to pull away, but Andrew's grip was obviously really strong, he just got a glimpse of his bulging muscles as he kept the shirt on him.

"Breathe it in, man. Really take it in," Andrew commanded, his voice low and hypnotic.

Albert felt a weird feeling he needed to obey him, and he did. He inhaled deeply, the overpowering scent clouding his mind as he started feeling a tingling sensation spreading through his body. His mind started to feel foggy, his thoughts slowing down.

"See? Starting to remember now, huh? That’s my boy!" Andrew said, his tone almost teasing.

Andrew now lowered the shirt with his left hand and took a sock with his right one, then held it to Albert's face.

"Smell this one. It's yours, dude."

He said, shoving it deeper in Albert’s nose, making the foot funk absolutely vomit worthy and making him unable to think straight, but he found himself leaning in, taking another deep breath. The smell was even stronger, more intense. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. His body felt hot, his skin prickling with heat and starting to become mattered with sweat.

Andrew's voice became a steady rhythm, guiding Albert deeper into the haze. "You love that smell, don't you?

It's who you are. You're a jock, bro. Just like me."

Albert's resistance was fading. He nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over.

The words were starting to make sense, the truth sinking into his mind permanently.

"Yeah, you get it. Now, check this out."

Andrew lifted his own arm, exposing his hairy, sweat mattered armpit. The smell was overwhelming, a mix of musk and sweat that filled the room and showed an obvious lack of any kind of hygiene.

"Take a whiff, man. Smell what it's like to be a real jock."

Albert leaned in, almost involuntarily, and inhaled deeply. The scent was intoxicating, filling his lungs and clouding his thoughts completely. His body began to change, muscles swelling, skin tightening. His clothes felt tight as his frame grew larger, more muscular.

His feet lengthened, filling out his shoes until they felt snug. The odor from his feet mingled with the room, becoming a powerful mix of French cheese, melted butter and salty sweat. His height shot up, now matching Andrew's at 6'2". His rear became a firm, round bubble butt, perfect in its shape and size, making his shorts stretch and almost snap. His digestive system took a turn as it was now ready to sprout gas every 5 minutes or so.

As his transformation continued, his thoughts became simpler, focused on physical desires and sensations. His IQ dropped, his mind becoming that of a dumb jock, carefree and confident. His age quickly regressed, reaching 20 years old. His skin becoming smooth and youthful.

"Bro, you're looking sick," Andrew said, grinning.

"Now, flex for me. Let's see those muscles."

Albert-now fully Parker flexed his new, bulging biceps, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Hell yeah dude”

His personality had shifted completely.

He was loud, arrogant, and loved his new body. His pits were hairy and strong-smelling, his face chiseled and handsome. His breath was hot and slightly stale, a testament to his new careless attitude towards hygiene as he brushed his teeth less frequently, adding to his raw, primal appeal.

Sexuality was no longer a question. He was 100% straight, but was also was irresistibly drawn to his own body, admiring his muscles, his scent, and his raw masculinity. His kinks emerged quickly-enjoying his own smell, flexing in the mirror, and reveling in his own farts. His package was impressive, soft at 10 cm and swelling to 20 cm, with fat hairy balls underneath, barely fitting in regular underwear’s.

Andrew clapped him on the back, the sound echoing in the room. "Welcome back to the team, bro. Let's hit the gym tomorrow and show off those gains."

Parker laughed, a deep, hearty sound.

"You got it, man.” Then sprouted a massive fart that Andrew couldn’t help but sniff.

As they left the room and walked down the hallway, the scent of sweat, dirty feet and farts was trailing behind them, soon to be smelled by all kinds of chicks who’ll spend the night at room 214.

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick It Spit It - where'd you put it (extra)

A/n: thought I'd add a lil smth smth since everyone's loving the previous story, enjoy you horny mfs MUAH 💋

Warnings - suggestiveness not really any smut. Still mdni just in case doe <3

The original - masterlist

After that blissed out night, you've been wearing that underwear. All. The. Time. And she loved it, it drove her mental. Whether you were just wearing a plain t-shirt with them around the house. You'd wear them with skirts in public. You were like an intoxicating drug in her eyes, mind and soul. She truly couldn't get enough.

So much so, you found them missing on occasion. Either they were in the wash, or Ms Eilish had them somewhere in her possession. Theyd tend to go missing when you take them off after a long day. Her fucking favorite. Once you eventually caught on it was her doing the abducting, you came to her. Justtt to ask. Even though you had all the idea on why she did.

"Bils." You say going over to her and patting her down. "Frisky much?" She replies. "Where on earth have you put them." She brings her finger up to her lips. " 's a secret." You roll your eyes. "Billieeee." "Fine fine, they're probably in my pants on the sofa in our room." Your eyebrow raises. "Probably?" She shrugs. "Orrr they could be in a few others- I can't remember which." You sigh at the response. "You're crazy." You say heading for the stairs. "For you? Fuck yeah baby!"

It had become a habit that she'd stick them in her Jean pants. She'd take it to work sometimes forgetting where she was, and the fact she still had them in there until Finneas embarrassed the shit out of her. Or more so herself.

"We could maybe do something like this-" He began to speak about the stuff they were working on, when he noticed something on the floor. He knew Clauds underwear and that was something she definitely didn't own. "What on earth." He bends slightly, picking it up. Billies eyes widen, so incredibly wide her eyes might've popped out. Her cheeks go so red, snatching them out of his hand. Fuck, you dumbass idiot. She swallows. There was an awkward silence wondering how he was going to react. When this dude, let's out the wheeziest laugh known to man.

Billies eyes rest, almost glearing at him. "That is not funny, I can't believe that just fucking happened." He tries to control his laughter. "You truly are a dumbass." She swats his arm but he just continues his giggles. "Back to work come on." She spits, having enough of the laughing. "I was like- hmm Claudia doesn't own anything this-" "FINNEAS." She groans. He just laughs some more, she was never living that down. But Billie being Billie she eventually joins in on the laughing, shaking her head at the silly situation.

Yet again you were on the search for them, looking through most of her pants. You gave up in the end, calling her.

"You have them as we speak don't you."

"Well damn, you caught me."

Even during she needed them. Just the fact such a tight slutty thing was on your body for the whole day drove her wild, she didn't care in the slightest how filthy any action may be. Sniffing them, so on and so on. One of her filthy fantasies was you having them in your mouth, as you rode her. Just dangling there between your teeth. You were a tad bit confused at why she requested that, but the way she'd moan under you. The way she'd say your name. The feeling of her fingertips on the skin of your thighs as you rode her. Mixed in with your tits bouncing in her face. It was foul, but she enjoyed every single bit of it.

She was so thankful you went into that shop that day. Blessing not only you with a pretty pair of new underwear. But her aswel, getting the pleasure of witnessing it first hand.

You're welcome

[octuscle]

Road Trip to a new life

Bloody hell, Chuck thought to himself! They can't just forget me here! His football team was on its way home from an away game. A very successful away game. And they all had their star quarterback to thank for that. And that was him, that was Chuck. And now they had all just taken a pee break. At a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. And hey, Chuck had been flirting with the cute waitress at the diner. And yes, he had fucked her in the broom closet. Hehehe, he thought to himself for a brief moment. A map of the state, showing the broom closets where he'd fucked basement girls, cheerleaders, or even teachers from schools he'd usually flunked out of shortly afterward. That would be a cool idea! His grin didn't last long. Shit, the team bus had left. Without him. And now he was standing here in the rain with no idea how he was going to get home.

A truck came to a halt next to him. A horn sounded very loudly. Chuck didn't react yet. The passenger door opened and a bearded guy looked out. "Son, you look lost. Can I give you a ride?" Chuck hesitated for a moment. He was still far too confused, far too angry to think clearly. "Sure, that would be cool," he replied. And climbed into the cab of the monstrous truck. It smelled of cigar smoke and sweat. Chuck looked at the driver. A short, slightly overweight guy. Unkempt. The dirty T-shirt ended just above the large belt buckle and showed a roll of flab. A greasy mullet peeked out from under the trucker's cap. Shit, Chuck thought to himself. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea. The trucker lit a half-smoked cigar. "My name is Pete. If you want one too, there's one in the compartment right in front of you. Chuck shook his head, tensed his biceps and said, "Chuck! Thanks for the ride. And I don't smoke. I'm an athlete." Pete stretched out his right arm and felt Chuck's biceps. "Hm, feels good. It'd be a shame if you stopped working out." He blew a puff of smoke in Chuck's direction. And his hand moved towards Chuck's chest. "Wait, wait," Chuck moved to the right in a sit. "No homo, dude. I only fuck pussy." The driver just glanced briefly in Chuck's direction and smiled. His teeth were nicotine yellow. "I don't care what YOU fuck." He blew another puff of smoke in Chuck's direction, pulled his hand back and began kneading the bulge in his crotch. "Thanks for the ride, I think I'd better get off now." Another puff of smoke. Chuck went dizzy. "Comrade, the next stop isn't for another six hours. We have a schedule to meet." Chuck tried to keep a clear head. But the smoke was making him tired. His head felt like it was full of absorbent cotton. "All right, Pete," he mumbled. And fell asleep.

It was dark outside when Pete shook him by the shoulder. "Get up, sleepyhead. We'll take a break in fifteen minutes and then change drivers. Chuck yawned and stretched. Driver change? What was Pete talking about? And more important now was his latte. South of his big belt buckle, Chuck made a big tent in his pants. Of course Pete had noticed it long ago. He had long since taken his puny boner out of his pants and was wanking it. As a passenger, you had your duties. And it was still a quarter of an hour's drive. It wasn't the first time Chuck had blown someone in a driver's cab. Driver's cabs, filthy toilets in truck stops, broom closets in cheap diners. He could manage anywhere. How long had he been driving aimlessly on the highways now? Two years? Got there. You had to take what you could get. And Pete was actually out of his league. But he took him a good part of the way. Gratitude was a must.

Chuck walked a little wide-legged towards the restrooms at the service station. Pete must have cum. Chuck hadn't yet. They wouldn't be driving on for another hour at the earliest. It was going to be hell if he didn't find someone to fuck by then. In the light of a lantern, he leaned against the wall, his erection still clearly visible. He took a cigar from his leather vest, lit it and waited. Almost five minutes. Then a greasy business traveler in a cheap suit walked past him. A look that lasted a little too long. A grab in the crotch. A mumbled "20 without a rubber?". And everything was clear. It had been a few days since Chuck had showered, but the guy was still greedily going down on Chuck's greasy, cheesy cock. Premium beef. Yes, that described his cock very well. And this premium beef had just been sucked clean for 20 dollars. And then Chuck sank it into the guy's ass.

Chuck couldn't understand guys like Pete. When you were out on the street, you had to take care of your body. Okay, Chuck more than others, his body was his asset after all. But while Chuck shoveled in lots of chips and a big burger and drank three pitchers of beer, Chuck ate his steak and salad, drank water and used the last few minutes before leaving to do a few pull-ups and push-ups at the fitness station behind the toilets. A few other long-distance drivers loitered around him. If they hadn't had to drive on, Chuck could certainly have earned a few more dollars. But as it was, he climbed into the driver's seat. If he hadn't had to drive, he would certainly have had a few beers. As it was, another cigar would have to do. Pete snored in the back of his bunk. Chuck turned the radio up a little louder to stay awake. And he steered the truck south through the night.

At the next break and before the driver change, Chuck was able to earn a few more dollars. There were many truck stops where he was known as a colorful dog. When you heard his heavy footsteps and the creaking of the leather, it was like a bell on a Pavlovian dog. Chuck had been traveling the country for many years. A mixture of hustler, temporary trucker and casual laborer. He had flunked out of college at some point. Stupid thing to do. He'd had a thing with a woman once. And she'd claimed he'd raped her. That taught him a lesson, since then he only fucked men. They appreciated his mouth, his ass and his cock. And paid well.

Somewhere in New Mexico, Pete threw Chuck out of the truck. He had to be out of the cab before the finish line. Pete would be in big trouble if it came out that he had let someone else drive the truck. He thanked Chuck with a masterful blowjob and a box of Cuban cigars. They would probably never see each other again. The country was big… Chuck rarely got in the same truck twice.

Chuck loved the feeling of the sun on his body. He was able to use the stop for an extensive open-air workout, a good meal, two lucrative fucks and even a shower. Now let's see where he was going. He stood by the road. It wasn't five minutes before a car stopped and the driver asked him if he could give him a lift. Chuck only asked if he could smoke in the car. Only if he didn't just put the cigar in his mouth, was the answer. Chuck got in the car. On the road again!

Pics by @ki-kink

[reyadawn]

Magnetic

*image not mine, credit goes to Bryan/Jolly 😅*

Summary: Relationships of any kind can be filled with a multitude of emotions...especially when the lines of friends-with-benefits become blurred and they keep coming back for more than just physicality...

Pairings: Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x reader

Warnings: 🔞+, language, heavy smut (kissing, choking, hair pulling, degredation, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie)

Word Count: 🤷‍♀️

First Jolly fic so please bare with me and be kind 😅 Enjoy! 😉❤️

Inspired by Wage War's Magnetic. Have a listen below!

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

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Jolly absenmindedly plucked at the strings of his guitar, the irritation and frustration on his face shrouded by the black baseball cap he wore. Biting his lower lip, he closed his eyes momentarily as he tried picturing the notes and music in his head but those thoughts immediately shifted to her instead. Flashes of her dark auburn hair. Dark, illustrious eyes. Curves in all the right places.

Jolly's fingers slipped on one of the strings and he flinched at the off key sound. Sighing heavily, he set his guitar down, running his hands over his face, as he reclined back in his chair.

A hand on Jolly's shoulder temporarily broke through his frustration as he swiveled in his chair. Noah's dark features came into view, also partly consealed in a baseball cap.

"You alright, man?", Noah asked, brows furrowed in concern. Jolly shook his head but didn't respond. Noah sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's her...isn't it?".

"I can't get her out of my head. She's fucking with me even being able to record properly. I mean...I'm missing songs that I know like the back of my hand...I don't know what the hell it is", Jolly replied, voice laced with irritation. Noah blinked once before tipping his head back and erupting into a full belly laugh, the tattoos on his neck coming into full view.

"Are you fucking for real, bro?", Jolly barked, scowling at his best friend. Once Noah got control of his laughter he stood, clapping a hand on Jolly's shoulder again.

"It's called 'love' for a reason, dude. I've been fortunate to only experience it once or twice in my life and trust me when I say, it consumes you and you do everything you can to keep it", Noah said, smiling sadly. Jolly shot his best friend a questioning look but didn't pry.

A faint vibrating sound had Jolly fishing from inside the pocket of his sweat pants, pulling his cell phone free.

Hey, handsome 😘. I'm in town for a few days. Wanna' meet up for a drink at Roman's? 🥃

Her text stayed on his homescreen, unanswered as he stared at her cryptic message. They always did this. She would come into town, they'd hook up, she would leave, taking bits and pieces of his heart with her. He tried distancing himself and touring certainly helped but only marginally. He'd get lost in the absence of her presence and would end up begging her to fly out or partake in a filthy FaceTime session. It just seemed like no matter how far he ran, he kept coming back.

Sighing, his fingers typed back a single word reply:

When?

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Reader's POV

I ran my finger tips lightly around the rim of my glass, the amber liquid that filled the inside now almost empty. I wasn't a huge drinker but tonight I needed some liquid courage as I crossed my legs underneath the dark navy sundress I wore. I chose flats and a jean jacket but skipped out on the panties. There wouldn't be a need for them anyway.

I heard the door to Roman's jingle and my eyes immediately found Jolly's. He smiled and I swear to God, I died on the fucking spot, as I pressed my thighs together under the table. I drank in the sight of him as he walked over, cutting through a small crowd of patrons by the bar. Long hair pulled half up into a bun, the rest cascading over his shoulders. A pair of black sunglasses hung from the collar of the white t-shirt he wore, hidden behind a shiny leather jacket and his long legs were encased in dark jeans along with black biker boots. Holy fucking shit.

Jolly finally approached the table, sliding his chair around next to mine until they were touching before plopping himself down and pulling me into a hug.

"Hello, karaste", he whispered and I swear my ovaries liquified. After all this time, it never ceased to amaze me at how quickly my body responded to him. Over time our friendship developed into something much more physical and it was dangerous. I knew that. Jolly traveled and toured all the time as his success in Bad Omens continued to flourish. That meant very little physical ineraction and our main means of commumication was dirty text messages and FaceTime sessions when they could be squuezed in. However, there were times we craved each other so much that I'd hop on a plane and fly to where he was, even if it was only for a night.

There was just one major obstacle that I could not seem to overcome...in truth, I didn't want to.

I was in love with him.

"Where did you go, love?", Jolly asked, running his fingers through my hair to move a few strands behind my ear. My heart raced at his touch, the adrenaline and anticipation running through my veins causing my body to tremble. I turned to him, our lips mere inches apart before looking away, squeezing my eyes shut. "Look at me", he added. His domineering tone had me snapping my head back to him, my thighs pressing together again as a wave of slick slowly gathered around my throbbing clit.

Jolly's eyes dropped to my lap, gaze narrowing before meeting my eyes again. He licked his lips and I swallowed nervously. He leaned over slightly, looking at somewhere behind my left shoulder and suddenly grabbed my hand to pull me after him. Our chairs scrapped the hardwood as Jolly tossed a $20 dollar bill on the table, yanking me after him towards the back of the bar and into a corner so dark, you'd never even know a lonely couch was there unless you were looking for it.

Jolly suddenly turned, caging my head between his hands, crashing his lips to mine. My brain instantly melted, electricity sizzling all over my body as my hands came up to fist the material of his t-shirt, the warmth of his body seeping into my own. The smell of his cologne had my already melted brain practically boiling. Jolly's lips slanted over mine, deepening the kiss as his tongue licked inside. I whimpered, not that anyone could hear. Jolly boke the kiss to gently run his lips and teeth down the coloumn of my throat, his finger tips running gently between my thighs under my dress. No doubt he'd find them wet with the slick that was oozing out of my throbbing cunt, my body preparing myself for him.

Jolly's fingers reached my sodden folds, slowly swipping his fingers through them to gently and lightly rub over my swollen clit. My legs were shaking, my entire body trembling so bad, I was afraid I would fall. Jolly moaned into my neck, the vibration dancing over my skin as he continued to softly rub my clit. I was going to come. Hard. The time spent apart, the anticipation of seeing him, my body so overly stimulated was too much for me to hold in. Lifting a leg, I wrapped it around his own just for something to anchor myself to.

"Jolly...", I moaned, my grip on his t-shirt and leg tightening. Jolly's free hand left my waist to clamp over my mouth as my orgasm finally broke free. My eyes rolled back and I screamed into his palm, my voice muffled. Again, not that anyone could have heard me where we were. Too dark and most patrons were farther out from us.

Jolly removed his hand from my mouth, my chest heaving to catch my breath and I almost dropped to my knees at seeing him suck my juices off his fingers. He backed up then, sitting on the couch and undoing the zipper of his jeans to pull his hardened cock from it's confines. My mouth watered at how long and thick he was.

"Come here, karaste, and sit on my cock. I need to feel you", Jolly said, curling his fingers at me in a come-hither motion. My legs were jell-o as I did what he asked, climbing onto his lap, legs straddling either side of his hips. I tried gently sliding down over the head of his cock so my sensitive and still dripping cunt could adjust but Jolly wasn't having it. Placing both hands on my hips, he pulled me down as he thrust upwards, impaling me on his cock. I tipped my head back, mouth open, about to scream, when he covered my cries with his hand again. It was too much. Way too much. The stretch and burn, the fullness and thickness had me coming instantly.

"Oh, fuck, baby....you come already? How fucking desperate", Jolly said, chuckling darkly. I raised mysef up and down over his cock, my release no doubt dampening his boxers and jeans. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, my fingers grabbing locks of his hair to hold myself upright.

I moaned behind his palm as he continued to thrust up into my body. Jolly suddenly removed his hand to grasp my chin and pull my lips to his while my cunt continued to squeeze around him.

"Jolly, please...help me, pleasepleaseplease", I begged. His hands gripped my hips, almost lifting me off his lap as he shuttled his cock in and out of my pussy at a bruising pace. I was done for. I wouldn't survive the orgasm that getting ready to let loose. In. Out. In. Out. Up. Down. Up. Down. Until he suddenly impaled me down on his pulsing cock, releasing spurt after spurt of hot come into my womb. His release triggered my own. My mouth opened on a silent scream as I all but shook in his hold. My brain completely shut off, cunt clamping down on his cock.

"Fuck, I love you", I whispered, trying to catch what little oxygen I had left when I felt Jolly stiffen beneath me. I opened my eyes, looking down at him in shock at the words that I had been holding in for months slipped out.

Jolly's expression was unreadable. Realizing I overstepped and ruined whatever 'this' was, I tried to remove myself from his hold. He shocked me by grabbing my head between his hands to connect my lips to his.

"Jag älskar dig, karaste", Jolly said against my lips. Tears filled my vision and ran down my cheeks in hot rivulets. I didn't know much in Sweedish...but I did know that.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

Thank you for reading! 🥰

@concreteemo @concreteangel92 @lolitasangel @exitwoundsx @collidewiththesavannah @artificialstardust @amourtoken @alloraiona @bloodylullaby @bluestdai @darling-millicent-aubrey @doomhands-jr @iamamatus @kaliforniahigh @kissingrose @lilhobgobbler @lma1986 @like-a-omen @lovexsleepyhead @livingdeceasedgirl @philomenie @sacredthefran @thatchickwiththecamera @thisbicc @tikosblogg @xmads-omensx @yarasdead

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hi Ghost! Mega congrats on 3k!! 🥳can i get a filthy martini with eddie munson? Maybe with some sneaking around fun? Thankyou!!

thank you so much!! ngl, i'm very proud of this one. i definitely got carried away, but i swear the smut is there, somewhere amongst the 3k+ words!!! this is really just one long love letter to eddie munson. hope i did your idea justice! also got heavily inspired by taylor swift's song "cruel summer", but what's new?

come party with me!

summertime and stardust (eddie munson x fem!reader)

warnings: smut, p in v, raw dog heathen prevails (aka unprotected sex). also a lot of references to mythology. my bad. i think i got too much prose all over my smut. oops.

Hawkins was always boring in the summer, and maybe that’s how the two of you ended up in this predicament. It was a sweltering wasteland of quarries that had started drying up long before July even arrived, and twenty four hour diners that were occupied with waitresses that made it very clear that they were sick of seeing yours and Eddie’s faces before even a week of freedom. Half of the usual hangout spots the two of you had considered hidden gems were quickly overrun by the middle-schoolers and freshmen that now had nothing but time on their hands (Eddie had taken the loss of the Arcade badly). So it was no surprise that you two ended up here, at the shore of Lover’s Lake, side by side on a blanket that Eddie had kept in the back of his van. 

“Which one is that one?” you ask, lifting a finger to trace out a constellation winking down at the two of you. 

“Orion,” Eddie immediately answers, hardly having to squint to make out the stars as you were, “Want to hear the story behind that one?”

“Is that even a question?” 

This is how the two of you had spent the last hour. On your backs, gazing at the stars, exchanging stories and theories that did not belong to either of you. Tales of Greek Gods and Goddesses, smartass remarks and make-believe when one of you couldn’t identify the constellation. There’s nothing else but you, Eddie, and the cicadas this far out of town. A buzz of relief and tranquility to bask in. Every so often, you could make out the lake water lapping at the shore not far from where both your feet rest, Eddie’s stretching past the blanket. 

It was nice. Every night you had spent out here had been very nice.

You turn on your side to listen to Eddie ramble about Orion, somehow both eloquent but still unfairly funny in his side comments of his opinion on the tale. He makes it very clear that he finds Orion to be deserving of losing his sight - “Seriously, fuck that dude!” - and you can only watch on, entranced by the boy and his starry eyes. 

“I think the version where Artemis murked his ass is pretty good, but I also like the idea behind Gaia sending a Scorpion to kill him, because then they’re opposing constellations and sh- Are you even listening to me?” Eddie pauses when you bring a hand up to his chest, fingertips dancing over the damp cotton of his t-shirt. 

You can’t hide the small smile tilting your lips as you nod, biting back giggles, “Oh, absolutely.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, arms crooked up to rest behind his head, biceps straining against the worn sleeves of his t-shirt. You resist the urge to just bury yourself into him, curl against his side and press, press, press until the two of you conjoin, never to separate again. 

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he lowly chuckles, eyes looking back up to the sky as your fingers begin to trace patterns higher, now skimming his barely-exposed collarbones. 

This is how it usually goes. He’s watching the sky, you’re watching him. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the change. 

Everyone in town knew that the two of you are friends; it’s not a secret. You’d met in school, partnered for a chemistry lab, and the rest was history. Everyone knew that you were the first person Eddie showed every new Corroded Coffin song to, and everyone knew Eddie was the last person you spoke to at the end of every day. And surely, they had to know to some extent, that you both reserved your summer nights for each other. 

The change is what they didn’t know. 

Steve and Robin would tease you two when you’d come into Family Video, a new thriller or horror movie always in hand at the checkout. Dustin would make gagging noises when Eddie would dramatically bid you farewell before Hellfire Club would commence, making endless jokes about his wife returning from war, how lonesome he would be now as you walked through the door and out of his sights for the next several hours. Even Mike, even Max, even Joyce, had made off-handed comments about your attachment to each other. 

But they were all always joking. They never saw any purchase in their words, their relentless teasing never serious because they couldn’t fathom a world where those jokes were actually correct. 

They could never fathom the nights you and Eddie would end up cuddling each other while studying, pressed together too tightly to leave space for friendly speculation. They could never fathom the way Eddie would drag you into the darkest corners of the arcade, his hands tight on your hips and your breath brushing his cheek as he nuzzled his way against your neck, teeth and lips alike nipping at you in desperation until you caved and gave him a chaste kiss. They could never fathom the way Eddie had been holding you to him by the end of these nights spent by the lake, pressing his body into yours and reveling in every whimper that was only his to hear. 

No, they couldn’t fathom that half of the story. They knew you two were close, but they didn’t know just how intertwined your lifelines had become with the boy lying beside you. And that was fine, you didn’t care for them to know about those sacred moments laden with secrecy. All you really cared about was that the boy before you was all your summer nights and all your starry skies, brimming with clandestine glances and whispers of worship in moments alone. That was enough for you. Here, in your bubble of privacy by the lake sans persistent cicadas and gentle waves, he was yours. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie murmurs, bringing a hand up to yours that continues to explore his body innocently, intertwining your fingers with his before resting them over his heart. 

It was drumming in his chest – you could feel each beat perfectly, breaking through the Iron Maiden logo and against your skin. After a few moments, your own racing heart synced with his, a quiet rhythm coursing through your veins. You hope he could feel it, too. 

“Just thinking about how it’s just us out here,” you whisper back, voice low and careful not to break this moment. All of the paths, all of the dead-end streets you had both endured, just for moments like this, “How it’s always just us.” 

You mean more than the fact that you never invite anyone else out on your endeavors, but Eddie takes it that way anyway, snorting. 

“You wanna start inviting the guys out here?” he jokes through more laughter, making you attempt to break your hand free from his in order to smack at his chest. He doesn’t let you, though, only tightening his fingers’ grip on yours, “Think that Gareth would like the show? Or maybe Jeff?”

“Stop,” you whine, starting to fight him with your whole body now, still trying to get your hand free. You nearly roll on top of him, your giggles now joining his, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

He doesn’t reply as the two of you continue to wrestle. At some point, he takes his free hand and begins to tickle you, making your giggles turn into awful screeches, echoing in the warm, stale air around the two of you. You twist and twist and twist, trying to get away from his merciless grip. You’re no longer holding hands, him now utilizing both to attack your sides before moving toward your armpits.

“Don’t!” you gasp out, realizing what he was about to do. He’s on his side now, you flat on your back as he begins to hover over you, “Edward Munson, don’t you dare!” 

But he does dare. And even as you’re slapping at his shoulders, even when he overexaggerated how much your knee knocking against his thigh hurt, even when the weight of him presses you down into the blanket and threatens to bury you into the soft dirty of the small-town beach, you know it in your heart – there is no where else you’d rather be in this moment. 

The compromising position that results from the ridiculous tickling and wrestling is welcome, Eddie’s body heavy between your legs as his torso drapes over yours. Your face-to-face with him, now looking in those dazzling brown eyes for constellations rather than the sky above. 

His grin from the entire interaction has begun to ache, but it doesn’t falter as he bumps his nose to yours gently, “I’m sorry. I get it, I know what you mean. It’s always been just us,” he pauses before scrunching up his face, rearing up to continue to tease you before he playfully mocks, “You and me against the world, baby.”

You smack at his chest with fruition this time, making a soft oomph fall from his lips that pass over yours, “I was just trying to be sentimental, you dick.” 

The grin finally falls away, but the corners of his eyes stay crinkled, “I know.” 

When his lips finally meet yours, it’s like a breath of fresh spring air. You’re no longer in Hawkins’ muggy summer weather, instantly transported somewhere far away where the sun is just warm enough for comfort, where the breeze is just soft enough to wrap around your shoulders like a favorite blanket, where every strawberry is the sweetest and nothing will ever hurt. 

The world can be cruel, both in heat waves and hurting souls, but he never is. He’s a sanctuary – he’s your sanctuary. 

His sickly sweet kisses continue, taking your breath away in a willing way, leaving both your lips shades of summer blooms and spring flowers. His tongue is a welcome prodding, almost as if tending to your garden as he tries to get the two of you even closer. It’s not possible, but it doesn’t stop either of you; chests crush together as foreheads clash, and you yearn for a world where you could just curl up beneath each other’s skin, clamber your way into his chest and nestle right beside his pounding heart.

Only Artemis knows that he’s already made residency in yours, decorating your ribs and lungs with his flowers of adoration. 

Between desperate breaths and needy hands, hips beginning to roll and curse the clothing you two have yet to get rid of, you silently wonder where the two of you will end up in this lifetime. You hope it’s amongst the stars. You hope your constellation can find his across the night sky. 

 “Baby,” he begs. You don’t know what he’s begging for – for closeness, for your legs to fall further open and welcome him home, for you to swallow him whole with all the love pounding just beneath the surface of you – so you can only kiss him back with more urgency. 

The urgency follows through both of your movements. Urgency is what removes his shirt, your hands shaking as his chest is exposed to you in the moonlight. Urgency is what unbuttons your shorts, prickles of thorns when his fingertips make contact with your nude hip. Urgency is the slip of his hand into your panties, fingers curling and swirling in every right pattern to have you preening against him. 

“Off,” you plead with him once he has you down to just your underwear and him just his boxers. Your palms rack down desperately over the waistband before trailing down to his bulge, fevered movements earning more purpose as you press down on him and elicit a moan. 

He recovers his composure, only to shake his head down at you, curls ticking your cheeks, “Ever heard of a thing called patience, sweetheart?” 

“Fuck patience,” you immediately argue, pulling yourself back from his lips fully, eyes meeting and lips slick with each other’s spit, “We have the entire summer to be patient, Eddie. Just… Just fuck me. Please.” 

You awakened something in him with those words, you saw away whatever restraint he was holding onto so tightly. These nights always ended the same way, but they never felt the same. 

Familiarity waits in the shadows as each graze of his skin against yours ignites something new in you. New flowers, new petals, new budding growths that scream that this can’t last for just the summer. Whatever this is, as he removes your panties and his boxers, is not just a coming and going on the seasons. It’s not just a constellation only to be seen in the quiet of the night by two lovesick fools sneaking off to observe it. The heat of the summer that frizzes both your hair and his repeats it, the cooler breeze that rolls off the lake behind you guys encourages it. It may have taken the summer to tend to it, but this is only the beginning of it. Not the end – never the end.

And he fucks you like he knows it, too. He can hear the whispers of it all, telling him to pull you closer, telling him to take his time as he pushes into you and feels your walls stretch around him. It isn’t quite patience, it isn’t quite cruelty. It’s just you, and it’s just him. 

“Fuck,” he moans out once he’s fully sheathed inside you, cock pulsing as your wetness tightens on him. Really, it’s a shame that no deity will ever experience the devotion you feel pouring off of him as his mouth falls open for you, as his head rolls back and his eyes flutter close. He’s devoted to you – he’s yours just as you’re his, “Always so wet for me, baby. Always so good.” 

He finds a familiar rhythm to have you both gasping and groaning, and it still feels brand new. The way you feel him deep in your stomach, the way your thighs quiver and his abdomen tightens. It is all always new and it is all always euphoric. 

If you lift your eyes to find the stars above you almost winking at you, you can feel that he’s not fucking you as you’d requested; he’s making love to you. He is confessing his past sins and he is professing that he’d spend the rest of his days here, inside you, against you, with you. 

The roll of his hips don’t stay slow for long, though. You both know the love is there, and you both know what the two of you need. Eventually, soft confessions and loud professions become slapping of skin on skin, teeth knocking as you try to keep your lips on his. You swallow every moan and he grabs every mewl. You can feel his hands on your waist, your hips, your thighs. He is everywhere all at once, and it still isn’t enough. 

It’s not enough until his movements stutter, until his voice has grown hoarse from calling out your name for only the two of you to hear. Your nails rake down his back at some point, and you know that come tomorrow night, beside the lake, you’ll be tracing fading red lines that spell out a clear message: he belongs to me because he chose me. 

Your walls flutter around him and he knows without you saying a single word other than ramblings of his name that you’re close.

“Cum for me,” he’s begging again, lifting above you and looking down with wide, wet eyes, “Fuck- I- Please cum for me, baby. Need you to cum. Please.” 

You whine out in response, head tilting back into the grass around the edges of the blanket, consumed by him. Your ears ring as your vision blacks, the last image you see being his face contorted in pleasure, and you can’t decipher whether it’s the lake again that you hear or simply your own waves meeting his shore. 

The echoes of his voice surround you. 

“Just like that, sweetheart.”

“Doing so good for me.”

“Always such a good girl.” 

When his own high has its hold on him, his head is falling to your shoulder, his nose buried into your sweet spot behind your ear as you listen to every grunt and moan. He holds you painfully close, like he’s scared that maybe this is the end. You ponder bruises in the shapes of roses forming on your hips as he buries deep in you and he paints your walls with warmth, with devotion, with something unspoken only between the two of you. 

He collapses on top of you in the afterglow. Savors the moment, lets his lips pucker against your salty skin slick with sweat no longer just from summer. His own hair is matted at the knape of his neck, his cheeks, his forehead. 

You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your chest. It’s overflowing, mingling with the still crying cicadas. He lifts his head and glances up at you, smiling shyly. 

“What?” 

You continue to laugh, unable to answer him, as he pulls out and cleans you up with his t-shirt. If you weren’t so delirious with unbridled delight, you’d scorn him. 

He doesn’t bother with redressing as he rolls to his original side of the blanket, laying on his back and wrapping his arms around you to pull you into him, “What’s so damn funny, my beautiful girl?” 

You think Artemis, maybe even Orion, would smile down at the sight of the two of you. Perhaps Gaia is sending her well wishes to the love-stricken look you two exchange in the form of a breeze that doesn’t bring more heat, only relief, only sanctuary. 

“We are not inviting Gareth or Jeff out here, ever,” you finally explain breathlessly, “This place is for just us, Munson.” 

He joins you in your lingering giggles, his chest shaking with them more than he vocalizes them as your cheek finds his heart and presses into his cheek. 

Whatever this is, label or not, is good. And it is only the beginning, never the end. Whether the others will ever know or not, the two of you always will, and that’s all that matters for the time being. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, holding you just a little bit tighter, “Always just us, you heathen.” 

He brings a finger to your chin, tilting your face up. When he kisses you, it tastes like summertime and stardust, just as it should.

[meibinnie]

txt and their kinks

pairing: ot5 x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex (don't do this), dirty talk, spit play, somnophilia, sexy consent, spanking, and choking. mdni, if i catch you, you're gone.

note: i think terry's is my favorite one i wrote. erm kinda proof read, i got tired.

soobin

definitely has a breeding kink, no doubt about it. basically anything that has to do with you being pregnant, he has the hots for. he already has a thing for boobs (source: dude trust me) so when you’re lactating he’d wanna suck on them. 

the first time you proposed to have sex without a condom he almost jumped out his skin. poor guy damn near went stupid from how many times he spilled into you that night. he held onto you has he thrusted at a fast pace, grunting in your ear, “ ‘mm gonna make you a sexy mommy y/n” “c'mon you can take another load” and “i’m gonna breed you over and over again, make you mine forever”. 

he liked watching his cum leak out of you and ruin the sheets. sometimes he’d stuff it back into you just to see you squirm under his touch. he’d even take pictures (with your consent ofc) to keep and get off to, when you’re not around. 

yeonjun

yeonjun has a filthy mouth point blank period. his pretty lips are so damn deceiving. he whispers, grunts and moans explicit yet endearing words  in your ears. “yeah just like that you needy bitch” “that’s my perfect slut” “too cock drunk to answer me huh?” 

tonight was different though, he had you on your back as he thrusted into you. not too fast but not quite love making. he leans down to kiss you a couple of times like always. he loves your lips just as much as you love his. he shocks you when he demands you “open your mouth for me princess” and of course you obey, always so good for him. 

he leans down, spitting a glob of his saliva into your mouth. you close and swallow because how could you not take every bit of him? he cums at the sight of you swallowing him like that, can’t help but to kiss you and exchange more saliva than he already has. 

beomgyu

it took a lot  for him to admit it to  you even though  you were very open minded. he wanted to wait for you to bring it up first  but you never did because “hmm, that’s news to me. i’ve never heard of that but, if it makes you happy then sure” you said with a sweet smile.

beomgyu let weeks go by because he just couldn’t work up the courage to do it. he was nervous but then he came home late from dance  practice and there you were. sprawled out on his bed with only underwear and his t-shirt on. you looked so pretty and he just couldn’t help himself.

so he slipped his clothes off and pressed up against your back. he kissed and sucked on your neck and you were sound asleep. he peppered so many kisses, leaving little purple bruises for you to find the next morning.  now dry humping you from behind, he held in his moans and grunts to not wake you. he strained and held back, “i’ll just cum from this and be done” he tried to convince himself.

but he couldn’t take it anymore, it wasn’t enough,  he needed to be inside you. he pushed your panties to the side, slowly sliding his length inside of you. you let out a small whimper, knitting your brows together causing him to halt. once you settled again, he set a slow and steady pace. 

“mm gyu, keep going” your tired words egged him on. “feels good right?” he said sweat coating the sides of his face. all you could do was whine sleepy, poor baby barely coherent but loving the feeling regardless. his orgasm washed over him, making him see stars.  once you followed suit, he stayed inside you and you both drifted off to sleep.

taehyun

taehyun was a simple guy. sex with him wasn’t boring, it was easy for him to find out what you liked and he knew what he liked or so he thought. he didn’t think he’d have any specific kinks until a wild night with you after returning home from tour. taehyun hadn’t seen you for 6 months and phone sex just wasn’t doing the job anymore.

when he finally got home and you were riding him into complete bliss (because those strong arms holding your hips while you straddle him? whew) fully stuffed, you moaned “taehyun slap me”. he’d never hit a woman before, ever and he didn’t plan on it. but this was different, you were asking. “please baby, right in my face” no you were begging. your eyes watering, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead and your lips plump from kissing and biting. how could he tell you no? 

so he took his left hand  ;)  and slapped you across the face. it wasn’t enough, it was unmoving and you wanted more. you bounced on his cock faster “harder baby” you sighed. were you serious? he didn’t want to hurt you but he saw that look in your eye, like if he didn’t slap the life out of you, you’d burst into tears. so he slapped you harder, making your head turn and your hair whip right along with it. “fuck yes, just like that baby” you moaned loudly, once again picking up your pace. turning to face him again, the side of your face turning red from the impact.

he could come right then and there but why stop? every time you moved down on his length, he spanked your ass and grabbed it roughly, definitely leaving a mark. you loved every bit of it, cumming on his cock and coming down from your high with a red face and a lopsided smile. he was so shocked he liked something so enticing and violent but he got to see you so gorgeous and fucked out so it became routine.

huening kai 

you were hanging out with some of your friends and the boys at your apartment for a game night. playing uno, everyone makes up their own rules and you’d have to stop the game a bunch. “huening you cannot put a 6 and 7 down just because they’re the same color” beomgyu face palmed. kai didn’t care, still putting down the two cards incorrectly. “baby, pick one of them back up or pick up two cards from the deck” you playfully scolded him. “make me” he threatened. 

you pushed past beomgyu knocking kai over and straddling him, tickling his sides. “i don’t care, im not picking up cards” he said in between laughs. your hand went up to his neck wrapping your fingers around it, not tight enough to block his windpipe but he went dead silent and got red hot. 

it felt like the world stopped and he grew a boner at record speed. he sat up quickly, pushing you off of him disturbed and everyone exchanged uncomfortable looks. “i think we should call it a night and pick it up next time” beomgyu broke the silence. 

everyone left just leaving you and kai, you checked up on him in your shared room. “kai, did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to” you started apologizing already. “no y/n you didn’t. i  just-” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “you know you can tell me anything, right?” you put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“you choked me, and i liked it. i liked it a lot. there, you happy?” he said quickly and avoiding eye contact. “baby, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. actually just the thought of it is making me so wet” you whispered in his ear. 

the tips of his ears turned red and he finally made eye contact with you. the rest of the night consisted in multiple rounds of sex and you choking him while he laid down, and you rode him into oblivion.

[spacemancharisma]

vent under cut

so the background is that I work for a family-owned business in an extremely politically red area. I knew the owners were republicans, but didn’t realize until recently that they’re like,, hardcore about it. the wife wears trump merch 24/7 and they both toss the t-slur around in a work environment like it’s nothing. they have two kids though, around my age, and the son is gay, which I learned a month or two into working here. since then, i’ve come out to him & we’ve been friends, we’ve had solidarity, i’ve seen him make at least token attempts to chill his parents out. I’ve never made my personal political leanings obvious at work bc I know better, but it’s fairly obvious from everything about me that I lean pretty hard to the left.

all this to say- the other day as I was leaving work, I walked into the office where the parents & kids were all talking, and arrived while the son, my friend, was in the middle of a story that went “- and he asked me why he should vote for trump, so I was explaining like, ‘do you know what a 30% corporate tax would even do?’-” and I know it’s naïve of me to have expected anything but it still hit me in the fucking chest

and since then i’ve had this feeling of like,, rage and pain the way a little kid feels, all that righteousness and confusion because how can you not care about other people???? I’m just sitting at work feeling like I’m going to start screaming or crying because PEOPLE DIED FOR YOU. YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS DIED IN THE FUCKING STREETS FOR YOU TO HAVE THE RIGHT TO RENT A LITTLE HOUSE WITH YOUR BOOTBOY BOYFRIEND AND MAKE OUT WHILE YOU VOTE FOR TRANS PEOPLE TO BE FUCKING EXTERMINATED. but what does it matter to fucking you, I guess, since you’re white and cis and male and masc and able-bodied. who gives a fuck about everyone you’re stomping on. who gives a fuck about the queers and the faggots and the trannys getting wished out of existence if it means that you, a Good Respectable Homosexual, don’t have to pay some goddamn taxes. I want to fucking throw up. this is a vent post bc I can’t be articulate about it. it just hurts. it fucking hurts that I am haunted every day by the spectre of an entire generation that republicans murdered in cold blood, and people like him haven’t ever even considered the what it would’ve been like if he’d been born a decade or two earlier. we have not recovered from the aids crisis. we will never recover from the aids crisis. the community we once had was fucking demolished, deliberately, and if you can go about your life & never think about how many people we lost & what we lost with them, you have fucking lost the plot.

how is it possible to so genuinely only think about capital, about fucking money. how is it fucking possible to care so little about other people????? people you claim to have community with???? yourself even?????? we live in fucking georgia dude, we don’t have room to backslide. panthers eating faces or whatever. maybe they’ll come for me first but I promise they are coming for you next.

they don’t fucking respect you. you’re not “one of the good ones”. they’ll never forgive you. they’ll never love you. and when they start eating faces, you’re not as far down that list as you want to be. I just don’t understand how disconnected you have to be to not see that, to not care, to think you’re above it. you are as filthy as any of us to them, and when you need someone to stand with you, it’s not going to be them. it’s going to be us, standing with you even if you never stood with us.

anyway.

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 25: Henry & the Bad Girl, Part 2

~Big Putts Golf Course~

The Wall Dogs had returned to Swellview's best golf course to finish what they had tried to start the previous night. With no Captain Man or Kid Danger in sight, they rapidly got to work in tagging and defacing the windmill.

"Hey. Hey. Hey, check this out." One of them caught the attention of the others as they noticed Veronika returning to the group, only she wasn't alone. She had Kid Danger by her side.

"Surprise" She smirked at her gang, who scowled as Henry nervously shuffled behind her. 'Just stick to the plan.' He repeated in his head, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.

"Hello, everyone." He waved at the criminals, but they just looked at the two teens in irritated confusion.

"Wait, what?" They all asked, wondering why their teammate would bring the enemy to them.

"so, uh..." Henry looked at Veronika for reassurance.

"Oh, that's T-Paint, Two Canz, Beonspray..." She started to name all of her friends, which stressed them out big time.

"Veronika!" A boy scolded her.

"What?" The girl replied in an annoyed tone. She didn't like it when she was interrupted.

"He's Captain Man's budge." The dude said, and the Wall Dogs angrily pointed at the teen superhero.

"Hey! I'm a lot more than Captain Man's budge! For example, I'm good at tennis, I make excellent tacos." Henry told them, offended that they just saw him as an extension of his boss.

"What if he tells Captain Man where we are?" The boy from before interrogated, glancing at Kid Danger with distrust.

"He won't. I just watched him fight Captain Man and push him down a mountain. I'd be in jail right now if it wasn't for him." Veronika explained, trying to convince her friends that Henry no longer had any allegiance to Ray.

"So, what are you saying now? You're not Captain Man's budge anymore?" The guy asked, still not accepting that the sidekick would betray Swellview's favourite crime fighter.

"Nope. I think it's awesome how you guys go around, painting stuff like that all over the city." The kid smiled, hoping that he sounded sincere enough that Veronika and her Wall Dog chums would believe him.

"Wait! You seriously gonna let Wonder Boy roll with us?" A girl in a glittery mask piped up.

"I don't know." The boy answered, looking between Henry and Veronika with misapprehension.

"He's my friend. You don't tell me what to do." Veronika stood up to the boy, trying to be assertive and confident.

"No. But Van Del does. Call him." He replied and a Wall Dog took out his cell so they could speak to their leader. This was the start of Henry's plan to worm his way into the heart of the Wall Dog's lair. However, the wall dog who made the phone call wasn't particularly bright, and he rang the boy who gave the order. Ah, jeez, this was going to be harder than he thought.

~The Man-Cave~

Charlotte made her way down from Junk-N-Stuff, having received a notification up in the store that Ray had returned. However, what she was greeted with as she stepped out of the elevator, told her that mission hadn't gone smoothly.

Firstly, Henry was nowhere in sight, which made nerves settle in her stomach as she got the impression that something was wrong. (y/n) was crying, Ray was filthy and the way the woman had her head in her hands with Ray cradling her shaking frame made her pale as she tentatively walked over to them.

"How'd it go?" She asked the adults timidly, causing Ray to sigh and (y/n) to look at her with bloodshot eyes. Did she dare tell the girl that her best friend had betrayed them for a stupid gang of miscreants?

"Not great." She whispered hoarsely, wiping her eyes quickly and drying her face in an attempt to pull herself together so Charlotte didn't have to see her cry. The girl didn't need to see her problems.

"Well, what happened? And why are you all dirty?" Charlotte asked, as (y/n) went over to the computer so she could make herself useful. Work was always the best distraction for when her heart was aching.

"'Cause I just went tumbling down a giant mountain, and a mountain is basically one big pile of dirt in the shape of a mountain." Ray answered, trying to keep his voice low so his best friend wouldn't get more upset. He'd already put her through even, he didn't want to make things worse. The large man put a warm hand on (y/n)'s shoulder as she began to track Henry's location. When she got her hands on the good-for-nothing, lying little shit, she'd...probably burst into tears at how hurt she was.

"We've gotta locate Henry." Ray whispered in her ear, his dulcet tone relaxing her into the chair so she could be nearer to his body.

"I'm on it. Schwoz!" The woman yelled, but her voice was still a little strained from her emotion.

"SCHWOZ!!!!" Charlotte bellowed, helping out her friend with her powerful voice. 

"Thanks for that." She said to both the girl and Ray, who had covered her ears to stop her from jumping at the deafening noise. 

"What? What?" A half-naked Schwoz shouted as he came out from the back of the Man Cave, draped only with a pink towel around his waist and shoulders. He was dripping wet and covered in suds, so it took no genius to work out where he had been.

"I was in the shower." The man whined, goosebumps rising on his body as the cold air of the main room stung his wet skin.

"Come help us locate Henry," Ray instructed him, making the small man waddle over, his bare feet slapping on the marble floors.

"Why, what happened?" Schwoz asked, wondering why they'd need to find the boy when they could just call him.

"Ray put the secret tracking device on him, but it's not finding the location." (y/n) told him, standing up so her friend could sit down.

"It's okay, I fix," Schwoz reassured her, ensuring that he didn't knock her confidence. She was clever, brilliant in fact, but she was often so unsure of herself that she questioned her intelligence and capability. The woman stood next to Ray, who was perfectly happy to let Schwoz take over, after all, it meant that he could put his arm around her and pull her into his side.

"Oh, sweet cheese." The girls and Ray gagged as they saw Schwoz's back hair, causing the three of them to step back.

"So, where is he?" The man asked the genius as the signal began to triangulate on Henry's location. 

"It takes time to triangulate his location." Schwoz snapped, (y/n) resting her head on Ray's pec. A strange noise came from the shower, which confused everyone because it sounded just like a pig. WHat had Schwoz been doing in there?

A soapy pig ran out from the shower, making Ray, Charlotte and (y/n) look at it in shock.

"I'll be there in a minute!" Schwoz told the pig, which seemed to satisfy the pig into returning to the back of the Man Cave.

"You were in the shower with your pig?" Charlotte asked him incredulously.

"She has to get clean too." The little man told her, not seeing how (y/n) stared at him with an annoyed expression. A goddamn pig in the showers that she had to clean? Oh, hell no.

"Yeah, she gets clean outside where I don't have to mop down any pig gunge." She hissed, now knowing why Schwoz's shower always smelt funny.

"She has no gunge." He whined, thinking that his pig was perfect and pristine.

"Get that pig out of that shower or we'll be having sausages for dinner tomorrow." (y/n)smiled at him sweetly, but her words scared the living daylights out of Schwoz, resulting in him slipping and sliding across the floor so he could get his pig out of her way. 

~Van Del's layer~

The crazed criminal, Van Del, was busying shooting paintballs at several pinups of Captain Man, his sworn enemy. 

"Van Del?" A nervous minion asked him, not wanting to upset his boss by rudely interrupting him.

"I'm busy painting." The 'artist' groaned, firing at a photo and landing a scarlet splatter right on Captain Man's nose.

"But Spray-Z wants to talk to you." The boy told him, making Van Del sigh and point his paint gun at him.

"Give me the phone, now go stir the paint before I throw you into it." He groaned, making the minion dash off to a large vat of bubbling red paint.

"Talk." Van Del said into the phone, resuming his assault on another pic of Ray.

"Kid Danger's here." One of the Wall Dogs at the golf course reported, piquing his boss's interest.

"Put him on the phone." Van Del ordered, adamant that he should get to talk to the superhero.

"Van Del?" Henry asked, pleasing the criminal exponentially. It wasn't often he got to converse with his enemy's sidekick.

"Kid Danger. I hear your boss wants me in prison." He seethed into his cell, firing at Captain Man's portrait again.

"Well...maybe Captain Man's not my boss anymore." Henry told him, intriguing the Wall Dogs around him and their leader on the other end of the line.

"Interesting. Put Spray-Z on the phone." He ordered the boy, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"It's me," Spray-Z answered after a small kerfuffle over Henry not knowing which Wall Dog was which.

"Did you search Kid Danger?" Van Del interrogated his minion.

"Search him for what?" Spray-Z replied, not being the smartest Wall Dog in the gang.

"Oh, I don't know, meatballs and bikini tops?" His boss said sarcastically, but the dumb kid couldn't read between the lines to see that he was joking. He gave the order, endlessly irritating Van Del.

"Spray Z. Spray-Z!" He yelled down the phone.

"What's up?" The boy asked, wondering what the man wanted now.

"Search him for weapons, recording devices, things like that." The criminal spelt it out plainly so the goon would get the picture.

"Ah, right, right." Spray-Z hit the side of his head, trying to get his head in the game.

"And, use the wand." Van Del added, so the gang did as they were told. Seizing Henry, Veronika waved a hand-held metal detector over his costume, looking for anything that could be used against them. Coming to his utility belt, the wand turned from green to red, indicating that Henry had something...suspicious on him.

"What you got in there?" Two Canz asked him, to which Henry looked at her cooly.

"Nothing but rock hard abs." He sassed her, but the girl wasn't in the mood for games.

"Check his belt buckle." She ordered the guy holding him, so he fiddled around with the metal buckle until he found a blinking microchip thing.

"I swear I didn't know that was in there." He stuttered, hoping that they'd buy it. Snatching the tiny device from the dude's fingers, Two-Canz studied it closely.

"It's a tracking device!" She hissed.

"Captain Man must've put it there! That jerk!" He lied, desperately praying that the plan hadn't just majorly backfired.

~Back in the Man Cave~

Schwoz had scurried back to his seat after moving the pig from the shower and was now trying to secure a fix on Henry. 

"Why can't you find Henry?" Charlotte questioned him, as Ray paced back and forth nervously. Had he been found out? Had their plan failed? Had the Wall Dogs done something to him?

"I told you it takes time!" Schwoz reiterated his point from earlier, frustrating Ray.

"Time is the one thing we don't have." The large man growled, leaning over (y/n) as she crouched down to help Schwoz.

"Well, time and machines that poop gold, we also don't have gold." (y/n) joked to slice through the tension that was rapidly building.

~Big Putts Golf Course~

"All right, if you really didn't know about this tracking device, then bust it up." A Wall Dog instructed Henry, wanting to see the kid break his final tie to Captain Man. Veronika passed him a hammer as Henry internally cursed what he was about to do.

"Okay. But I don't need this." He told the guy, chucking the hammer into Spray-Z's stomach.

"Check this out." He said to the group, throwing the tracking device upwards and shooting it midair with his laser remote. A shower of sparks rained down on the Wall Dogs' heads and Henry prayed that his friends back in the Man Cave were able to pinpoint his location before the signal went dead. 

~The Man Cave~

Everyone looked at the screen in horror as it flashed a 'no signal' message. 

"What happened?" Ray exclaimed, fear swelling in his chest.

"We lost Henry's signal." (y/n) breathed, she and Schwoz trying to find it again, but it was pointless. You can't find what doesn't exist. Ray and Charlotte put their hands on their heads in defeat; what were they gonna do now?

~Back at the Golf Course~

"Now, give us your little laser toy." Spray-Z told Henry, who was reluctant to give up his last line of defence. 

"But this kind of belongs to Captain Man, and I don't think I---" He tried to excuse, but Veronika didn't like his hesitation.

"Who's side are you on? The Wall Dogs' or Captain Man's?" She asked him, getting Henry to choose between maintaining his lie or keeping himself safe as Ray told him to.

"Yours." He cemented, passing the laser remote into the boy's hand, proving his loyalty.

"Cool." It wasn't a good idea to give Spray-Z a weapon, but oh, well.

"Okay, you guys finish working on the windmill. I'm going to work on Kid Danger," Veronika smirked at him, shaking a tin of black spray paint.

"What are you gonna do?" Henry asked her, internally panicking at what (y/n) would say when she saw the mess on his uniform. She'd have to spend hours on the costume to get the paint off and he guessed that he was already in her bad books since she didn't know about his and Ray's plan to infiltrate the Wall Dogs' lair.

"You'll see." She smiled, pushing him into the corner of the course so she could start painting. 

"Hey, how's this thing work?" Spray-Z asked, pointing Henry's laser remote directly into his eye.

"Be careful with that or else you might---"Henry's warning came a little too late as the dumb kid shot himself in the eye, causing him to clutch it in pain. Accidents always happen to stupid people.

~15 minutes later~

The Wall Dogs were still working on the windmill, but Veronika had finished painting over the vibrant red and blue hues of Henry's costume.

"Okay, everybody! Check out the new Kid Danger!" She called out to her friends, showing off how she'd turned his tunic black and had created a swirling pattern on his pants and boots.

"Aw, yeah. That is dope." The gang admired her art, liking how the teen superhero looked like one of them now.

"How does it feel?" Veronika smirked.

"Feels baaaad." Henry twisted his catchphrase to fit his new persona, even though the paint made him feel very sticky.

"Van Del's going to love it." The girl said, the others agreeing with her. Perfect, everything was going according to the plan.

"This is so weird, I feel like a real Wall Dog now." Henry smiled, but the gang was quick to dampen his spirits.

"Not yet, man. We're gonna take you to the grill and we'll let Van Del decide if you can be a Wall Dog." Henry was told.

"What grill?" He asked, curious as to where Van Del's hideout was.

"That's a secret..." A boy tried to say, but Spray-Z couldn't help himself.

"It's the Old Maple Grill." He revealed dumbly, causing his teammates to groan.

"Shut up, man! What is wrong with you?!" They scolded him, not wanting Kid Danger to know the location before they could fully trust him.

"I got shot in the eye with a laser!" Spray-Z whined as the group began to argue amongst themselves.

"The Old Maple Grill's been abandoned for years," Henry mentioned to Veronika.

"Just wait." She smirked, but Henry's stomach dropped as two Wall Dog's dragged Jasper over to the group. What had the kid gotten himself into?

"You guys are going to be in big trouble." He hissed at them, trying to break free from their grip.

"Oh no," Henry mumbled.

"Yo! Who's the herbert?" A guy asked.

"We caught him across the street, spying on us." The girl in the glitter mask replied, Jasper, being not afraid to confirm her story.

"That's right. And I found you and as soon as I get out of here, I'm calling the cops." He told them, holding up his phone like an idiot. Someone should've told him that telling the bad guys about your escape plan is the worst thing you can do in a hostage situation. Snatching his cell from his hand, a Wall Dog threw it far away and into the pond on the golf course.

"But, but, but, but...well, now, how am I supposed to call the cops?" He asked them rhetorically.

"I think this Herbert need to be a little more...colourful." The guy said, and the gang took up their spray cans so they could tag him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up. Why don't we let our new friend spray the Herbert?" Veronika suggested, turning to Henry who gulped at the notion. The gang enthusiastically agreed, but Henry wasn't so sure. He wouldn't do this to a stranger, let alone his best friend.

"Give me some cans." He told them in a stern voice, plucking up the courage to do as they had asked so he could stay in the group.

"Kid Danger?" Jasper gasped as he noticed the superhero stood across from him.

"What's up?" The teen asked cooly, shaking his can.

"What happened to your outfit?" He spluttered, not believing that one of his heroes would turn evil.

"None of your biz, Herbert," Henry told him cruelly, guilt rising in his chest as the Wall Dogs enjoyed his mean performance.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to fight for what's good and right." Jasper stressed, but the boy superhero had to keep up his pretence that he was bad now.

"Things change. Now I spray paint Herberts with big feet." He bullied his friend, hating how disheartened Jasper looked.

"No, no, no. Don't paint me." The captured boy screamed, but it was futile; the kid sprayed orange and blue paint all over his body, torturing him with the cold spray. They let him go eventually, but only after he left looking like there had been an explosion in a paint factory.

~Back in the Man Cave~

"Guys, guys, guys! I found something!!!" Charlotte screamed as she sprinted out of the elevator. She had just legged it from Henry's house, having found Jasper all painted up from his encounter with the Wall Dogs. They had sprayed him everywhere, and there had been an interesting addition to the paint on his back.

"If it's not Henry's head on a spike then I'm not interested." (y/n) said lamely, closing her eyes as she rested against Ray on the couch. He had cleaned himself in the hour Charlotte had been gone and had decided to let Schwoz poke around on the computer whilst he took some time-out with his favourite girl.

"No! I found a message on Jasper's back that Henry painted!" The girl exclaimed, dashing over to the computer so she could put her photo on the monitor. The adults sat up and joined her and Schwoz by the supercomputer, curious as to what Jasper had anything to do with this.

"The bucket kid?" Ray asked, confused by her quick sentence.

"Jasper got spray painted by Kid Danger at Big Putts Golf Course and this is what he wrote on his back." She explained, showing them the image of the abbreviation OMG that had been distinctly drawn there, the black paint contrasting the rest of the bright colours.

"You think it's a message?" Ray asked her, thinking about what Henry could mean. He knew his sidekick was trying to give him a sign about where to go since the signal had failed, but he couldn't grasp its coded meaning.

"It must be a place in Swellview." Schwoz theorised, thinking about every building in the city where crime boss would want to build his secret base.

"But where?" Ray stroked his chin, Charlotte rolling her eyes at how slow they were.

"The Old Maple Grill!" (y/n) gasped, her brain flickering to life as she dusted away the cobwebs in her mind. She felt like she had been pulled away from her depressed mood like a snapping elastic band as her neurons synchronised all at once.

"Yes! The abandoned grill on the east side of Swellview!" Charlotte smiled at her eureka moment, seeing the way she lit up as the dots connected in her mind.

"How did you think of that?" Ray asked in bafflement, surprised but not upset by the fact that she beat him to the chase.

"We used to go there all the time for their steaks. Don't you remember?" She reminded him, recalling how the times she shared with him in the restaurant were some of the first instances where she felt her heart flutter when he laughed at her jokes. It was so long ago, back when she'd only been working for him for a short while, she wasn't disheartened to learn that he had let the memory slip away. It must have been precious only to her.

"Oh, yeah." He smiled, zoning out as his three friends began to get ready for his assault on the Wall Dogs. They busied themselves at the computer as he remembered what it felt like to be sat in that grill. She looked so lovely on those nights, even when she had been tired and run-down from the late nights and hectic days. He recalled how he had cursed to himself when he realised that he'd do anything to make her smile or to keep her there with him. She had become important to him and that terrified the man who had always kept people at an arm's length. After all the women he had gone through, his best friend was the one he had given his heart to and he had no hope of taking it back.

"Ray, are you ready?" Schwoz asked, breaking him out of his daydream.

"What? No!" He quickly stammered, thinking that he had been asked if he was ready to confess to (y/n) that he was head over heels in love with her.

"But we have everything ready." The young woman in question told him with a frown on her face. Taking a glance at the computer monitor, Ray realised that they were talking about going after Van Del.

"Oh right, yeah, I'm ready." He mentally slapped himself into focus, using his Captain Man voice to appear like he hadn't just had a mini-meltdown at the thought of admitting his feelings.

"There's been a lotta activity around the Old Maple Grill recently, so we're pretty sure that's where the Wall Dogs are," Charlotte told him and Ray walked over to the tubes.

"Right, I'm gonna go over there and teach that scum a lesson." He growled, whacking his belt buckle to the tube would come down. (y/n) wasn't sure if he was talking about Van Del or Henry, but in her mind, they were both as bad as each other, so she didn't care.

"Good luck!"

"Kick some ass!" The three friends waved him goodbye as he shot up the tube, intent on bringing the Wall Dogs to justice and Henry home.

~Van Del's lair~

"Kid Danger? He's here?" Van Del asked his minions as he descended some metal stairs in his hideout. The group from the golf course had just returned to their base and were eager to show their leader their newest gang member.

"Yeah. He's outside with Veronika." One of the lead minions answered.

"Bring him. Get him." Van Del smirked, excited to finally relish the fact that Captain Man's beloved sidekick had jumped ship and joined him.

The door to the lair opened and the supervillain rubbed his hands together as Henry nervously stepped inside, Veronika following close behind him.

"How's your eye?" He asked Spray-Z, who was holding the door open for them.

"Gone!" The boy cried and Henry noticed that he was now wearing an eyepatch over the eye that had been burnt. Ouch.

"Van Del?" Henry looked at his enemy with 'respectful' eyes, trying to appear humble in the colourful den of the Wall Dogs.

"Is it true, you've turned against Captain Man and that you want to join the Wall Dogs revolution?" The boss asked him, making Henry turn back to Veronika and grin cockily.

"Yep. I do." He confirmed.

"Roll up your sleeve." Van Del ordered, confusing the kid with his unusual direction.

"Uh...why?" He asked.

"Show him the Wall Dog mark on your arms." Van Del told his followers and they all pulled back their sleeves to reveal that they all had the Wall Dog tag branded on their arms.

"Oh," Henry said quietly, feeling anxious as Van Del heated up the branding iron. This guy was insane.

"First, we test the melon." He said mysteriously, and the minions passed over a melon with a rainbow wig and glasses. This was getting weirder by the minute. Pressing the glowing metal into the fruit's skin, the heat caused it to shrivel and hiss as the Wall Dog's dark mark was left on the green surface.

"So, to join the Wall Dogs now I have to do that to a melon?" Henry asked, trying to buy himself some time so Ray could get to him. Well, only if his message on Jasper had made it back to him.

"Hold up your arm." Van Del laughed, as two goons grabbed Henry and forced his sleeve up his arm.

"Whoa, whoa, can't I just swear on the Bible or something?" The boy asked, really not liking the idea of having a painful burn on his arm for the rest of his life.

"Or if--" Henry's panicking was interrupted as a boot came flying through the door, distracting the gang from their branding.

"Ow! Dang it!" The person yelled as their foot got stuck, but Henry sighed in relief as he knew his salvation had come. An arm came through the door too, as the man tried to force his way in. Then his other leg ripped through the wood and then his other arm, in an attempt to free his stuck limbs from the door, but it only made his situation worse.

Spray-Z carefully opened the door, which probably wasn't the best idea, but he was stupid so he didn't realise it. Opening the door, the guy was revealed to be none other than Captain Man, who was struggling in the position he had put himself in.

"It's Captain Man!" A girl yelled as the Wall Dogs descended into anger and trepidation. Using the brute strength he retained in all his muscle, Ray pulled himself free from the door and scowled at the criminals.

"Well, Van Del, spray time's over." He quipped, having spent the journey time from the Man Cave to the Old Maple Grill thinking about the perfect line for his entrance.

"Prove your loyalty to the Wall Dogs." Van Del ordered Kid Danger as his minions looked between the superhero and their leader nervously. Sighing, Henry sauntered up to Ray by a few steps.

"I've only got one thing to say to you." He growled at Ray.

"Then say it." The man said back in an equally serious tone.

"...I am so glad you're here!" Henry broke out into a gleeful smile and jumped into Ray's arms so he could give his friend a huge hug. He was so worried back there that he'd have to get branded. The Wall Dogs, especially Veronika, watched in horror as the superheroes revelled in their reunion.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Veronika yelled at Henry, not realising that she had been set up.

"Fighting crime, baby." He smirked at her cooly as Ray couldn't contain his elated grin.

"I love this kid." Captain Man laughed at his sidekick's words and gave him a quick side hug. As if he'd turn evil for a girl.

"You lied to me." Veronika cried, heartbroken that she'd been so foolish and trusted the boy.

"Yep." The boy answered truthfully.

"You used me!" She added.

"That is also true," Henry stated, feeling little to no remorse at what he had done since it had helped him and Captain Man find the Wall Dogs 

"She is really pretty." Ray pointed out, knowing what it was like to be swept away by a girl's beauty since it happened to him every day when (y/n) came down from her room for breakfast.

"Right?" Henry agreed, smiling as he appreciated the girl that fell for him.

"But how could you..." She trailed off, not being able to say out loud that he had betrayed her.

"Look, I had to make you think that I turned against Captain Man and that I was falling in love with you so you'd bring me here to Van Del," Henry explained, causing the villain to grab one of his minions in anger.

"You idiot! You led Captain Man right to us!" He snapped, holding the poor kid by the scruff of his neck.

"It wasn't my fault. When we found the tracking device on the kid, we blew it up." He told his boss.

"Yeah. And that's when I knew I had to get a message to Captain Man, so I spray painted O-M-G on that kid you guys caught at Big Putts." Ray smirked at the boy's genius, glad that he picked a kid that was so smart to be his sidekick.

"You mean the kid with the big feet?" Spray-Z asked.

"Uh-huh. But his feet arent big, they're huge." Henry said, amusing himself at his slight jibe at Jasper.

"Wait, I still don't understand all this." A kid said, frowning at how all the facts were jumbled in his head.

"What? You mean that Kid Danger and I set up a whole plan to find your secret hideout and capture Van Del?" Ray asked, and the crowd nodded. They didn't have a clue what was going on. The superhero duo sighed; looks like they'd have to spell it out for them.

"All right."

"We'll explain it in more detail." They said, Ray, sitting down so they could talk about the entire plan.

~45 minutes later~

Well, that was tedious. It had taken them three-quarters of an hour just to get up to the whole OMG thing, and Ray and Henry had almost passed out from boredom.

"And so, when my helper saw the O-M-G that Kid Danger sprayed on that boy's back, she knew that was a clue," Ray explained to the now seated Wall Dogs, who still didn't get it.

"Old Maple Grill, O-M-G," Henry told them, and they all verbally confirmed their understanding.

"Wait. When did you even come up with this whole plan?" A girl asked, knowing that Kid Danger had been with them for the whole day and night.

"Well, you see, at first I lied to Captain Man," Henry said as Van Del started to get antsy from having waited so long.

"By not telling me that Veronika asked him to meet her under the Swellview sign," Ray added, the teen girl in front of him glaring at Henry.

"But then I felt guilty so I told him." The kid confessed, his golden morality shining through his smile.

"Who's a good boy?" Ray asked him in a silly voice and jokingly hit him in the stomach.

"Me." The kid giggled, happy that his boss was proud of him.

"So that's when we decided to really--" The large man was cut off as Van Del's patience finally snapped.

"STOP THIS! This explanation has been going on for 45 minutes! Enough!" The crime boss yelled, making Henry and Ray roll their eyes. What a temper, geez.

"Well, what do you want us to do?" Spray-Z asked, disappointed that he didn't get to hear the end of the story.

"Attack them!" He bellowed and the room collapsed in pandemonium as the Wall Dogs began to punch and kick at Captain Man and Kid Danger. Veronika swiped at Ray who easily blocked her punches as Henry battled Spray-Z, who wasn't very bright so he was quickly on the floor. Overpowering the girl, Ray pushed her onto the floor as the next minion lined up to fight him.

"Hey, Captain Man!" A boy caught his attention, holding up a long metal pole in his hands. Seeing that Ray was in danger, (even though he couldn't actually get hurt, but still), Henry grabbed his laser remote and fired it at the metal, the laser melting through it so it became useless.

Smiling that his opponent was now unarmed, Ray charged forwards and kicked him to the floor as Henry struggled against Spray-Z. Using the kid to lift himself up, Henry kicked an oncoming goon and threw his elbow back into the boy's nose. Now, he had no nose and one eye; it wasn't a good day for Spray-Z.

"Get him!" Van Del grunted when Ray opened a cabinet door into one of his minions' faces. Kid Danger dropped kicked another boy as Ray cut through the crowd, taking down anyone who stood in his path. With another guy being thrown through a pile of paint cans, the leader of the Wall Dogs cringed as the superhero duo annihilated his gang.

Seeing her chance to escape, Veronika ran up the metal stairs to the lair's second level but stepped back in shock as Ray launched a shopping cart of art supplies at her. Spinning around to go back the other way, she found herself trapped between the cart and Kid Danger.

"Where are you going?" Henry asked her as she tried to get past him.

"I'm sorry, but we got to keep you here until the cops show up." He told her as Ray swung across the room on a rope, kicking two goons over a sofa as he did. 

"Really? Is that the truth?" Veronika snarled at Henry.

"What do you mean?" He inquired, puzzled at what she had said.

"Everything you've told me up to now has been a lie." She sniffed at him, growing teary at the thought of the boy she believed she could trust betraying her.

"We had to stop you and the other Wall Dogs from breaking the law." He sighed, knowing that it was his duty to stop criminals, no matter what.

"Well, you're a really good actor. 'Cause the way you kissed me, I thought maybe you liked it...and liked me." She gazed at him with a devastated face. Henry sighed and looked up as he blocked out the noise of Ray beating the other Wall Dogs to a pulp.

"What are you doing?" Veronika wondered why he was looking at the ceiling when she had just spilt her feelings to him.

"I don't know, but I sure hope you don't escape while I'm looking at the cool ceiling." He told her, his suggestive tone making her eyes widen. She looked around to see Captain Man still fighting Van Del and her friends, so she took her chance and ran down the escape corridor, but not before coming back to give Henry one last parting kiss.

Having tied up and hoisted the last minion above the floor using his rope, Ray was joined by Henry and they moved in on Van Del, who backed up the stairs as they tried to corner him.

"Don't come near me." He warned Captain Man, who wasn't even a bit scared of him.

"I'm coming near you." He retorted as the two continued to ascend the stairs.

"Leave me alone." Van Del stressed.

"Nope, here I come." Ray inched closer as Van Del's only hope of escape turned out to be a locked door. With his sidekick on his heels, Ray prepared himself to arrest the man.

"I am an artist." The villain tried to say, thinking that what he'd done was right even though the law said otherwise.

"You're a criminal," Ray growled and pushed Van Del over the flimsy railing and into his vat of red paint. 

"AAH! I'M DROWNING!! I'm drawing in my own paint!" The guy shouted pathetically as he splashed about in the warm and sticky liquid.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey!" The two superheroes shouted down at him as he freaked out.

"It's only, like, three feet deep. You can stand up." Ray told him, making the man stop flowering and get to his feet.

"Oh. This is so embarrassing." Van Del said as he wiped the paint from his eyes.

"Yeah."

"It really is." Henry and Ray agreed.

~Back at the Man Cave, (y/n)'s PoV~

"We are live at the Old Maple Grill where Captain Man and Kid Danger just captured the graffiti bandits known as the Wall Dogs." I listened intently to the sudden news report, almost choking on my soda when I heard the story.

"Holy shit, Henry's not evil." I gasped to myself, being alone since Schwoz was off doing 'Schwoz' things and Charlotte had gone home when her work shift had ended. I didn't know whether to feel overjoyed or angry at the superheroes onscreen; Henry was still the sweet kid I knew he was, but then again, I was almost certain that he and Ray had been in cahoots about his so-called 'betrayal' the entire time.

"So what do you guys plan to do with the reward money?" Evelyn Hall, the reporter, asked the two. I have to say, I was more than curious to hear their response since after I'd got hold of them they wouldn't be able to spend it after I'd finished with them. 

Ray lied to me. That's the truth, he knew what was happening the entire time and he just let me believe that the kid had joined that stupid gang for some girl. After working with him for so long, I had thought that we had a mutual trust in our friendship, he could tell me anything and I would have taken the secret to my grave. I thought he knew that, I thought he trusted me. Clearly not.

"Well, the truth is, we never would have found the Wall Dogs if a young teenage boy with gigantic feet hadn't tipped us off." Ray's voice came out of the speakers as I sulked and munched angrily on a spring roll. But my heart melted a little when I realised that they were giving the ten thousand dollars to Jasper so the kid could get his foot reduction surgery thing. 

I sighed to myself, debating whether to feel angry or proud that they had completed their noble mission. I suppose I don't have to know everything that went off in the Man Cave, after all, everyone has their secrets and everyone's entitled to keep their secrets.

"And who was this young man?" Evelyn asked Henry, who leaned towards the microphone so he could speak clearly.

"His name is Jasper Dunlop." The boy answered, making me smile at how kind he was being to his best friend. Any other kid would have kept the ten grand for himself, but not our Henry, selfless as always.

"So, we're going to take the ten thousand dollar reward and give it to Jasper." Ray smiled into the camera, and I couldn't help but smile back. That darn smile always got to me.

Switching off the news, I stood up and looked around the Man Cave. It always felt so big when I was alone, but I knew that my friend would be back soon with his heroic sidekick in tow. Thinking about Henry with a gentle smile on my face, the darkness of his costume snapped into my mind. I groaned when I sussed that the Wall Dogs must've painted it or something when he was fooling them. 

"Stupid paint on stupid fabric never comes off," I growled to no one, thinking that I'd be the one to scrub it clean. It was times like this that made my job feel like work, but when he smiled at me, it felt like bliss. Even if he lied to me and broke my heart more times than I cared to count, I'd always be there, waiting for him to come home. I was in love with him, even if he would never love me back.

~Meanwhile, in the Man Van~

The cops had taken a very messy Van Del away in handcuffs, slamming the police van door in his face as he was scattered off to jail with his minions. It had been a long day's work and they were both relieved to just get in the Man Van and drive home. Jasper would get the reward money and they'd sleep tonight knowing that another one of Swellview's enemies was locked up behind bars.

"Do you think (y/n) will be mad at me?" Henry asked Ray quietly as the man drove along the quiet road.

"What? Nah, she loves you too much kid to be mad at you, she'll just...be mad at me." Ray gulped as he ruffled Henry's hair. He knew that his return to the Man Cave meant he'd have to own up to the fact that he knew that Henry wasn't evil, and his best friend would be beyond pissed.

"She'll forgive you though, I mean, you're best friends." Henry reminded him, but it wasn't enough to quell the man's fear. He had always seen their friendship as the perfect oxymoron; indescribably resilient, but also completely delicate. It had stood the test of time, it had endured every curveball life had thrown at them, it had coped with every girl ray had turned to that wasn't her, but he still felt like a wrong move could shatter it like glass.

"Yeah," Ray said quietly, drowning in his insecurities. Henry wasn't stupid and he had been around the couple long enough to recognise the signs of them floundering with their feelings.

"Man, she always forgives you. You don't have to worry." He comforted his boss, trying to calm his fear that (y/n) would not forgive Ray for lying to her. He could take responsibility for the lie and say that it was his idea, but he didn't need to.

Ray was man enough to go home to her, even if he could never tell her the way he felt. The thought of her waiting up for him made his heart flutter and it endeavoured him to press down harder on the gas.

He would face her wrath, her tears, her disappointment because that was what it took for him to go home to her. He wanted to grovel on his knees until she would accept his pleading for forgiveness, he wanted to fall asleep watching her favourite rom-com, despite the goofy storyline always making him groan. He'd do it all for her, because he loved her, even if she would never love him back.

[taste-thewaste]

fic pride tag

thank you so much for the tags my lovely friends <3 @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

this is going to be interesting because I have to be nice to myself and proud of my work lol let's goooo (all of these are firstprince because i'm vanilla)

1. Gorgeous. Another short little dude in my T Swift series, inspired by the song. This is the first line, and I've always loved it:

They are in a small bar in Paris, drunk on French 75s and the nearness of each other, staring at the Eiffel Tower when Alex starts making fun of him.

2. i wanna touch your body (so fucking electric). my beloved first smut fic!! so proud of how this one turned out actually. here's my favorite bit of the boys sexting each other

Later that night, when Henry is safely sequestered in his rooms and able to do what he likes, he opens his text thread with Alex and sends a barb of his own.  Thinking about the way your dick looks when it’s curved against your belly. You’re so fucking pretty.  Alex’s phone goes off, and he looks away from the skillet that he’s cooking chicken in to check. He reads Henry’s text and his cheeks flame, a bolt of lightning heads straight to his groin, and his dick stirs.  Pretty? Yes. You have a pretty cock, Alex. Sue me.   Alex moans, and he can’t think of what to say because his mind is flushed with want and need. Luckily, Henry seems to know this and follows up.  I want your pretty cock in my pretty mouth so I can hear you beg.  Alex’s dick is painfully hard, and he’s grateful for just a moment, in his haze of arousal, that he’d swapped his characteristically tight jeans for sweatpants when he’d gotten home. He manages to tap out a response before he starts taking care of himself. I’d be begging so loud that we’d rattle the ghosts of all those dead gay kings in that castle. I’d peel the wallpaper with my screams for you, baby.   Alex finishes coming as soon as the smoke alarm in the kitchen goes off. He’s burned the chicken.

3. i could've danced all night. henry tutu fic!! this fic is so filthy, and i love this bit

“You…your dick is, uh, ahhhh, cock, and…” is all Alex manages to spit out before throwing his head back and abandoning all pretense of sexy talk. He can’t focus on anything but the feeling of Henry’s giant hands on him ( seriously , is anything about this man tiny?) and how close he is to coming.  “My ‘dick is cock’, eh? That’s eloquent. Pure poetry, love,” Henry says with a low, throaty laugh, feeling himself going even harder than he already had been. Alex cock drunk is his favorite thing; the idea that he can fuck Alex stupid does something to him. He strokes even faster, shutting Alex up before he can even attempt some kind of comeback.

4. only bought this dress so you could take it off. alex in a little black dress and red bottoms! utter filth. here's my favorite part.

Alex knows what’s coming soon, who’s coming soon, and the thought brings a grin to his face. “Look at you, so out of your mind that you’re reduced to fucking a carpet because you just can’t get enough. It hurts, doesn’t it, you little slut? It hurts but it feels good, it feels so good , doesn’t it?” He punctuates each ‘good’ with a dig of the heels, and then Henry screams, fucking screams like his spirit is being wrenched from his body.  He waits until Henry’s finished—he can tell by the way he is just lying there, spent, his body heaving and out of breath—and then he steps off. The vague part of Alex that is still himself underneath the fog of arousal that’s clouded his head wants to pull Henry up, clean him off, make sure he’s okay. That part, however, is locked in the recesses of his brain, and he wants to keep going because it’s his turn now, and by the look Henry gives him when he sits up, he knows that, too.  “Come here.” Alex snaps his fingers again, and Henry starts to rise to his feet. “Did I say to stand up? I said to come here. ” Henry stops, looks up at Alex like he is confused, but he isn’t, and Alex knows it. He drops to his knees and crawls forward, his knees pushing through the mess he’s made without even thinking, moves forward until he is right in front of Alex.

5. turn the desert to glass (you would be the one). henry's tummy fic, the fic I am most proud of. i worked so hard on it!! here's two of my favorite parts bc i can't pick just one

After a few moments, Alex rests one hand on the lower part of Henry’s belly, where he’s the softest, and leans over to grab another spoonful of mousse. “You look like the most pampered, spoiled, overfed little prince right now,” he says in a low voice as the bite of rich dessert disappears down Henry’s pretty throat.

and

A tiny sound squeaks past Henry’s lips, a sound he can’t control but knows will drive Alex mad, a sound that means more . Alex slips a finger inside of him, and another, opens him up like he is a book he’s been dying to read, and Henry bares down shamelessly, his own hand twisted in the sheets at his side. 

6. Your Lipstick, His Collar. my multi chap emo early 2000s college au being co-written with my bestie! this fic is so. much. fun. and here's a bit I love from one of my chapters:

“Here, you dropped this.” Alex’s iPod, suddenly pinker than anything in the world had a real right to be, is being handed to him. Alex looks up finally and his stomach does a flip as Henry’s eyes, as blue as any ocean he’s ever seen, lock with his. Now that he’s up close, he can see the remnants of yesterday’s eyeliner still smudged around Henry’s eyes, and he wants to know why and how and when and where he’s worn it. He wants to sit next to him and watch him put it on. He wants to watch Henry squeeze into those jeans that are really too tight to be allowed, really too tight to be anything more than a major tease, and he wants to…oh, he has to stop thinking right fucking now because things are going to get even more awkward if he doesn’t. “Thanks,” Alex says quietly, trying to not think about the feeling of Henry’s fingers against his as he takes the iPod. They’re soft and gentle, and all he can imagine is the delicate way they must hold an eyeliner pencil. “I like that song,” Henry says, and Alex can’t handle the way the words come out of his mouth, the way they fall from his lips in the lightest, most dignified accent, like the gentle flapping of a bird’s wing. “What?” Alex blurts stupidly, the word falling from his lips with a thud and rolling down the sidewalk like a giant turd. Christ, he’s an idiot.

7. take me out, and take me home. my newest, my lil baby!

Alex tells him the things he’s never told anyone, and Henry places a hand on his knee while he talks. He is quiet and still and holds Alex’s words with so much reverence and care. In return, Henry tells him the things he’s most afraid of, the things that have hurt him the most. He stares Alex in the eyes and gives him pieces of himself that he has never given to anyone. 

tagging: @england-would-fall @henrysfox @agostobuwan @stratocumulusperlucidus @priincebutt

@piratefalls @doublecheekedkinard those are my 7 but please feel free to use this open tag and tag me if you want to do it!!

[abrthephantomq]

Encoder Zim, Ch 2, pt 2

(You settle into the filthy desk your homeroom “teacher” assigned you. It’s practically falling apart; it wobbles underneath your weight. 

[Note to self: fix the pathetic desk later, so it can hold your wonderful form with ease. Or maybe swap your desk with the Dib’s desk – yesss, that seems like an excellent plan. Let’s do that instead.]

The Dib’s desk, of course, is the one just in front of yours. You’ve long since learned that the humans assign seating based on “last” names. So you’ve long since ensured that you’re in the same classes the Dib’s in; that your desk is always assigned behind his. His giant head might get in the way of you seeing the board, but that’s of little consequence when the humans’ idea of education is so basic you can hand your assignments to GIR and still receive all A’s.)

“Zim! How was your summer, dude?” 

(You turn your head towards one Torque Smackey. The human has grown even more grotesquely shaped over the summer; muscles bulge under his t-shirt. You suppress a shudder and offer him a smile instead.)

Torque! Zim’s summer was just fine. How was yours? 

(You hate the small talk. Humans love the small talk. Not that you don’t love to talk, too, but you love to talk about yourself and your plans and you hate, hate, hate how nosy the humans are. If your mission didn’t require you seamlessly blending in with the dominant species and learning their history – well. 

You drag in air through your clever disguise; humans have stupid appendages called noses, so you have one, too. The air here is so polluted; so thick and heavy, it barely does anything to keep you focused on the words coming out of Torque’s mouth. Not that it matters – you purposely asked him about his summer so you could tune him out and nod along with his rambling, uninteresting story.)

“Oh, dude, wait – something’s different about you. Did you dye your hair?” 

(You tear your eyes away from the door to your homeroom. Turn your attention back to Torque, your claws reaching up to run your fingers through your “hair.” Your smile grows wider.)

Why, yes! Yes I did! My parents agreed that I could dye it blonde, finally. It suits Zim, does it not? 

(You’ve done no such thing, of course. You are a brave Irken Encoder – sent to planets to learn all of their strengths and weaknesses, so that they can be better assimilated into the Irken Empire. You just simply changed the color of the stupid wig, as a test of sorts. Supposedly, humans with this hair color are desired much, much more than humans with other hair colors. You’d considered going red but it clashed horribly with the skin tone you’d chosen for your disguise. You even briefly considered changing your disguise’s skin tone, then decided against it.

You wanted the Dib to be able to recognize you and your brilliant change in your disguise, after all.

Speaking of the Dib – your splorch twists in your abdominal cavity as he steps into the classroom, that wretched human girl Gretchen clinging to his elbow. The human worm baby narrows his eyes at you, and you grin back at him. He looks exhausted; like he hadn’t so much as slept – and his cheek is turning that mottled blue and purple color of a bruise. A mark you left on him, and won’t heal for days. Maybe even weeks!) 

“Of course we’re in the same homeroom…” 

(The Dib’s mouth barely moves as he talks, but your antenna still pick up the vibrations of his words all the same. You cackle at his dismay. He should be honored that you have graced him with your presence, despite his best efforts to sabotage your reconnaissance mission from the night before. 

His best efforts that weren’t even successful, you might add. Because you are ZIM, and he is just some lowly little human baby.

Though, at this age, the human is practically adult-human-sized. You’ve done your research; you know that humans typically continue to grow until approximately 18 Earth revolutions. You, yourself, have even grown some in the handful of rotations you’ve been present on this obnoxious planet. The additional height you’ve gained just tells you you’ve been doing everything right. 

Irkens grow in sporadic bursts, and only when the conditions are exactly right, after all.)

Good morning to you, too, Dib. 

(The human rolls his eyes, dislodges himself from Gretchen’s grip, and walks up the aisle – right towards you. Except the human doesn’t get in your personal space, like you expect him to. He doesn’t loom over your desk, glaring at you and hissing some nonsensical threat. He just… collapses into the seat in front of you, turns his back to you, and puts his head down.

Indignance crawls through your throat tube, robbing space in it for air. How dare the Dib ignore you!)

[Note to self: Make Dib pay for his INSOLENCE.]

[fraternum-momentum]

How do u draw so good. Like ur drawings feel so solid and juicy,,,,very curious how u draw bodies so well and not make the poses look awkward. I also like it when i see ur art i can tell u had fun in making it. Any tips?

be horny as shit, hope this helps 👍

lmao jk (i think) but one thing i did notice is that i hate drawing ppl just standing. Like doing absolutely nothing, not even walking or some shit. My knowledge in anatomy just goes out the window the moment a character is just standing there ominously. so idk make them do something interesting?? Also I avoid straight lines like the plague bc my hands are kinda shaky, but it helps in more dynamic stuff so.

As for posing, study Gian Lorenzo Bernini's work ! His shit is OUGH it's so AUHGH it's fucking UAOHGHHHH

LOOK AT THAT. LOOOOK. WHAT THE FUCK ITS MAJESTIC?????????????? Everything looks like it's floaty and shit it's so magical to me. And look at the C L O T H. bro how???? HOW???? HE DOESNT EVEN HAVE CTRL+Z. That mf just carved that shit on marble what in the actual fuck.

'Il Ratto di Proserpina' is probably his most known work AND FOR GOOD REASON??????? THAT SHIT IS THE JUICIEST OF JUICES ITS SCRUMPTIOUS DELICIOUS. A WHOLE ASS (hah get it) BUFFET. BRO ATE THAT SHIT UP LICKED THE PLATE CLEAN AND ATE THE FUCKING PLATE IDK BUT YEA IT'S GOOD, ITS GREAT, IT'S COOL. Like you can feel how the skin and muscles react when a body part is being gripped, it's such a subtle thing but it adds SOOO much to it like it was already a 100 but that shit brings it to fucking 10000000000 idk dude its rlly rlly good.

Also don't tell me that this man was innocent. Bro was filthy. He was out there depicting gods and saints like this:

AND THE CHURCH JUST LET IT PASS. I mean I'm not complaining its great stuff but damn that nun is just nutting bro. and the best part is...

THERE'S ANOTHER ONE.

2 NUNS. 2 NUNS NUTTING.

I present to you 'Estasi di Santa Teresa D'Avila'.

I remember in class the teacher told us that she was receiving gods blessing or something idk I dont remember it much but the gist of it was that saint Teresa felt ecstasy during that moment. And yeah, she was recieving god's blessing alright, look at her, she passed out and everything. Goddamn, I want a piece of god's blessing too.

In conclusion, he knew what he was doing.

Also, this might be a hot take but Michelangelo's David? I dunno, kiiinda overhyped but Bernini's David??????????

OUHHHHH THE EXPRESSION. LOOK AT THAT POSE. YOU CAN FEEL THE WEIGHT OF IT OUGHHHHHHHH soooo good so fucking gooood.

And this man is the defenition of extra, look at this fucking chair that he made.

He did not need to go that hard on a chair but guess what? he fucking did. Gian Lorenzo Bernini NEVER missed.

[octuscle]

Support dude, it’s me again, Mike. I hit you up so much I feel like I should pay you. And hey if you need that, I’ve got you just tell me. I owe you a shit ton, dude. Since you last helped me, Jack and I tied the fucking knot (and had a hell of a honeymoon haha hadn’t gotten so many noise complaints since high school) and I even moved into his place. Real big and nice like, would make a suburban man cream his pants and even a socialite would do a double take. For as filthy as he can be with me, big boss knows how to fucking live.

But I wouldn’t be hitting you up if everything was all sunshine and rainbows, eh? (Though one of these days I might convince Boss to let you in on our thing for a night or two, just to say thank you if that’s a thing you wanted wink) One of the neighbors apparently doesn’t like it so much when I invite some of the guys at work over for our, let’s call em team bonding events. He bitches and moans about how loud and rowdy we get and how it’s ruining the value of the neighborhood. I almost kicked his ass the first time he came by all bossy and shit, but Boss told me he was President of their HOA or whatever the fuck and that I couldn’t. So I’ve been trying to ignore the prude but if he comes over and ruins another good night I might lose my cool and I don’t wanna let down Boss like that.

Any way you can make the neighborhood meet our lifestyle choices better, dude? I don’t wanna give up this lavish living so soon, it’s nice as hell. But I don’t want it to change me. I wanna change it! Ain’t no reason we can’t live it up without being able to get down if you catch my drift. Can you help me?

I have not invested so much time in my favorite customers, so that you now become adapted suburban bourgeois. So it's time for me to take care of your neighbor. He may be the president of the HOA, after all. But that doesn't give him the right to regulate your private lives. But I could add a little spice to his.

Actually, the boring buffer is not a visitor to the gym. Thank God. So at least you have peace from him there. But today he feels like working out his muscles. And of course, when he enters the locker room, you run right into his arms. And the slimy ass-kisser can do nothing but shake your hand in a friendly way, as if you were best friends. Oops, sorry that your towel slips down.

Normally you are hard as granite when you come back from training. At the sight of your neighbor, the 8 inches dangle limply between your legs. He still seems impressed. To warn your man, you send him a quick message about what to expect during his workout. And write him that you are already preparing everything for dinner at home. "Everything is fine, stallion! daddy wont b disturbed during his workout. Ill b home in 2 hrs"

Your neighbor is blocking the very stations where Jack wants to work out. He has memorized the gym rules and points out every pissy infraction to your husband. In the beginning. But the more Jack sweats, the more musk he exudes, the hornier your neighbor gets. And slowly he starts to change. Actually, sleeveless tops are not allowed in the gym. You both don't care. And your neighbor now too. With the white wifebeater he looks almost like Jack's gym buddy. And he's starting to smell like one, too. It's hard to believe that just a few minutes ago he was the overgroomed suit guy. His armpit hair is sprouting. He obviously hasn't been to the barbershop in a few months either. He stops regimenting your husband. The two of them start working out together as if they've been doing it forever. Steve (your neighbor) can't get enough of having Jack's sweaty workout shorts hanging in front of his face during the bench press. His bulge gets bigger and bigger. And the damp spots in his shorts aren't just from sweat. Jack asks if it's not time to go to the locker room. Steve replies that he was already afraid that Jack wouldn't even ask.

"is it k if i bring a pal 2 dinner" texts Jack. "he 1't want much mor then ur cum and mine." "then he shud bring big appetite" you reply. Shit, this time when Steve shakes your hand, nothing is limp between your legs. Enjoy the evening with the president of the HOA to the fullest!

Pics all found @thelockerroomblog

[tradetobest]

dee's january 2024 fic recs

ok so. i thought i'd do a fic rec list every month this year of just my favourite fics that got bookmarked in the month (not necessarily written in the past month) that had just passed... i was a bit busy for the past few days but FINALLY i got the chance to sit down so!!

(if you want to play fic roulette here's some blind links otherwise!! enjoy under the cut

1 2 3 4 5 6)

3:30 by sevenfists

pairing: sidney crosby/evgeni malkin rating: E words: 11k summary: Napping with Sid would be inconvenient, embarrassing, and more than a little gay, and maybe Zhenya was a little gay, but he didn’t need to advertise it.

i LOVE "oh this thing we do together has become a routine now we Have to do it before games" fics and you should too!! this one is So cute i love it....

waiting for confessions of love by catchingpapermoons

pairing: jamie drysdale/trevor zegras/mason mctavish rating: M words: 41k summary: “I’ll be so real with you, man,” Trevor says, pulling back. “I had no fucking idea you liked dudes.”

one thing about me is that i am an absolute sucker for miscommunication and will love it at all costs and this fic DELIVERS!!!! and so well!!

high into the blue by idday

pairing: jack eichel/connor mcdavid rating: T words: 10k summary: Lieutenant John Eichel of the United States Navy – Boston to his squadron and Jack to the people who matter – is reckless and cocky and too smug for his own damn good. But even Connor has to admit that the boy can goddamn fly. (Captain Connor McDavid, Royal Canadian Air Force, is by the book in the worst way, conservative and careful and liable to get himself killed out there. Jack shouldn’t be impressed by him. He really shouldn’t.)

when i tell you i SCREAMED when i got the notif for this fic and then immediately went and watched top gun.,.... if you know me you know anything idday puts out i literally eat up like mceichel is the only thing that will ever sustain me ever again and this was NO exception,,,, always a pleasure to be able to experience an idday fic is what i say

play your heart out by ribena

pairing: leon draisaitl/connor mcdavid rating: M words: 4k summary: Connor loses his heart. Leon finds it for the both of them.

oughh./.. ouhhh.... what even to say.... clutches my heart (lol)...... beautiful..... i literally screamed cried went through it..... please read like literally begs you

nobody wins afraid of losing by adelphenium

pairing: tyler bertuzzi/dylan larkin rating: E words: 12k summary: It’s been almost a year since the first trade. It’s been just a few weeks since they last saw each other, facing off on the ice here in Toronto. In all the months since the Boston run, Tyler’s done nothing but read Dylan’s texts from the notifications bar like a sad and filthy sack of shit, too weak not to feel a thrill whenever a Saw that goal, what a beauty berts or a Hope you’re sleeping ok came through. Or: Tyler and Dylan during the 2024 bye week.

"hey you bookmarked this one on december 31st" IM PUTTING IT IN JANUARY!!!!! PLEASE READ THIS FIC!!!!! not only did jamie adelphenium write it but its just. it has shaped the way i view tyler bertuzzi and sparked a love for mr hockey butt himself..... what a good fic yall please read

reserve your ardors by wrightsworth

pairing: jamie benn/tyler seguin rating: E words: 9k summary: Jamie was in over his head. He had been out of his depth for months if he was being honest, ever since he picked Seggy up from the airport that first time in the humid Dallas air and his Omega genes decided to make themselves known, and loudly.

it wouldnt be me without some good old bennguin and RAHH pining and omegaverse and unrequited-requited and miscommunication like what else could you want in a fic its so good

[starsinthenigth]

I would love to see tye donnie g/t headcannon with a borrower

★bsrhe ohmystars, an ask- hi★

— |✷| SUMMARY : The turtles reaction to finding a tiny/borrower.

— |✷| WARNINGS/TW : hints of imprisonment I think, calling/referring to a person (the tiny) as an it.

— |✷| DISCLAIMERS : Each turtle head-canon will have a different post, the character may be a bit occ, this one’s a bit of a slow burn, my first language is not English so please tell me if I got anything wrong. Also, this will be longer than the Raphael headcanon aaaaa-

— |✷| TURTLE HEADCANON: Donatello Hamato

CONTEXT BEFORE THE ENCOUNTER

— |★| Okay so, first of all- i feel like if something got taken away from his lab and room, he would know. theres nothing you can’t take from this dude without him going "At-at-at, you put that BACK-!” — |☆| Yeah, he would sense if something went missing in his lab. — |★| So, once he'd start noticing that somehow, someway or someone, has been messing with his tech or tools, he would well- immediately become suspicious. So, he decides that he has two options to find out what’s going on. First option, Interrogate Leo, second one- look through the cameras of his lab to see who’s been taking his stuff. — |☆|..he chooses the second option (somehow) — |★| Yeah so, he checks the cameras, yada yada, looks closely, yeah yeah, stares at the screen that is now shows a small figure climbing onto his desk, before trying to drag his screwdriver, perfectly normal. — |☆| ..WAIT. wait wait wait, hold on.. he double checks, triple- LIES, he quadruple checks the camera footage. He can see every equation in his head, trying to figure out what that thing is, why is it so small, how’d it get in the lair? And why is it doing the sin of messing around with his equipment? — |★| although he is rather intrigued and has many Inquiries, he is most likely not pleased with the information he is given. So he eventually comes to the conclusion that he has to both confront and learn more stuff about that little thief.

THE ENCOUNTER

— |☆| So, from first sight, i believe that donatello would mistake the tiny/borrower for a bug, which would most likely cause him to freak out. — |★| In fact, if he didn’t know that there were in the lair, he would freak out even more- and for a couple of moments, sorry, minutes, his brain would lag, which is something that happens every blue moon /j — |☆| But no, he learned about their existence beforehand and will learn more things about them- he has questions and they must be answered!! You heard about his ‘speech mode’ right? Now prepare for the 'question mode’! a mode where the 'off button’ is you giving him answers to inquiries that he has!! (no, you cannot run away from this mode) — |★| Unlike my Raphael headcanon, the tiny/borrower would have to worry about getting picked up without being asked first, because i feel like Donatello would use one of the mechanical 'spider arms’ in his battle shell to either keep them in place or grab them in case they try to leave. He refuses to pick them up with his hand, they've been living in the damp walls of the lair. And the lair is located in the sewer. Imagine how dirty and filthy it would be in there. — |☆| He’d also pull them up to his eye level for a little examination of them- so the tiny/borrower would be met with the soft-shell’s face, which would have a mixture of annoyance and what they assume is interest painted over it. — |★| He would start asking them stuff about how they managed to get down here, what are they, who are they, what is their purpose in the lair, did they saw him work and if so, did they like his work? “Return my equipment you little-”, all that while not letting them leave. It's some sort of an interrogation type of thing. — |☆| As/if the tiny/borrower answers his questions and give him the information he requires from them, for a moment they will/would see stars in his eyes (that can be both a good and a bad sign) — |★| Another little headcanon that I have, is that until he’d finds out their actual name, he’d refer to them with nick-names instead, such as 'Little Guy’ or 'You little fiend'.

— |✷| ADDITIONAL NOTES:

|✷| That is all I have for nowbsjsbs |✷| hsjsbs thankyoufortheask aaahh <3★ |✷| snjs also, I'm so sorry for any grammar mistakes, or if Donatello feels a little OOC. |✷| Also, I might add more to this do- urh, yeah, bye

[hermannsthumb]

Hello! My dumb autistic ass decided to go into ~autistic burnout~ right before finals so I missed an entire final and I'm looking forward to a month of intensive therapy to see if I can even go back to college. If you could write a winter prompt for our favorite dumb scientists I would be so friggin happy! Maybe 25 or 35?

25. i love snow days because it means that you trek across town to hang out with me and watch movies on the couch except this time you demand to know who i’m crushing on and i don’t know how to say you

from winter prompts here

filling this one a little (ie...four years....) late because it got lost in the depths of my inbox. imagining this set post-movie in the weird realm of 'are we dating???' because it's stupidly fun to write

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

They're well-practiced enough in their traditions at this point that Newton knows to hang his coat on the door hooks rather than simply flinging it into the ether (only to complain when he cannot find it later), but the same cannot be said, unfortunately, of his treatment of his boots, which are filthy on the best of days and positively caked with snow now, and which are currently tracking all manner of puddles and mud across Hermann's poor front hallway. Fortunately Hermann is well-practiced enough in this as well to know to seize Newton by the back of his t-shirt before he can make it remotely in the direction of the small sitting room—and, of course, to keep a stash of old hand towels in the hall closet for faster mopping-up. "I bought a shoe rack," Hermann gripes, as Newton grins at him sheepishly, "specifically for you. Your very own shoe rack, Newton."

Newton ducks over to tug at his sodden bootlaces, and melted snow drips from his hair and pools on the scuffed hardwood floor. Hermann grits his teeth. "Sorry, sorry, I know," Newton says. He gets one boot off and tosses it in the direction of the shoe rack, which, Hermann will give Newton credit, is more than he expected of his friend. "I forgot. I was excited. Oooops. You wanna toss dinner in the microwave or something while I clean this up? It's definitely, like, frozen by now."

Hermann delicately picks up the bag of takeaway (one of Newton's myriad of tote bags, and likewise dripping melted snow everywhere) that Newton hung on the doorknob and nods. It was Newton's turn to pick the restaurant this time, which means it is likely Taco Bell and whatever bottle of wine he could dig up from his small kitchen pantry. Hermann cannot imagine the food will reheat well. "I hope your walk wasn't too unpleasant," he says. He peeks into the bag as he navigates around Newton and into his kitchen and is pleasantly surprised to find that Newton has actually stopped off at a rather nice noodle place they've frequented together before. It's one of Hermann's favorites. He smiles to himself, only because he's certain that Newton will not be able to see it, and puts the cardboard takeout container directly in the microwave.

"Nah," Newton calls. "I mean, it totally was, but it was worth it."

His sock-cushioned footsteps echo into place behind Hermann just as their dinner finishes, and he begins making himself at home in the kitchen, pulling out plates and cutlery from Hermann's cupboards and laying everything out on the counter. "Worth it," he repeats, and then continues pointedly, "but, uh, kinda unnecessary. And more expensive. Twice as expensive, literally. You know I have an extra bedroom, dude."

Hermann divides the food into two portions between the plates in silence. "Yes, so do I," he says, mildly. "The second one made for a marvelous office. You ought to try that."

Newton sighs. "Right," he says. "Where's your corkscrew?"

The only couch Hermann has in his sitting room is second-hand, left by the previous renters who undoubtedly did not feel up to the task of fitting it back through the somewhat narrow front door. It's a loveseat, which at the time Hermann did not mind, and indeed felt rather nostalgic about: it reminded him of the old, ragged one he and Newton had carted into the k-science laboratory over a decade ago and the nights they'd spent dozing at each other's sides (all pretenses of animosity gone) when the work became simply too much to bear. Anyway, it wasn't as if he was expecting to host a revolving door of guests. Only Newton. Unfortunately it also means he's got nowhere to hide when Newton is cross with him about something, and the lingering air of tension between them shrinks from the whole of Hermann's kitchen to a mere two inches as they crowd in next to each other, avoiding eye contact and hugging the overstuffed arms as tightly as they can. "You could buy another chair, you know," Newton finally says. "Now that we're actually getting, like, paid. Enough for two more chairs. Three more chairs."

"What would I do with three chairs?" Hermann says.

"Sit in them?" Newton says. "I don't know, what do people normally do with chairs?"

"I like this one just fine," Hermann says. "Besides, you're the only one I ever have round. Seems a bit pointless. And a waste of space, really."

Newton glances at him curiously, then reaches for the remote control far too casually for Hermann's liking. He flips through a few streaming services and cable channels before settling on a bland-looking romantic comedy and turning the volume down so low it's practically inaudible. "Sooooo," he says. "I'm guessing that your date last week didn't go well, then?"

Hermann stifles a small groan. Date is not precisely the word he would have chosen, though he supposes for all intents and purposes he had, in fact, gone on a date last week. He had been attracted to the man, a fellow he'd met at a bar when he and Newton had gone out for drinks to celebrate the end of the semester earlier that December, and who had been bold enough to ask for Hermann's mobile number in front of both his own friends and Newton, which Hermann had thought was rather dashing at the time. They had met up last Friday. It was evening, as Hermann thought most proper dates were. They had eaten dinner. He had said all sorts of complimentary things to Hermann and had accepted Hermann's invitation back to his flat for tea (the first excuse that came to Hermann's mind) without any hesitation. It all went a bit downhill when they began kissing and that sort of business, and Hermann came to the terrible realization that he had only given out his mobile number for the express purpose of making Newton jealous. "Er," Hermann says. "N-not precisely. He was a perfect gentleman, it was—my fault, I suppose."

("I'm very sorry," he said, "but I've been in love with my colleague for quite some time, and I don't think I'm being very fair to you.")

There's a flash of something like relief behind Newton's eyes, and he smiles far too smugly for Hermann's liking. At least he doesn't push for more details. "Awww," he says. "Sorry."

"Oh, be quiet," Hermann snorts.

"You're out of his league anyway," Newton says. He flings an arm around Hermann's shoulders and tucks Hermann in against him. On the television screen, the two romantic leads make eyes at each other in the snow. "Any other hot dates lined up? What about that guy in the chem department, with the motorcycle? The one we met at that stupid barbecue? You totally thought he was sexy. I could scope out the situation. Wingman you. Was it the motorcycle that did it for you, or...?"

Hermann clears his throat. "He's our colleague," he says, and feels himself blush at the grin Newton sends his way. "It would be—vastly inappropriate."

Newton rubs absently at Hermann's shoulder, as if working out a knot that Hermann himself was unaware of. It feels damned good, actually, Hermann doesn't mind it in the slightest. "No one else, then?"

Of course there is, you fool, Hermann thinks. Newton must know; Newton simply must know. His body is warm, and he smells nice, like his deodorant. Hermann would like very much to rest his head upon Newton's shoulder and fall asleep. Or, perhaps—if Newton was amenable—if Hermann could but gather up the courage— He wonders what kissing Newton would feel like, what his lips would feel like. He often wonders things like this. He wonders what would have happened if he had accepted Newton's offer of the spare bedroom in his—their, really, Hermann supposes it would have become—flat in the first place rather than pitching a fit and insisting on letting his own, or what would happen if he would simply admit to himself the spare bedroom in his own flat was subconsciously intended for Newton all along as well. Perhaps—after some time—they might fall into new routines, and they wouldn't need separate rooms at all, and Hermann might—well, it's silly to think about things that might never be.

He does not fear Newton's rejection, but rather the opposite. (Hermann made a career out of predicting disaster, after all, and it's very hard to shut that part of his brain off.) The fallout of it all if everything inevitably goes wrong. He can handle his tragic, unrequited romance, but requited... Newton is his oldest and dearest friend. And, er, rival, he supposes. He's not sure what he would do without him. "No," he says. "Or—yes, I suppose. There is. Only I'm not sure if it would work out."

"Welllll," Newton says, dragging out the word far too slowly, and he nudges the side of Hermann's head with his hand until Hermann (unable to help himself, or his smile) relents and rests it on Newton's shoulder. Newton threads the fingers of his other hand with Hermann's. "If you ever change your mind, Hermann, I'm sure he would be interested. Whenever you're ready. Just say the word."

"I'll bear that in mind," Hermann says.