#this is closed already but its neat so

[ragingtwilight]

Ayo?? Something other than FNaF fanart???

No way.......

[nivq87]

:)

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i have a new theory for aru sekai fans & by new i mean someone else might have caught on already but i havent seen it said SO. the rute furutewoa melody is in kyuuyaku, touhikou, & now kannagi (maybe elsewhere bc i havent been looking for this motif before i only realized it today really & i havent had time to go thru all the songs again yet) & we have kyuu (past), something in touhikou im too tired to remember currently but i remember calling something similar a while ago when someone asked if there was a timeline to this, and now kannagi that uses the older language so im willing to bet this motif is a way of saying the events in the song happened in the "past". whether thats actually Long Ago or just to say its not the current situation or just happened before the songs without it i cant say for sure but i think it makes sense given what we have now.

just like we have the nami no ne no motif that signals which characters still have their "self" if its in the song or lost it if its not.

i have to do some more digging of course but with what i know right now this makes the most sense to me

[katyspersonal]

I need to consider seeking half-time job, honestly. I have no idea how I am doing what I am doing in such broken mental state. I can’t work SO much anymore, spare time I do have is not enough to fulfill my emotional + health + social needs (which I have extra because I am super mentally ill so naturally regular amount of days off is not enough).

[suguann]

Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 

"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”

The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.

Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.

He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.

"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”

You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.

Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.

His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”

Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.

Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.

Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 

“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”

Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.

“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”

Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.

Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"

You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 

"Ah, fuck—b-but–"

Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 

"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.

Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.

He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."

The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”

Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.

Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.

Masterlist

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it���s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[wriothesleybear]

Outlaw!Boothill x Saloongirl!reader headcanons

~warnings: slight mentions of jealousy, stealing, and western stand offs that involve guns, shooting a man. Otherwise, mentions of flirting, nicknames, cheesy pickup lines from our favorite robot cowboy, pre-release Boothill, fem!reader.

~a/n: Just a quick little something due to @the-guardian-kitsune wanting me to share my thoughts on Mr. Robot Cowboy. Boothill's leaks are invading my mind while I wait for the update today. His ultimate...omg its so good! Is it bad that I get tingles when I hear the whip in his animation?

Outlaw!Boothill is the most fearsome outlaw in the town. Everyone runs to close their shops and doors when he comes into town. He's usually harassing the town sheriff with his buddies or robbing people. If someone gets on his nerves and actually has the guts to try and stand up to him, it likely ends in a stand off.

Outlaw!Boothill spends his time flirting with you when he's not busy stealing and holding up stagecoaches and trains. Always goes to your saloon, specifically for you. No one else really captured his eye except for you. Plus most of the other saloon girls are scared of him. For some reason, you're not. Hence, making him take interest in you. While everyone usually steers clear of him, you aren't afraid to talk to him.

How you guys met was he stomped his way into your saloon one day, looking for some whiskey. Seeing the most wanted outlaw, your other customers immediately fled. He plops himself down in a chair, kicking his boots up onto the table, waving his hand for a drink. "Hey little lady, you mind gettin' me some whiskey. Neat." You were already annoyed at this cowboy storming his way in your saloon, scaring your customers off and ruining your business.

Boothill looks up and notices you haven't moved from your spot behind the counter. Instead, you're crossing your arms and giving him an annoyed look. He glares at you. "Did you hear me darlin'? Whiskey. Neat." You don't move an inch, returning his glare and simply say no. He's caught a bit off guard for a second. He's used to people being too scared to stand up to him. "No?" He gets up, slowly walking towards the bar where you're at. "Do you know who I am." He points to the wanted sign on the wall nearby, his face adorns the flier. You glance at it. "Yeah. And? I don't serve rude customers. Either learn some manners or get out." Now he's thrown off his high horse. He's never had someone call him out like you did. You expected him to become more hostile, but instead, he just laughs. "Alright little lady." Since that day, he's been attracted to you. He likes the way you aren't afraid to stand up for yourself and speak your mind, especially towards him. He likes the 'feisty little lady that you are'. His own words that he used when he first asked you out.

Outlaw!Boothill teases you to get you worked up on purpose. If you really want to get him to shut up, call him "Bootie". The first time you called him that, you swear you saw his cheeks go red. Knowing the effect the nickname has on him, you use it when you're not in the mood for his teasing. But the times when you get so annoyed at his teasing that you angrily walk away, he uses his whip to grab you, pulling you right back into his arms and dipping you. Your heart skips a beat as he lowers his head to yours. You hold your breath while at a loss for words as he says, "Now where do you think you're going little lady?"

Outlaw!Boothill gets jealous when other men try to swoon you or check you out in your little saloon outfit. He is a protective boyfriend and is the type to defend your honor. So when he sees someone harassing you, he either challenges them to a stand off or he just straight up takes care of them right there in the saloon. Ugh just imagine: watching as the two men take 10 paces in opposite directions as everyone watches from the sidelines. Nerves invade your senses, worries cloud your mind about the men fighting over you. You don't want anyone to get hurt especially Boothill. Then, at the end of the countdown, both men quickly turn to each other, guns raised and they go off. Boothill is left standing as the other man falls to the floor. He walks over to you as you're left in shock. "Now darlin'. How about a kiss for your cowboy?"

Outlaw!Boothill who spoils you with his attention and gifts (which he probably stole). He gets a bit annoyed and offended when you don't accept his gifts, saying how he shouldn't steal things from others. It just goes over his head and he says "Darlin', I think you're the real criminal here since you stole my heart." This usually shuts you up. Your cheeks turn red as he smirks. Turning away from him, you quietly say, "Just.. go easy on stealing gifts for me, Bootie." He ignores your signature nickname for him and turns you to face him. Pulling you close to his chest, he says, "Whatever you say, darlin'." He gives you his signature shark tooth smile. He would never admit it but he's whipped for you. No pun intended.

[maryrouille]

Toxic romanticization of studying

In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.

The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.

1. You shouldn't get up at 5am

First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!

2. You can be a genius without good grades

Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.

3. It's not cool to think you're better than others

We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.

The good thing about romanticizing studying

As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.

1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be

We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?

Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.

2. Not just cramming, but also discovering

Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.

3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice

Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.

Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.

*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny thinks he's done a wonderful job all things considered. His city is safe, no one has died yet, no major injuries, Vlad had screwed off after Danny beat him within an inch of his afterlife (Danny learned that Vlad was a revenant abusing dirty ectoplasm for powers-not a halfa), ect.

Most of his rogues gallery also stopped bothering him once it became clear he was having trouble keeping his increased power in check and was trying hard not to hurt them. Unfortunately there was one who refused to leave him alone. A warrior princess was demanding his hand in marriage as she needed to be married by the summer solstice of next year or the throne would be passed down to her younger sister, who was already married.

It didn't matter how many times he said no, she kept coming back and challenging him for his hand. Each time she came back stronger and with new tactics and weapons to try. He was starting to fear she might actually win one day. That day might be sooner rather than later as her latest scheme was cutting it close.

Deciding that 1. Amity didn't need him anymore if he closed the portals 2. He was probably going to have to leave anyway if he loses and 3. He didn't have a future in this world as Fenton anymore he leads her on a wild goose chase back into the GZ and causes the portals to collapse in on themselves. The princess laughs, thinking he had given up. But no.

Danny put a curse on himself to turn him into a bat for the next year or so, a full month longer than the princess had left to find a spouse. She screams. Appearently she had a phobia of bats, who knew? Anyway he was left alone to fly through the Infinite Realms and find a new home.

He found a new world easily thanks to the natural portals of the IR and crossed though. Immediately being pelted on all sides by freezing cold rain was not what he expected but its what he got as he flew over a sign that proclaimed the city beneath him was called Gotham. The little glowing white bat flew through the night for hours before seeing a fruit bowl laying innocently on a kitchen counter through a window. Whats more it was in some giant manor so the occupants probably wouldn't mind if he ate an orange or two.

Right?

Needless to say a kid around the age of 11 or twelve walked in on him clutching an apple like his life depended on it while furiously munching. The kid looked...excited? He started going on about names and what he would need to care for him. Danny wasn't really listening, he didn't realize how hungry he had been until he started eating. He waited until the kid had looked away to turn himself and his apple invisible. This bothered the kid who looked suspicious but went to look for "the bat" anyway.

Later, while Danny was taking a shower in the kitchen sink to wash off the remains of his meal (I headcanon that Danny is a bit of a neat-freak) some other guy walked in holding an empty coffee mug and wearing eyebags that would put a raccoon to shame. They just stared at eachother for a solid few seconds before Danny started squeeking in rage and covering himself with the washcloth he was using to scrub himself clean. It looked like something out of a cartoon. Tim thought he was hallucinating but why would he hallucinate a glowing white bat with hearts all around it (that part isn't real) taking a shower in the kitchen sink. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something??

The next victim person to spot him was Duke who just stood in his doorway as this glowing white bat rolled an orange down the hallway. He decided this was a problem for the night crew and went to tell them.

Alfred saw a small shock of white fur and heard squeeking. His first thought was 'rat' and he didn't even hesitate. Danny dodged 3 bullets and got the hell out of the kitchen.

The batfam are debating on whether this was a shifter or an meta animal that was experimented on.

[rodolfoparras]

Oh to be with old man price right now drunk on shitty wine and dancing to hozier in a dimly kitchen.

It’s not every day that you get to see Price this relaxed. Usually his mind is spinning with hundreds of thoughts- wondering if an old man like him is fit for someone young like you, wondering if there is someone who could treat you better than him, someone closer to your age someone who’s not jarred from the years they spent living, someone better looking who you could spend the rest of your life with-

But tonight he can only think about what a lucky bastard he is to have a man like you in his life. He’s got this lazy smile on his face as he pears up at you over his wine glass, and having noticed his blatant staring you can’t help but ask what’s on his mind.

“Nothing” he says, and downs what’s left in his glass. It’s not often he allows himself drink, not ever since his doctor told him to go easy with the beers. His body can’t handle alcohol like it used to and many times it has shown him that. But every once in a while he’ll allow himself a glass, especially on nights like these and he can already feel the alcohol having its effect on him, the tension in his body slowly easing up, and tongue readying itself to say too much.

However you won’t let it go, arms slinking around his waist and pulling him into your embrace

“Tell me” you whine out, into his salt and pepper hair, mindlessly rocking side to side with him in your embrace.

“Keep up with that and I’ll throw up on you,” Price grunts out, eyes squeezing shut in hopes of lessening the effects of the rocking motions but despite his words he sneaks his own arms around your waist , sweat soaked forehead pressed against your chest while he moves along to the music that’s playing in the background.

Your skin feels ever so warm while pressed flushed against his, the faint smell of your cologne and laundry detergent invades his nostrils and standing this close he’s sure he can hear your heartbeat or maybe it’s his very own pulse roaring in his ears.

This is nice, Price thinks to himself, even finds himself humming along to the tune playing from your phone before he starts softly singing to you

“You know you’re bright as the morning, soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape “ Price gets so lost in the moment, he doesn’t even notice the amused smile on your face as he continues to sing. “If you can sit in a barrel maybe I’ll wait. Until that day I’d rather take my whiskey neat my coffee black and my bed at three,”

For many years Price thought that death was his ever lasting companion, that God was going to punish him for all the crimes he’s committed, that he’d end up all alone and loveless, with only the Grim reaper taking interest in such a sad and lonely man yet here he was drunk and dancing with the love of his life in your shared kitchen.

He indeed is a lucky bastard.

The gentle touch of your hand on his cheek, snaps him out of the little world he disappeared in and when his eyes flutter open, he’s met with your soft gaze and the warm smile painted on your face.

“What?” He says, and clears his throat, feelings his face turn red as ever

“Nothing,” you shrug, echoing his words from earlier with a small smile on your face and just as he’s about to ask a follow up question, you pull him in for a kiss.

All thoughts disappear as you mold your lips onto his. You mostly tastes of wine and of something sweet, probably the slice of store bought cake you sneaked in as dessert and Price finds himself addicted to it, easily getting lost in the taste, and the feel of your prickly hairs brushing across his chin, all while sweet grunts and groans tumble past your lips.

In that very moment he feels a surge of pride washing over him. See Price may harbor many insecurities but he knows how to kiss and he sure makes it clear as his own hand cups your cheek to deepen the kiss.

It doesn’t take much before he’s slipping his tongue inside your mouth, free hand sneaking under your pajama pants and cupping you in the palm of his hand.

“Oh- oh fuck,” you breathe out in surprise, eyes wide as he feels you twitch under his touch.

“How about we take this somewhere else hm?” Price says, playfully nibbles at your ear before he pulls away from your embrace and who are you to deny such request?

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: Businessman! San x wife! Reader

Word Count: 1887

Warnings: cursing, none otherwise (smut warnings under cut)

Genre: smut, fluff, rated M for mature, established relationship au, office au

Summary: After delivering lunch to your husband's office, the two of you get a little sidetracked.

Smut warnings: fingering, oral (male & female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap before tap guys🔫), wall/window sex, dirty talk, some degradation (whore, slut, being desparate), felch...ing (i think that's the right term?), cum play, semi-public sex (or its public...they're in san's private office during work hours), some petnames (silly girl because i discovered i have a new kink)

I'm only doing a couple of the February Filth Fest, and this is day/track 21! aphrodisiacs/overstimulation, and i chose the latter! i hope you don't mind how questionable this is lol i wrote it practically in a day

And if you want to know what other days I'm doing? You'll just have to wait and see ;)

-

“San, I brought you lunch,” you call as you open the door to your husband’s office. “Are you busy?”

Your husband, sharp as ever in a tailored Brioni suit, turns to greet you with his million-watt smile as he opens his arms to wrap you in a hug. You eagerly close the door behind you and set down the bag of food as you embrace him, giggling as he lifts you up to spin you around and press his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m never too busy for you, love,” San hums. “Will you join me for lunch?”

You nod, leaning over to open up the bag. “I brought pork belly soup and rice with some kimchi. I did buy you coffee but I drank it on the way up.” San snorts, slapping your butt gently in retaliation and you giggle. You turn to swat his hands away when you drop a fork. “Ah, shit.”

You bend down, reaching out for the fork, when hands grab your hips and pull you towards him until your ass bumps against San’s hips. “Oh–” you squeak, twisting around in San’s grip to stare wide-eyed at his now-darkened gaze. The two of you have plenty of sex at home, but you’ve never seen such a quick response to you doing a simple motion such as bending down. “San?”

“I hope you’re not too hungry, (Y/N),” San sighs, his hands wandering up your hips to wrap around your waist and tug you impossibly closer, fingers dipping into the waistband of your skirt. “I don’t think I can let you look this good without ravishing you.”

“I– but your desk is so clean,” you fret, glancing at the neat papers all lined up. “I don’t want to mess that up.”

San hums, looking you up and down. And in one swift motion, he grasps your thighs and hoists you up, setting you against his crotch. You gasp and grab at his back, grabbing onto the suit jacket and hooking your legs against him. “San!”

San grins wolfishly at you, adjusting his grip as he carries you over to the window wall overlooking the city. “Come on baby, let me love you like you deserve. It's a one-way glass, but honestly, everyone deserves to see how beautiful you are for me.” As he speaks, he presses your back against the cool glass and you whine a little as the shirt you’re wearing has an open back.

San fumbles with his pants before finally pulling out his already hard cock and pressing it against your panties, letting it rub against the soft fabric. “San” you moan, already gushing slick and soaking your underwear “you’re going to get tired.” You’re protesting half-heartedly, excited to see where this is going. San rarely is this risky with you, and you’re almost ashamed to admit it’s turning you on.

“Silly girl,” he groans, leaning forward until his nose is just barely brushing against yours. “For you, I couldn’t get enough of this. Just as long as I am near you, that’s all I need.” He punctuates his sentence with a long kiss to your lips and you groan into the kiss.

Without you even noticing, his hand pushes aside your ruined panties and he presses into your tight heat with a loud groan. “So tight for me,” he groans into your mouth, biting and tugging at your lower lip as his hips slowly thrust deeper and deeper into you. He’s burning hot inside of you, and you whine at the feeling, pressing your lips to his in a feverish kiss.

“Shit,” you whine as he finally bottoms out, your ass flush against his hips as he grinds into you. “You’re so fucking big, San.” Your nails are digging into his back, the pain making San groan and his cock twitch inside of you.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, biting, nipping, and licking at your skin as his hips work himself into you. When his teeth sink fully into the junction of your shoulder you can hardly hold back a scream of pleasure. “San, please,” you’re already begging and it’s only been a few minutes. But the way he’s stretching you out so deliciously makes you lose your mind. You clench around him, shifting in his hold just to try and work him into you the way you like it.

“Fuck, look at you, (Y/N). Already desperate for my cock,” San growls into your ear, pressing you even more into the glass window. “Do you off to it? The idea that people could look up and see just how much of a whore you are for me?”

With every word, he thrusts up into you and you’re a little embarrassed at how quickly you come, arching your back and letting your head rest against the cool glass as ecstasy washes over you in waves.

“Already so done?” San smirks, carrying you back to his desk and sitting at the chair, you still in his lap and his hard cock still spearing deep inside you, making you whine. “Such a mess for me, God, you’re so perfect for me.”

Your lips press against his feverishly as you moan into his mouth, letting your tongue flick out against his lips. “So full,” you mutter against his mouth. “Fuck– you’re splitting me open so well, Sannie.” You wriggle your hips down, squeezing around him and he comes with a broken moan. The cum inside of you is searing hot but you can’t get enough of it, grinding down onto him to try and milk the last bit out of him.

To your surprise, his erection has not gone down a bit, and San’s lips pull into a crooked smile as his eyes narrow. “I hope you know you’re not done quite yet. Only one orgasm? That’s just sad.” His hips kick up a bit as he speaks, and you moan from the overwhelming feeling. It’s almost painful, but that’s what you’re obsessed with.

But before either of you can continue, a knock sounds at the door and San quickly lifts you off his dick and you slide to the floor under the desk. “Come in,” San calls out, voice a little rough, and he clears his throat. His pants are still unzipped and his hard cock is just waiting for you.

Your eyes flick up to him and he’s not focusing on you, so you reach out and brush against the glistening head of his dick. His hand almost immediately comes down to drip at your hair and you can’t hold back a smirk before dipping your head down to kiss his dick. YOu can hear San choking on his words and his hands tighten but something overcomes you and you only sink deeper onto his dick.

The heavy weight resting on your tongue makes it hard for you to contain your noises and you press your tongue to the underside of his cock. San’s trying his best to stay collected as he talks business and meetings, but you can feel his dick twitch every time you swallow around him and something about it drives you crazy.

Without warning, San pushes your head down on his dick even further and your hands grip his thighs as your eyes roll back in your head. It’s only now you realise his cum inside you is slowly dripping out alongside his arousal. Your mind is swirling with so many thoughts that when his cock hits the back of your throat and his grip tightens even more, your eyes widen before ropes of cum shoot down your throat and you come in your panties with a quiet moan.

“What was that?”

Your eyes snap open at the question and San’s voice is tight as he tries to evade suspicion. “Ah– I think the aircon is messed up. I’ll have to- ah, talk to maintenance about that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my lunch.”

The employee apologises and leaves. As soon as the door clicks, San pushes back, letting his cock fall out of his mouth and he raises a single eyebrow at you. “Just couldn’t get enough, huh?” he sneers, although his eyes are raking over your body. “Come here.”

You stand with wobbly legs before making your way over to him. “I–” You don’t even get a chance to say anything when he grabs your waist and spins you around, before pushing you down onto his desk. “San!” you scold as he flips your skirt up to reveal your ass.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growls, his hand coming to cup your clothed cunt. “Soaking right through your underwear like the slut you are. Sucking my dick in front of my secretary? What, did you want him to join us?”

“No,” you whine, “I just wanted you.”

San chuckles, low in his throat, before pulling your underwear down in one motion. Your sopping cunt stares him right in the eye, and if you look down, you can see strings of your slick and his cum connecting the fabric to your pussy. And before you can blink, San’s mouth attaches itself to your pussy. “Ah–” you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. You’re so sensitive from your previous two orgasms, you don’t know if you can take another one. But San’s not stopping, licking greedily into you like he’s never eaten a meal before in his life.

“You taste so good,” he groans, vibrations making you moan as your legs shake from the overstimulation. The only reason you haven’t fallen to the ground yet is San’s hands holding you up. His tongue presses into your folds and one of his hands lifts from your ass. You’re about to complain when a harsh pain shoots through you and you whimper as he spanks you again for good measure.

“San!” You gasp again, looking back to see San meeting your eyes with a wicked grin as he bites at your thigh. “Fuck–”

“Come for me, silly girl,” San rumbles again and you close your eyes as you let your body weight drop, San’s grip still on your waist as he mouths at your pussy just as desperately as he was teasing you about. You’re pretty sure your underwear is ruined now, but that hardly seems important with San pushing his come and your release back into you with his tongue.

“Shit, ah, too much, Sannie,” you whine, feeling finally coming back to your legs although they still feel a bit like jelly. “Come on, you still gotta eat lunch, you big idiot.”

With a sigh, San stands, helping you up as well. His mouth and chin are shining and you laugh to yourself as you pull him to you so you can kiss him. The taste of both you and him as you sighing. “I’ll see you at home,” San hums, his voice dazed as if he just went to another dimension and back.

“Mmh, yup. It’ll be a pot roast tonight. Don’t stay out too late and,” you cast a glance at his untouched lunch, “you’ll probably have to reheat that.”

San chuckles, wiping his chin with his hand and licking off the last bits of come. “Yeah, yeah. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

-

@cultofdionysusnet

[fredwkong]

The Boxers

Sometimes, the perfect life just finds you, bruh.

I used to be a pretty normal guy. Wait, scratch that, I was a total fuckin’ nerd. I spent all my time playin’ video games and readin’ fantasy books and shit. I was getting a degree in computer science, so I spent all my time alone, coding shitty apps and nerding out on Reddit.

I had, like, no sex life, lmao. I was a weedy little Indian geek, bro, you know the type, right? I had negative game. Every weekend, I’d spend all night playing WoW or whatever, then go to bed and fantasise about how many bros I’d get once I was, like, CEO of a multibillion dollar startup.

I guess the universe looked at me one day and said, “Why wait, bro?”

I got back to my dorm one night and these, like, gross boxers were sitting right on my floor. I remember I thought they were totally lame, because they had the Sriracha logo all over them. “Who wears those but nasty frat boys?” I thought to myself. Huhuhu, little did the old me know.

Anyway, these boxers were totally messing up the vibes of my dorm. I used to be such a neat freak, bro. A place for everything, and everything in its place. A smelly, used pair of boxers made my skin crawl. So, obvi, I went to pick them up with two of my slim little fingers and toss them in the trash. I figured it was some kind of gross prank on me.

Once I’d picked ‘em up, I could see exactly how dirty those boxers were. The legs were stiff with layers of musky sweat, the smell wafting off them strong enough to make my eyes water. There were a couple of grease stains on them, like some dude had eaten dinner in just his undies. The crotch was crusty, too. Someone, maybe multiple someones, had cum in these boxers.

I remember wondering why the thought got me hard.

Rather than taking the Sriracha boxers to the trash like I’d planned, I found myself giving them a second sniff, and then a third. Goddamn, they were fuckin’ gross, bro. I thought it was just my disgust making me smell them over and over again. Like I was trying to figure out exactly what had gotten on them.

Before long, I was palming my lil cock through my slacks, holding the boxers close to my face with my other hand. It was, like, a total head rush every time I took another sniff. Like I could feel my brain blanking out as I took more and more of the musky stench into me. Not that I knew that was what was actually happening, huhuhu.

When I stripped off my pants and undies to jerk off better, I suddenly had an awesome idea. I could, like, wear the Sriracha boxers and jerk off in them. My brain was already at least halfway transformed by then, lol. I was definitely no nerd at that point. The idea of wearing another guy’s musky boxers got me so fuckin’ turned on.

I pulled the boxers up my skinny brown legs. They hung on my hip bones, barely able to stay on. I laid down on my bed and felt my rock hard cock through the crusty fabric. It was like I could feel the cum and sweat of everyone who’d ever worn that underwear seeping into my skin as I massaged drops of precum out of my balls.

As I writhed on my sheets, lost in pleasure, my skinny Indian body started to change. It started with my feet, which cracked and stretched as they grew big and thick. They started to sweat, a funky foot musk joining the renewed stench of the Sriracha boxers, which were getting super wet with my precum. It was like the brown leached out of my skin with my musky foot sweat, too, as my big feet got all pale.

The change continued up my bare calves, which got super hairy as the muscles flexed and swelled. My legs lengthened as huge quads and hammies swelled up under my whitening skin. God, said my musk-addled mind, I love leg day. I started to flex and wiggle my bulky thighs, feeling the muscles stimulate my growing prostate.

I let out a high pitched little bitchboy moan as my ass inflated with juicy muscle and fat, but I knew that my voice wouldn’t sound like that for much longer. I’d totally embraced the transformation as my cock and balls filled out the pouch of the boxers. They were no longer, like, loose and shit. My fat ass and big bro cock were stretching the sweaty fabric to its limits, bro!

My chest followed, going from slim to bulky so fast that all the buttons on my nerd shirt hit the ceiling. Sweat instantly started to roll off my furry new pecs, and I ran my soft little hand up and down my thick, firm belly and flexed the solid abs I knew were underneath the fat. More than the boxers and the smell, my body was starting to turn me on, bruh. I was becoming, like, a total frat god.

The curly brown hair that grew in my armpits smelled sooooo good as sweat started to drip off it. I totally buried my little nerd face in my own pits and licked up my sweat as I watched my arms bulk up and get all pale and hairy. It was so hot flexing my bicep and watching it bulk up before my eyes, dude! I felt my hand grow as I tugged my big jock cock in the Sriracha boxers, thickening up and getting some hard-earned weightlifting calluses.

The last thing to change was my head. My moans got deeper, slower, and totally dumb-sounding as my neck thickened. A thick brown beard grew on my cheeks, framing my cheesy dumb smile perfectly. My nose cracked and grew into a big ol’ sniffer, even more sensitive than my old nose so I can really take in my bros’ musk.

My old black buzzcut grew out into a curly brown mane, totally greasy from all the sweat I soak it with when I work out, huhuhu. As my forehead got all pale and my eyes turned blue, I felt my cock go over the edge, and I came right into the Sriracha boxers. Pump after pump of musky frat bro cream, taking my old self with it to impregnate the boxers with even more fratty juice. As the room filled with the smell of my thick load, I totally passed out.

The next morning, I woke up in an unfamiliar room. I was in a big bed with musky, sweat-stained sheets, a bunch of stale, unwashed gym gear all over the floor. I was still wearing the Sriracha boxers, my cum caked into the stain along with all the other bros’, along with a cap that I turned backwards as I sat up. I pulled on a tank without too many sweat stains on it and went to explore.

Turned out I lived at the Mu Upsilon Sigma frat house now. The whole place smelled like a sweaty armpit, and it was full of musky bros who were more than happy for me to get all up in their smelly pits and cracks.

I wore the Sriracha boxers for a couple days. Honestly, I dunno how long, I usually only change my boxers like once a month, huhuhu. I worked out, jerked off, got drunk, got fucked, and jerked off some more, all while wearing those boxers. Then I left ‘em in some nerd’s dorm as a prank, huhu.

It was so hot to watch the lil Japanese guy get as zonked out on the musky boxers like I had, bro. We hid in his closet and watched while he jerked off and turned into another musky white frat boy like us, then carried him to the MYS house once he passed out.

It’s been a couple weeks since then, and MYS membership has only grown, bruh! Each bro wears the Sriracha boxers for a few days, adds his personal touch to the, like, seasoning, and then we pass ‘em on to another nerd and induct him into frat life! Maybe some night soon, you’ll see these bad boys in your dorm, huhuhu. Life's perfect in the frat, bro!

[ghouljams]

Do you think Fae König would ever indulge in a bit of pred/pray play with his darling? I just see him enjoying a fun chase through the woods

Oh absolutely. It's one of the reasons she won't go out in the woods with him, it almost always ends with her getting mounted on the forest floor. I mean can you imagine how annoying that is?

You're trying to spend a nice day out with König, enjoying the weather as you point out different plants and trees, occasionally a small animal skitters across your path and König's pupils blow wide watching it sniff the air. You turn to snip one little flower from its sprout and suddenly the man is gone. Gone gone. You can't see him anywhere, and it is so goddamn unnerving, but you're not about to wait for him when he can just find you wherever you are.

Of course that's the problem, König will find you wherever you are, and he's more the happy watching you from the trees, stalking close enough to hear you humming you yourself, but never close enough for you to see. He's trying to scare you into running. Trying to make you yelp and squirm and bolt. He grabs you from behind a tree, his claws digging into your hip as he pulls you close, watching you flinch and squirm away from his hold. You swear at him, annoyed with his games, and he lets you go to stumble away. You check the tears in your clothing, look up to glare at him and he's gone. Truly, truly, annoying.

Then he grabs your ankle to trip you, watches you catch yourself on your hands and knees, the forest floor digging into your skin. You're cute when you pout, thinking he can't see it. You start looking around more, start watching your step, watching the trees, his tail flicks excitedly and you turn your head quickly to catch the motion of it in your periphery. Your blood is starting to run hot, anxiety starting to spiderweb across your chest, as you realize how quiet the forest is. Silent in the presence of an apex predator. You feel König's claws ghost over your throat, and turn to yell at him to stop fucking around, but he isn't there. You turn back to your path, your heart hammering in your chest, and König I'd staring you down in all his monstrous glory: his body covered in growth, his face obscured by hair and vine, his fur and spines rustling either the wind his tail whips up. He is huge, and he opens his mouth to let his tongue loll out over the deadly sharp teeth that row his mouth.

You can't do anything but dart back down the path, especially knowing he'll give chase, you have to run. You run so that when he catches you, when he knocks you to the ground and wraps his claws around you, you can feel his cock already throbbing where he slides it between your thighs. It's demeaning the way he has to lift you to be level with his cock, a monster too big to even dream about, solely focused on fucking you like a toy. You can't say you aren't excited by the prospect, that the nervous energy coursing through you doesn't divert south to pool hot between your legs.

He so damn pleased about it. So eager to rut his thick cock against you, showing you exactly how big he is, exactly how he's going to ruin you. Christ he holds you up and the head of his cock bumps against your diaphragm. Your eyes go wide, his claws slipping under the waistband of your pants and slicing a neat line down the back seam.

"There's no way," you choke.

"I will make it fit," König growls, the sharp points of his claws tracing over your cunt, "don't worry."

As if that's what you're worried about.

[headspace-hotel]

My Oenothera biennis at home is covered in caterpillars of white-lined sphinx moth. I've never seen one before! I think the caterpillars hibernate underground over the winter and emerge in spring as their adult moth form?

O. biennis is common evening-primrose. It has such a special place in my heart. It was, I believe, the first rescued plant that bloomed for me—I pulled one from a crack in the pavement on the roadside, not knowing what it was, and carefully took care of it until it had grown too big for its pot, at which point I planted it in the front flower bed.

I remember how amazing it was to watch the plant develop pointed buds that opened into large, bright, delicate flowers that were the most gorgeous shade of glowing pale yellow. It was so unlike the rich, heavy, buttery yellows of dandelions and sunflowers and other yellow flowers I was familiar with—this plant had its own yellow, so gentle yet so luminous, almost fluorescent. Each day, a new set of buds formed and opened, beginning late July and continuing into the final days of September.

At last, the plant reached the end of its bright, showy riot of blossoms, and slowly dried up entirely, leaving an array of partially split open seed pods along the stem. O. biennis is biennial, as the name suggests. It germinates the first year, forms a rosette of leaves close to the ground, then the second year, it bolts—rapidly growing its stem upward—and produces tons and tons of flowers until it is utterly spent. As the plant dries out in death, the seed pods slowly curl open, releasing loads of tiny seeds.

The next spring, a strange miracle occurred: Many O. biennis sprouts came up where the seeds had fallen, but instead of creating a neat little rosette of leaves on the ground, they began bolting immediately.

One particularly enthusiastic sprout was already a foot tall by May, and kept growing and growing, to my perplexment. "You're supposed to be biennial! What are you doing?"

But it couldn't be denied—the plants were all preparing to bloom the same year they'd first sprouted. And bloom they did!

The flower bed by the front door was blazing with color.

I saw how people designated O. biennis as a weed—it wasn't compact like the usual garden plants, it grew tall and sprawling like an expansive candelabra of blossoms. It was strong and enthusiastic in spite of poor conditions. But it was so beautiful, I was in love.

I learned that occasionally, O. biennis growing in harsh conditions with low competition, could evolve to have an annual life cycle. Apparently, all the seeds produced by the founding plant inherited this trait.

Yesterday, I visited home and collected seed pods from the one extraordinarily enthusiastic plant that had captured my attention, the one that bolted in spring and began blooming before all the others. I intend to spread those seeds in the goldenrod fields and whatever neglected place a tough plant might thrive.

I feel that the progeny of my one extraordinary plant might be more competitive in areas that are periodically subjected to mowing and bush-hogging. The plants these seeds give rise to could be better adapted to the novel stresses placed upon them in these disturbed environments.

The weakness of O. biennis is that it spreads its seeds simply by gravity and the action of water washing seeds away. Its genetics, however exceptional, cannot travel far. So I am helping it out a little bit, by identifying a plant that has evolved exceptionally well for the stresses of a roadside environment and spreading its seeds as much as I can.

[cryptidcorners]

Hey! I saw your requests were open! Could we have some cute Mike fluff of taking Abby back to school shopping and struggling to help choose outfits for her? Probably would include being silently discouraged by the prices of the nice clothes but trying to get her something nice anyway? This can either be just Mike and Abby, or include a y/n girlfriend, I’m not picky. Thanks!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: $49.99

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights at Freddy's

= A.N: I'm loving your requests ! This is too cute, had to write it ASAP! Hope you like it.

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: Just a fluffy one-shot of Mike & his girlfriend going "back to school" shopping with Abby !

= Request: "Hey! I saw your requests were open! Could we have some cute Mike fluff of taking Abby back to school shopping and struggling to help choose outfits for her? Probably would include being silently discouraged by the prices of the nice clothes but trying to get her something nice anyway? This can either be just Mike and Abby, or include a y/n girlfriend, I'm not picky. Thanks!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Slice of Life, Sweet Talk + Moments, Abby being Adorable, Back to School Shopping, Established Relationship, Some Comfort, Romantic, Found Family + Reader is !Fem

= Warnings: Slight Doubt + Worry from Mike, but it's Subtle !

= Please read my INTRO before interacting !

"How about this one?" Abby pointed, eyes fixed on a colorful binder paired up with a neat pack of coloring supplies. Before Mike could open his mouth, she was already tailing it forward. An exhausted breath left his lips instead, but he couldn't help but chuckle softly at her enthusiasm. He missed when he was that way. It brought him closure to see Abby running around all excited, and he was going to nurture it as much as he could.

Mike gasped quietly when you lightly nudged his shoulder playfully. "Earth to Michael," you joked. Mike eased, folding his arms and shyly looking away. "Sorry, just thinking." Mike's eyes promptly shifted towards Abby, who was stirring about like she was in a candy store. Your voice softened, "About her?"

"Yeah. It's just nice to see her so happy. Especially after, well," he trailed off. "I'm just glad she's doing okay."

You caressed his face with a smile, and he quickly placed a hand on yours, obviously savoring the moment. His eyes closed in comfort.

"Mike, can I get this?" Abby asked. His eyes flickered open. "Oh?" He lowered himself down to get to her level. Something you had always found cute.

She extended her hand on a sparkly-colorful outfit, its lower half dragging against the floor. Mike hummed and pulled out the tag, and frowned. Which caught into you as well.

"Mike?"

"Hey, how about you keep looking for some more supplies. That way, when I get the cart, we can just pile everything up and get out of here quicker." He continued, "And you'll be able to use your color pencils quicker too."

Abby smiled, "Really?" Mike nodded quietly and ruffled her hair a bit. She turned back and disappeared down the aisle. Mike's eyes were following her the entire way, he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

Mike stood up, face low with defeat. "Nearly fifty bucks. I don't think I can afford it, but-"

You finished, "You don't want to tell her?" And he nodded.

"Look, I can put in a few bucks, Mike. I shouldn't let you pay for everything." You told him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Mike weakly protested, "I can't let you do that. You've done so much, I don't want to take your money."

"Mike, I want to. I love the kid, and you've been working hard." You kissed his cheek lightly. Which made him bashful in record pace, "Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

Once Abby returned, you had decided to spend more of what you intended. As much as Mike protested, you insisted that it was all for Abby. Besides, it brought him incredible joy to see Abby trying on new sweaters and accessories she adored. That was convincing enough to let you gather a few more pieces of her new wardrobe and leave the store with a heartfelt attitude.

Abby had been holding your hand the whole time. She was definitely giddy, but she was quiet too. Which brought Mike to gently remind her, "Don't you have something to say, Abbs?"

"Oh, right! Thank you so, so, so much!" Abby said childishly. "I'm going to try all of these when I get home. My friends will love this."

"I'm sure they will." You replied with a grin. Which made you turn to Mike with a softened expression, silently mouthing an: "I love you" before driving home to spend time with Abby one last time before her new year of school.

[chaethewriter]

bf does my makeup q&a

Jack Champion x content creator!reader

In which you record a Youtube video with your boyfriend, the one and only Jack Champion.

word count: 2,3k

Warning: fluff, lots of fluff that it's cringey, this took me 5 days to write bruh I'm lacking

tagged: @viivvriv @genesis4545 @norrisgf @darkcrusadestrawberry @drxwstxrkxy @wafflehousewrold

"Camera, set!" You put your camera on its stand as you flipped the screen around, pointing towards the front for you to see. Jack appeared on the screen as you did so, sitting on the couch in your room as in front of him stood a table with your two makeup bags and a mirror. You pressed record when everything was clear on screen— centered and not lopsided. You took a step back as you watched yourself on screen, thus making him immediately grab you by the waist, putting you down on his lap. He held you tightly against him, his arms caging you from behind, "Mmm, can't you start the intro now?" His face buried in your hair as he spoke, satisfied with the position they were in. But you had different ideas, as you abruptly got off his lap and took a seat next to him, your legs thrown over his lap, "you can't do my makeup when I'm on your lap, pookie." You booped his nose with your nail as the words left your lips. As a response, he groaned as he sat back, resting his back against the soft material of your coach, his hands behind his neck as he watched you through his eyelids. You took your phone out and clicked on the Instagram icon for today's video.

"Hello, pookies! Welcome back to the channel. Today is a very special video as I'm joined by my sweet Jack!" You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him close to you, your cheeks pressed against one another. He brought his arms down, wrapping one around your waist. His gaze settled on your camera as he smiled, "Hi guys!" He greeted your viewers with his other hand raised into the air, doing his familiar greeting sign with his thumb, index, and middle finger. You pulled away from your boyfriend, putting your phone in your lap as you clapped in your hands, "Today! As the title said, Jack here will be doing my makeup as we answer relationship questions you guys have sent me through my story!"

"Follow her insta, by the way! Appearing right here!" Jack is almost a natural, as he did some magician movements with his hands for you to edit your username in. You watched as he did so, making you burst in a fit of giggles, "You're such a natural babe, you should start your own channel."

"What can I say? I'm Jack the Champ!"

"So cringey?" The two of you looked into each other's eyes as you laughed. You clung onto your stomach as Jack clung onto you for dear life. The laughing continued for like five minutes. You really had to cut this out later. "Okay! Okay! So Jack needs to recreate my usual makeup look with the makeup provided while we answer questions. I'm such a kind girlfriend, so I allow him to have a picture of my makeup look on his phone." You explained, pointing at his phone flat on the table with a picture of you opened.

"I just want to announce that I know what my girlfriend looks like and that I already had this picture of her in my gallery as well as hundreds of other pictures I snapped of her!" You rolled your eyes at that statement, a chuckle leaving your lips, "Yeah, yeah! Anyways, let's get started. What do we start with, babe?" You watch as Jack carefully unpacked your makeup bags instead of throwing them upside down. He knew how much you valued your products, and he made sure he was gentle with them. It gave you a warm feeling. He put everything down in a neat order, looking at all the different brushes and products, "so from my acting experience, because you know I'm an actor, they always use the prime thing first? Like to keep your makeup intact?" He looked at you with puppy eyes, asking for approval to his words. You knew you're supposed to not give him any hints, but you couldn't stop yourself from nodding your head. While Jack looked for the 'prime thing', as he said it, you scrolled through the questions you were asked.

"Found it!" The two of you exclaimed at the same time: Jack talking about the primer and you talking about a question. He picked the product up— the glass container filled with a white cream as a lid covered the pump. You smile as he pumped some on the back of his hand and taps it against your skin with his finger, putting both his hands on your cheeks right after and spreading it with his palms. You fell into a fit of giggles as he did so, "Jack!" You exclaimed with your face all squeezed up. Proud of his work, he pulled his palms away and awaited a question from one of the viewers. You brought your phone to your face as you read the first question, "How did the two of you meet? Jack, the honor is to you."

Jack brought his hand to his chin as he pretended to think, thus making you playfully slap his chest, "Don't pretend you don't know, now!"

"Okay okay! We actually met during my Avatar press tour. She was all over me and I thought she was incredibly pretty." He exaggerated what had actually happened and you barely wait to voice this out loud, "That's not how it went! Stop embarrassing me!" Your face heated up as you looked at the camera, "Yes we did meet at his press tour, but I wasn't 'all over him'! I just asked for a picture, posted it, and tagged him in it, and all of a sudden, he was in my DMs. Don't change the story now, mister Champion!"

This time, it was Jack's turn to blush immensely. His secret revealed how he actually made the first move. He recollected himself, before a grin spreaded across his face, "I mean what can I say? I'm a rizzer."

"Oh god, please never say that again."

The two of you laughed as he picked the eyeliner up, "You have a weird way of applying makeup, so this actually comes second. I don't understand why, though?" He uncapped the eyeliner, revealing the inbuild eyeliner brush. "Eyeliner is so hard to do! Like it takes so long cause I want it to be perfect and by the time I am done my foundation isn't correct anymore because of the wiping!" You whined your complaints out, already growing frustrated thinking about the struggle.

Jack put his hand on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, "Sit still, baby. I never did this before so uhm here goes nothing?"

"Don't poke my eyeball, please." You then kept your mouth shut, as if it helped with him doing better. Jack is incredibly delicate with it though— he held your chin with his hand while the eyeliner was in his other staring directly into your eyes as he concentrated on his work. You felt your skin heating up yet again, your grip on the eyeliner tube wet, thanks to your sweaty hands. It doesn't matter how long you're together with him. He never failed to make you feel nervous. He never broke eye contact, not even when he dipped the brush in the eyeliner. His breath fanned against your skin as he leaned in closer, "Are you nervous?"

"Shut up..." Your voice came out softer than expected. Unfortunately, he pulled back to admire his handywork. It's not even, but he is proud either way. "Next question, babe!" He playfully nudged you with a cheeky grin.

"You're so annoying!!" You quickly brought your phone to your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassed state. "But you love me!"

"What attracted you to Jack and vice versa? Definitely his goofy self. I usually don't look at gym guys, but Jack's goofy demeanor and just being himself made me attracted to him, no matter what he does."

"You're so cute!" Jack pulled you closer yet again, basically seating you on one of his as your legs dangled to one side. He faced the camera while his arms held you steady, "What made me attracted to her is definitely her way of texting. You feel her care and love and joy when she texts you. She's so sweet about it too, aren't you?" He faced you again with a cheeky grin, making you blush like crazy, "so annoying!!"

He picked your foundation and concealer off the table in front of you, "These are all too familiar to me, but I can't remember which one goes first?" He looked at you with puppy eyes, hoping to get an answer out of you. This time, you kept your mouth shut as you let him figure it out himself. He pouted at you, putting the concealer down. He uncapped the foundation and looked at the brushes. "Babe, which one? You should help me out, I wanna do good."

You almost give in. Almost. Too bad for Jack though, because you only gave him a cheeky grin. His gaze traveled from your pretty face to the table. There were so many different brushes and sponges. He remembered makeup artists using a big one, but which one? He decided on the latter and took the biggest one in his hand. It needed to spread and cover the entire face, after all, right? He decided to follow his gut and put a few small pumps on the back of his hand. He dipped the fluffy part of the brush against it and pressed it to your face. Like you were a canvas and he was the painter. Your chuckling made him roll his eyes, "stay still! I'm being a professional right now."

"sure you do, babe."

Jack started to feel himself in his role as makeup artist. He didn't wait for you as he immediately got on with the concealer. He tapped the wand under your eyes and on your nose, just like artists do to him. He took a small brush and blended it by tapping it. You watched how the tip of his tongue slips out from in-between his lips, his concentration to the max.

Even though your boyfriend has adhd, he can for sure keep his focus on you the entire day. "Next question! Ohh I like this one. When did you realize you fell in love with each other?" You tapped your chin as you think about it. You have always loved Jack, but when did that go from celebrity crush to a real crush?

"I have always loved Jack, if I am going to be honest. I started following him since his Avatar announcement, but he turned into a crush from the moment he wanted to switch from Instagram DMs to messages." You explained as you locked your sparkling eyes with him, awaiting for his response.

He took a moment to admire you, a warm feeling bubbling inside his chest since he knew the exact moment that he realized. "When you looked up at my face with those worried eyes that held so much care as you held on my arms. You always did so, but there was a time when it didn't feel friendly anymore. It felt like so much more as my heart sped up."

That was all it took for you to literally take off.

You sprinted out the room, towards the bathroom, in pure disbelief. The disbelief that he had actually decided to answer the question like that. The disbelief that a boy could actually be so true to his feelings.

"baby? Where are you going?" Did he say something wrong?

You stood in the middle of the bathroom with your face in your hands, teary eyed as you smudged your makeup. "babe?" He had followed you to the bathroom. When he heard your sobs, he immediately panicked. His arms wrapped around your figure, his cheek resting against the crown of your head as his hands caressed your back, "did I do something wrong?"

"no you just, you're, you." You didn't know why you were crying. Well, you did know the reasoning, but you didn't know why it made you so emotional.

"You truly love me."

"yes, yes I do. Of course I do. More than anything else." He ran his hands over your back. He knew you had a hard time when it came to romance in general. You had told him and he made sure to take good care of you, until you truly believed him. And that you did. He took such good care of you. And he would continue to do so until his very last breath.

Recording was long forgotten as the two of you bathed in each other's arms.

He was so happy to be yours.

BONUS:

"Ow! This hurts! Baby please stop!" After the makeup video, you had begged Jack to do a skincare routine with you. He had agreed, not knowing it could have been this bad. It was charcoal mask day.

"It's supposed to hurt!"

"Why would you do this to yourself? Ow ow wait!" He extended his arms to keep you away from him. He was much taller than you, so it certainly did the job. "But why! What does it do?"

"it deep cleans your skin, basically. Your face is going to be silky smooth when I kiss your face all over!"

He thought about it for a second. Kisses? Lots of kisses?

"Do I get lots of kisses after you pull it off me?" You nodded as a response. He sighed in defeat as he took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. This was your cue to stand in between his legs, his arms wrapping around you immediately. Your fingers made its way to the pulled bit of his dried mask.

"Fine, you can do it! But I expect a lot of smoo- OH MY FUCK AHHH!"