#touchable fabric

[navybrat817]

Here's Stud

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky's cardigan reminds you of something straight out of a horror film and you have some fun with it.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, silliness, implied sex, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he adores you. Also references to The Shining and my apologies to Stephen King.

A/N: I dedicate this silly Stud and Smartie ficlet to @targaryenvampireslayer for being so awesome. ❤️ @yenzys-lucky-charm , I may have included something from the "spooky" bouquet. 😉 Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky pushed some of his hair back as he got comfortable in his chair. With the gentle rain coming down outside and the chores done for the day, it was the perfect time for him to curl up with a book. Naturally you took a moment to watch him from the kitchen. In your head you were giving him dreamy eyes, but in reality you probably looked like some sort of creep who stared for far too long.

“See something you like, Smartie?” Bucky asked, not looking up from his book as he turned the page. Of course, he felt your eyes on him. “You don’t have to just look. You can touch, too. I don’t mind.”

You rolled your eyes with a giggle. “Oh, I know you want me to touch you, Stud, but you just started reading,” you pointed out. And, really, didn’t you want to touch him, too? He had such a touchable, sexy body. And his hair. So soft, thick, good for pulling. And that beard. Sweet fucking Jesus.

But that cardigan he was wearing…

“So, you do want to touch,” he smirked once you went into the living room, his eyes flickering up to yours. His brows furrowed when he saw your phone in hand. “I guess you want to look and touch?”

“Yeah, we’ll say that,” you said, making sure you were recording. “Looking handsome as ever.”

“And you look as beautiful as ever.” His eyes swept over you, making you weak in the knees and a giggle escape. It would never get old receiving a compliment from him. “Wait, are you snapping a picture or recording a video?”

“Video,” you replied, a happy sigh escaping. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he smiled, tenderness in his eyes and voice. To be on the receiving end of that was something else. Your heart was warm and full.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” you sighed again, clearing your throat to sound a bit more serious. “And now that we’ve established that we very much love each other, please look right here and say you won't chop me up with an axe.”

You remembered the day you went to check out the apartment and Bucky had to assure a loved one that he wasn’t going to murder or do anything to you if you moved in. He took it in stride and promised he’d be nothing but a caring and respectful roommate. But now a horrified look crossed his face, which nearly made your heart burst. He didn’t like you experiencing any sort of pain, even hypothetical or unrealistic. “What the… Of course, I’m not going to chop you up with an axe! I would never! Where is that even coming from?”

“Are… Are you serious? Did you not notice the pattern on the cardigan?” You turned the camera to face you for a second before you focused it back on him. “Under normal circumstances, I’m very much aware you would never do a thing like that, but today you look like you jumped out of a horror film. You know the one I’m talking about.”

He tugged a bit at the fabric, realization filling his eyes after he took another look at it. “You just said I look as handsome as ever!”

He's so cute.

“And you do. You look good in anything and everything, carpet patterns included, but I’m half expecting you to go, ‘Hello, Smartie! Come and play with me!’” He laughed when your voice changed. “‘Come and play with me, Smartie! Forever and ever and ever…’”

He laughed harder. Yeah, you were a dork at times, but you were his dork and he enjoyed your humor. “But I do want you to play with me forever and ever and ever.”

“I will happily play with you, but if you say we’re checking into a secluded hotel in the mountains soon, you better cancel the reservation and demand a refund.” You smiled at the ridiculousness of this, but silly moments meant the world. “And don’t even think about that as a honeymoon destination. No way.”

“Oh, we both know I can be a little bit more creative than that,” he said, closing his book.

“Hold on, where are you going?” You called after him when he got up and left the room.

“You’ll see,” he said over his shoulder, heading toward your bedroom.

You followed him a bit, still recording and very much curious as to what he was doing. “Should I be scared or horny? Or both? That’s a thing, right?” A small pout formed on your face when he didn’t answer you. Did you hurt his feelings? That was the last thing you wanted to do. “Hey. I’m sorry. It’s still a nice cardigan and it isn’t your fault that-”

“Heeeeeeeeeere’s Stud!”

You nearly dropped your phone when Bucky popped his head out from your bedroom door with a wild look on his face and his hair disheveled. He looked unhinged, which made your heart pound. But when he held up his hand to show you what he was holding, you almost burst out laughing. “Oh, my God! That’s my vibrator!”

His eyebrows wiggled up and down. “It sure is, Smartie. Darling. Light of my life.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you smiled. And you adored him.

“Look, I’m not chopping you up with an axe, I’m not a total psycho. But I don’t mind using this weapon on you.” He twirled it around in his hand with ease. How the hell did he do that? “Though if I am going to murder your pussy, it’s going to be with my cock and not some toy.”

You shrieked when he smirked that filthy, gorgeous smirk of his, your face hot and tingling between your thighs. He said it so casually, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t go back to his book for the rest of the day. He’d drag you to bed and try to “kill” you with his cock. “Have I created some sort of monster or are you possessed by some… pussy murdering spirit because of the sweater?” Your breath caught in your throat as he fully opened the door and advanced on you, making you step back. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“What am I doing? No, it’s we. And we are going to make our own version of The Shining.” He slowly ran his tongue along his lips as his eyes drifted down your body. “You getting that shine all over my face, fingers, and cock.”

“Holy shit,” you gasped. Yeah, you could get on board with that. You could very much get on board with that. “Okay, but maybe I should stop recording for this next part?”

“Actually, you should keep recording. More camera sex makes Stud a happy boy.” Your eyebrows shot up as he smirked and got closer, close enough for you to inhale his cologne and make your knees weak all over again. “What do you say?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

“I take it back. I haven’t created a monster. I think I’ve summoned a demon,” you teased.

“There’s always a price to pay when a demon is summoned. Time to pay up,” he smiled, his lips meeting yours in a dizzying kiss.

And for the rest of the day and well into the evening, Bucky was very happy indeed.

I can't help it, lovelies. I will adore them forever. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kuntprodukt]

I NEED YOU (I BREATHE YOU) PT.2

prev. chapter | Dante Sparda x reader | 18+ MDNI. SMUT, female reader, sugar baby&sugar mommy dynamics, age gap(reader is in her 20s), vaginal sex, unsafe sex, creampie, teasing, handjob, mirror sex, lingerie, public sex, light feminization.

Summary: The dress sits on your figure so well, little creases on your waist as the fabric wrinkles up in a seated position. Yesterday he fought demons for the mission. And tonight you will go out.

notes: thank you for my girl for proofreading this one @writingwisterias. So yeaaa...i had already this in my mind after finishing the first one, idk if there would be more after that. Reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of interractions are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

Pop! Your lips purse out briefly, sending an invisible kiss to your own reflection, this lipstick suits you. Dante stands next to you. He is no expert in makeup, but anytime he watches you or Trish it looks like some sort of weird magic - impossible to master, weirdly enough. It makes sense, after all he is specialised in killing demons and master in every touchable weapon. Makeup isn't a weapon, at least he isn't aware of its body count if it exists. The dress sits on your figure so well, little creases on your waist as the fabric wrinkles up in a seated position. Closer to you, on the floor there is a kraft bag with something. Dante doesn’t give too much thought into that, tired and it would be useless to pry into your business. Yesterday he fought demons for the mission. And tonight you will go out. Nice and clean.

A clap - your attention shifts to his face. You raised an eyebrow, clearly confused why he even did that. And he stays silent with pursed lips. Oops, embarrassing. Old man habits, they don't die but roots grow deeper after every birthday -  the ones you seem to get off sometimes. He hopes, watching you turn away again.

“Ready?” His fingers squeeze your cheeks in the mirror, your reflection frowns - light crease in between your brows as they come closer. Like a displeased cat. 

“You’ll ruin my look,” Your hand slaps his ones away, coaxing a chuckle out of him. “...stop” 

“Can't ruin something already perfect.” Dante coos, before his gaze falls down to your cleavage. Deep cut. Pretty. He spotted a little reddish nonlinear spot, like a nebula on the visible soft side of your boob, close to sternum. A pride fills his chest - his job, even though he didn’t intend to leave a hickey. He wants to knead your chest again, to feel its weight filling his palm. Hey, old man, dirty thoughts down - tonight is all about spoiling and enjoying each other's companionship.  

You exhale, there is no answer or “thanks”. Anyone else would think you are a little spoiled daddy bitch. Just a sigh. Your chest falls down with the air out. Not looking at his reflection, avoiding his eyes and pretending this didn’t flatter you. With all that time with you, he knows well your subtle changes in expressions - a deep exhale, avoidance but a hint of curled up lips are enough to tell him your thoughts. Brief, subtle details matter so much. You like him too much for a sugar mommy, too much than you supposed to. Sometimes for him this isn't only about money. 

“Babyyy!!” Your sweet voice. Baby, god, b-a-b-y. Again, weak in his knees - he'd fall on them just to eat you out if he had an appropriate moment. He hums softly, probably looking like a puppy - all his attention on your open palm.

“I bought something, but it doesn’t look good on me…” Dante raises his eyebrow, questioning your words silently. Bullshit, you look perfect in everything. And you don't seem to be in need of Lasik. 

“Impossible.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. Existence of Atlantis is much more believable right now. 

Your hand delves to the paper bag just to appear with a lacy lingerie in your hold, dark violet fabric, soft to touch and elegant curves of half transparent material would not shy to hint your nipples through it, the straps would sit on your waist leading his gaze to the underwear, the garment would hug your waist and hips so right, while bra would gently hold your tits - a Victoria's Secret model would die green out of envy. You are up to something.

“It’s so big for me…” You coo and Dante knows you are lying shamelessly. ”Dumb me didn’t try it before buying” 

“So?” 

You hum, tilting your head and nodding to point lingerie to Dante. “I think it’d look so good on you…”

His lips form a thin line, tensing after your words and eyeing you with that fabric in front of him. Conflicted, confused and half-hard. Should he deny your fun? Actually… no. First of all, he isn't insecure of his own masculinity, a lingerie and make up wouldn't make him a less man - to see you lit up is worth it too. Second point is… You give him money, buy him stuff for simple things; make you less lonely and entertain you sexually, he’d be damned to ruin your fun. And his. Dante takes lingerie in his hold, silently looking at your face to see the sparkle in your eyes - you are happy and grateful. This is enough for him. 

It is tight. He doesn't understand how, but he was able to put it on him without ripping and ruining the expensive fabric. It stays tight on his chest, the soft dark violet curves of lace press against the hard muscular skin. Squishing slightly his nipples. The horizontal strap sits on his waist, hugging his curves like it belongs here and forcing his mind to wonder with many doubts. Is his waist so narrow? Or did you just somehow measure his parameters? Appearing to your eyes in it, engulfing in the glimpse of admiration in them and you almost jump to your feet with a mascara tube in your hand. Again. Dante doesn't question, leaning to you so you’d be more comfortable to apply the black mascara to his white lashes. It emphasizes his bluish eyes. 

Ready to go. Finally.

This hits harder when you are close to get inside just to sit in the passenger seat. He stops you, no way. There are many raunchy magazines in his car, forgetting to hide them. And the lingerie is so tight against his chest, etching into his skin like thorns right now. Of course you stand next to his car - no way Dante lets you in when his car is full of his dumb and guilty pleasure - he quickly hides them under the seat before giving a nod. The road is clean and a pretty thing can get inside without him disappointing you. Dante isn't even sure if you care about that, but he is a 43 years old man still jerking off to women in those magazines - a sign of loser and if he may differ, he is not. 

Your eyes dart to his hands on the wheel. Fingerless gloves. Dante always wears gloves, he has probably an entire collection of them too. Something he didn't realize, but you did. Gifting every now and then new pairs, unfortunately your sweet intention was a failure, not to admit that those are not to his taste - they cover his finger tips. Too elegant. Formal. Fingerless gloves are the way, probably not for you, unaware how suitable they are for every situation in life. And he needs to be ready. Of course, they provide warmth for his palms, but that isn't the point of them - the most important part is that they keep his fingers ready for action. Perfect for situations where precise handling is required, such as playing with your nipples. He needs to feel them stiffen in between his fingertips as they’d roll while applying perfect pressure on the sensitive nubs. 

The road was quick or maybe Dante was trying too hard to ignore the tightness of the lingerie, weirdly enough it creates new sensations, his cock grazes on the fabric, making it harder - the same happens with his nipples. This is pleasant and shivering friction, he wishes this evening ends quicker just to fuck you into the mattress of your bed. Or of your daddy. That man probably doesn't care how you spend the money he gives you. Car stays still in the parking lot as the light of the restaurant hints at the liveliness of the place. It plays on your faces, loud voices sometimes reach you just to end up muffled by the car. His palms slap his thighs as a gesture “i'm ready to go”.

“Wait! I forgot about this” you mutter, rummaging your bag before pulling out a rose elliptical shaped object. A sex toy, a small vibrator. “Unbutton your pants.”

He raises his eyebrow before you add. “Pretty please, baby?”

With a heavy sigh, Dante does as you asked - after all, so polite and with his favorite pet name. God, he needs to finger your pussy while his lips would suck on your clit on the backseat. And with lipstick? Hell, this would be even sweeter, dirtier, the sight of red marks on your pussy would be close to an art piece. His cock twitches, half-hard glistening with precum that has been leaking all this road and tainting the fabric, inviting you to lick them away.. It throbs harder as the colder, hard surface of the toy joins, the lingerie helps it to press against the tip - holding there. Anything after leaving the car feels surreal, not so important due to the steady vibrations against his cockhead.

If someone gave him the potion of truth right now and asked what you have been talking about all this evening - he’d ask them to shoot him because he has no idea. Zero thoughts, the most perfect one too. All his focus was not on the melting food on his tongue, unfortunately neither on your cleavage nor the prices on the menu, or how people were eyeing you both. Right now, he is at the edge of cumming in his pants like a schoolboy after kissing a girl for the first time. His cock keeps leaking the precum, shifting his position just to accommodate the boner straining against the lacy lingerie underneath his pants. Not sure, still in the best case scenario his jeans would have a clear small spot. Lingerie’s straps etch into his chest tightly, there would be left red marks after that with sensitive nipples, while vibrator keeps the buzzing sensation in his body, sometimes to play with him you’d set the intensity higher just to see him try to compose himself. That sex toy can be damned, he is a 43 years old man. The first wet dream he had was years and years ago, now he feels like a young man with sperm in his brain; sensitive to every hint of breeze, to every change in your gaze and to his own movement. 

You are supposed to pay for him, which you did multiple times and today is no exception. Financial field isn't his forte, but Dante can spoil you differently. And you don't seem to mind this, you like this. So it is a jackpot.Those are your relationship with him - comfy for him, gambling isn't his best  so debts with Lady won't pay themselves. Standing there, not focused on anything other than dumb lingerie etching in his skin with additional vibrations against his tip. Dante should be given an award for enduring all this. Your palm curls on the crook of his elbow just to pull him to some hall. Before that he heard you asking something, - too unfocused to listen to you or noticing weird glances from waitresses. Whatever. You push him into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Click!

The room is a single user one, clean and gives all the necessary privacy to the client better than Devil May Cry has, that one can’t even provide the light or flush the water, thank god your money keeps rent paid. Still, not comparable to the bar ones he has been to. They aren't as clean as this one, no luxuries but only yellowish lighting and sticky floor with someone throwing up loudly in one of the stalls. Some men can't even aim right. Nor do they have the wide mirror, like this was made with the idea for mirror sex. Maybe he is overthinking this, his thoughts are not always messed up with you but tonight there is no way not to think about you. You, oh, his mind generates the sight of you in different scenarios like a rapid flash; your twisted with pleasure face, your perfectly manicured nails, the eye guiding curve of your waist to your hips and your drenched cunt, puffy lips after a long session playing with it. All this, while his eyes messily drift on you, standing in front of him and leaning back. Palms hold the edge of the cold, wide flat surface - using sink as a leverage. 

Dante leans in, lost in the desire to finally, for god’s sake kiss you but the moment ends up ruined - you tilt your head away, not giving what he needs again. 

“A kiss? Mmm…” You hum. Your hand creeps to the button of his jeans and he sighs. Anticipating the freedom from the tightness. “Today my kisses ARE expensive” 

The fly is unzipped and unbuttoned, you can see what a mess he has been making all this time; lingerie is already drenched while the toy feels sticky under your fingertips. His cock bobs to his hip, twitching in the air with many beads of pre-cum rolling down from his aching tip just begging for any kind of attention. Who are you to deny it? Eventually your hand goes in contact, and it twitches in your fist, gripping his leaking cock, painfully hard and the small vibrator is finally far away from him. He didn't notice how it got placed on the sink, a rose object tainted with traces of his precum. Your face feigns sadness, like you are disappointed to end up without kisses too. Batting your eyelashes, like butterflies’ wings. Messing with him. 

“This lipstick cost a looot…”

“A lot?” Dante muses, your hand begins slowly pumping his cock, gripping tightly while making those sweet, steady movements - up and down. He swallows down a moan. Like a thirsty man in front of a cup of water, Adam’s apple bobs as his throat feels drier than it has ever been. His eyes jump to your thighs. Warm, soft and homely - he can imagine his head in between them. 

“50 bucks.” 

“Do I look like I give a damn?” His hand creeps up to hold your jaw and leans in to pepper your cheek with kisses, leaving a heavy hot red marks as the pace becomes messier, brushing the angle of your jaw and his eyes are full with the burning need to fuck you finally. This is too much. “Spoiler, I don't. Lipstick be damned.”

You giggle as he pushes your legs apart, spreading them wider to settle in between them easily. His hips buck into your hand and you know damn well what he needs right now. It is all written on his face, with the needy glimpse in his blueish eyes as his chest rises up and down heavily. His hands travel lower, to pull the skirt of your dress higher exposing your clothed pussy. His fingers curl underneath the fabric, pulling it aside to get the glimpse of it. It glistens with your slick, strings of it clinging to the folds and begging him to drop down just to swirl his tongue or to suck on your clit. He doesn't think there is too much time to do it nor is there any intention to do that. 

With a low grunt coming from his lips, his hips messily press against your, bucking up as his cock press in between your folds - this is enough to coax out a moan, your warm wetness engulfs so softly as he grinds against your pussy in a erratic pace. Bumping your clit with his hard leaking tip, before it gets impossible to endure. He needs to be inside you. Your pussy. His tip nestles in your hole briefly, like something to heighten his need to fuck you, before slipping it inside in a slow thrust. Feeling your walls stretch across his cock as it gets deeper, clenching down on him in a tight grip engulfing him more into your warmth, as the curve of his cock presses sweetly against the spongy spot forcing your back to arch into him. Your pussy makes him dizzy, breathless even so much that Dante needs to take a pause, pulling his cock out - not entirely, leaving his tip inside you. He wants to move it in and out, over and over until all he could hear would be wet and filthy noises as your pussy would gush harder around him. Just to edge himself while a poor soul may knock on the door, but seeing your hips buck into his, trying to get his cock back inside his mind refuses to torment you. At least for tonight. His cock gets buried inside you again, dragging it back and forth, trying to keep the pace steady and his balls hit your ass after every hard slam. 

Your reflections sparkle behind you, your head rolls back and is so well visible in the mirror. His cock throbs in your pussy, leaning in to pepper your neck with the kisses, in between softly biting on the skin before his tongue laps on the reddish mark, licking away the pain. All while his gaze didn't try to drift away from your figures there. Like a porn movie without a recording - this one would hit so much differently, there would be you and it is better than any professional plastic bimbo out there. His hips rut against you roughly slowly becoming messier, all he can focus on right now is the flesh-hitting sounds mixing with wet ones too. Dante doesn't care anymore, his balls tighten with every hard slam. And your shameful moans coming from your lips, trying to keep it low. Your tits bounce with every particularly hard thrust while your pussy clenches harder in a silent plea to fill it, not only with his cock, but cum too. 

Dante is a simple man, even your silent wish is a command which he will be happy to obey.

Two and more bites on your throat, before a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. Your body shudders eventually too, as your walls spasm harder around him with the crushing wave of orgasm hitting you both, pleasant shockwaves dumb every thought in the head. His cock throbbed, finally spurting ropes of cum into you. The warm cum fills your pussy almost to the brim, and his mind is blank - there is a bliss written all over his face, his lips are parted. It is exhausting, flesh-hitting sounds are not heard anymore, replacing them with heavy panting. Trying to recover faster than you usually do.

It was quick, but you came too. Still, feeling like a dumb puppy that has done something wrong, he wants to apologize. For what? For cumming inside you so fast, but a quicker kiss on his lips dissipates that torment. Dante’s eyes dart around the walls, the corners of them just to check if there are any possible cameras. He rushed in again, shamelessly fucking you in some restaurant’s bathroom - what if it is recorded now? God, some lucky bastard would be jerking off of your moans and pretty face. You notice his frown, brushing your hand over his chest while looking at him through your eyelashes.

“There are no cameras, babe,” Your words calm the tempest that was forming in his chest. “it’d be illegal to install them in a bathroom.” Who is he to question your words anyway? With relief, he stretches his body even slightly. A loud rip can be heard and with it the tightness around his chest is gone too. Oops. You are much stronger than him to endure uncomfortable clothing for hours with layers of makeup. He prefers his women without it anyway.

[spirtualitywithlumi]

💌 Jungkook's Future Spouse: What She Looks Like + What Drives Him Wild

✦ by Lumi, your fave tarot it-girl 💅✨

Tarot Deck Used: A traditional Rider-Waite-Smith

✦ TAROT SPREAD

🌷 Her Physical Appearance & Aura

Her appearance radiates the kind of beauty that is soft. She’s not flashy, but the more you look, the more you feel. The energy of the cards points to a natural, earthy, ethereal charm, a look that is delicate yet grounded, pure yet magnetic, soft yet unforgettable.

Ace of Cups — This card rules over pure, emotional, feminine energy. Her face has an almost timeless delicacy, not necessarily in a fragile way, but in a romantic, watery softness. Her eyes are big, emotional, filled with light and warmth. Her eyes hold depth like she’s lived lifetimes through them. Her lips are soft, pouty, or uniquely shaped. When she smiles, there’s a melting sweetness, the kind that sticks in your mind for hours. Her skin is radiant. May have a natural glow or a kind of “baby skin” softness. Possibly prone to blushing, which only adds to her ethereal charm.She may be someone who cries easily, but beautifully. Her face shows her emotions, and that’s what draws Jungkook in first.

King of Pentacles — This card suggests she has earth goddess energy, a softly curvaceous, grounded, luxurious-looking figure. Think comfort and sensuality over glamour. Her Body has Fuller hips, soft waist, graceful proportions. Not necessarily tall, and what matters is that she’s got a natural rhythm in how she moves. Her Hair is thick, rich texture maybe long and always effortlessly tied up. Her hair looks touchable. Jungkook may often reach out to run his fingers through it without thinking. She wears neutral colors, flowing fabrics, or traditional silhouettes. Even in a hoodie, she looks expensive. He loves how she makes the plainest things look sensual. She doesn’t flaunt herself, but her body speaks not loudly, but intimately. It’s not “perfect” by media standards. But to him, it’s unmatched. It’s hers. And that’s what makes it sacred.

The Hanged Man — There’s something about her that’s not typical. In fact, she might not be considered traditionally attractive by every set of eyes. But to Jungkook she’s hypnotic. She may have asymmetrical features a quirky smile or a nose, one eye slightly bigger than the other, but all of it blends into something strangely mesmerizing.There’s a spiritual, otherworldly silence about her. She might pause before she speaks, and people listen when she finally does.

Page of Pentacles (x2) — This card coming up twice emphasizes that she has a fresh, unbothered, natural look. Not “girl-next-door” vibe, but in an intimate, grounding way. Like someone who doesn’t need to try. Her body language is a little shy, observant. She stands with her arms folded, one foot slightly behind the other. She may tilt her head when listening. Her beauty is like a handwritten love letter. Like the smell of rain. Like fresh sheets and warm hands. She often goes bare-faced or natural. May wear her hair in braids, buns, or loose. Jungkook is obsessed with the way she looks when she just wakes up. She may look younger than her age, and her beauty doesn’t fade.

The World — This is the most powerful card for full-body beauty. It says: she is complete. Her proportions are in harmony with her energy. She doesn’t hide her body. Her movements have grace, like water flowing through a vase. She might not even realize how erotic she looks just walking across a room. She radiates wholeness and that’s what sets her apart from everyone else Jungkook has ever met.

❤️‍🔥 What Jungkook Finds Physically Irresistible

✨ Her Eyes

Jungkook falls for her eyes first. There’s something about how they hold sorrow and softness at the same time. They sparkle when she laughs. He once told her, “When you look at me like that, I forget what I was mad about.”

✨Her Bare Face

He finds her most beautiful when no one else is watching. When she’s brushing her teeth, when she’s got under-eye patches on and messy hair, when she’s curled up in his sweatshirt, scrolling silently beside him. That kind of closeness drives him absolutely crazy.

✨Her Back & Neck

The Hanged Man energy tells us he’s obsessed with parts of her that others overlook. The way her neck curves into her shoulder when she ties her hair up,the gentle arch of her back when she leans over the sink and the dip of her collarbone when she wears something off-shoulder. He could watch her stretch and yawn all day.

✨Her Stillness

When she’s calm, just sitting beside him reading, her chest rising slowly. He’s used to movement, loudness, chaos, but with her, he finds peace erotic. Even the way she closes her eyes for a second to rest is sacred to him.

✨Her Hands

Page of Pentacles energy points to hands that are always doing something gentle like gardening, journaling, cooking, sketching.Jungkook loves how her hands look wrapped around a warm mug, or tangled in bedsheets, or fixing his collar.He once told her, “Your hands make everything feel like home.”

💭

It’s late. She’s in the kitchen, back turned to him, hair messy, sleeves rolled up. He leans against the wall and just… watches. She doesn’t know he’s there. She’s humming. Stirring something. The hem of his T-shirt grazes her thighs. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t need to. He just stands there, overcome by the ache of loving her. And he thinks: “This woman will ruin me. In the softest way possible.”

this is what she reminds me of:

✦ do you want a personal reading like this?

🌸 I offer:

Celebrity Tarot Reads (K-Pop, BTS, Actors) SP Manifestation Guidance Future Love + Shadow Work Spreads Moon-Coded Letter from Your Twin Flame Channeled Audio Readings + PDF Summaries ✧ First reading? Ask for a free pull!

—

📩 DMs Open: @xuexing-lumi Tumblr inbox

🖤 closing words from Lumi:

We ride or die, even through the mess. 💅 — Lumi, the Moon’s Bride 🌕💋

—

(ignore):

[the-moons-tears]

Scaramouche x reader (Spiderman au)

GUYS GUYS SPIDER-MAN SCARA BRAINROT EIFJEJDCKKEFM gods i CANT

Hot emo spider boy grrr

Not very spicy (a bit at the end) this is pretty much just a plot that I enjoyed writing about

Preview:

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind."

Blues, greens, whites, and reds zoomed by the eye coverings on your mask. Noises from the city and its traffic flared up in your ears and ended as soon as they came. The sharp wind whipping your hair around, and the feeling of your suit moving with your body made you feel alive.

Your hands moved methodically in a pull up, release, and shoot cycle. The strong webbing that was naturally formed in your body shot out through a tiny slit in your wrist, and the cut in your suit fabric made it easy to shoot out of.

The ground seemed so far away every time you launched yourself up into the night air, but became almost touchable when you let gravity take you back down. Your lungs took in large amounts of air and released heavily through the mask fabric.

When you arrived at a certain large skyscraper, you began your ascent. The webbing that flew out hit the glass panels which you used to propel you upwards. The noises from the city below grew quieter as you neared the top roof with the internet tower sitting in the middle.

Your hand grasped the edge of the building and used your upward force to swing over the ledge onto the roof surface. Standing upright, the wind hit you and blew your hair away from your face showing you the view that you never got tired of. The city looked so small from there. Leaning over where you just came from, this was definitely the tallest building in your city.

Planes overhead made their presence known by the blinking lights that were flashing from their bodies. Above them lay the stars, although you couldn't see them because of the light pollution. The silence, even though so many things were happening, was always strange. It just showed how high up you were. The wind was your only company with its occasional howl coming from any direction.

Although, your solitude didn't last long. A cold sensation ran down your spine and an instinctual alert inside your mind told you something was coming. A figure, black as the night above came so fast at you, you didn't have time to react.

In a tangle of arms and at the speed of the impact, you and the figure crashed into the part of the roof that led to stairs to the floors below. A loud grunt came from the figure beside you when their head hit the wall.

Your own body had slammed into the stone pretty hard. Obviously it was much worse for you since the impact sent you into the wall first. A strangled gasp for air escaped your lungs after it had been knocked out and you fell to your side with your vision spinning. Rough hands turned you over, ripped off your mask from your face, and grabbed you over your mouth. The other hand held your shoulder to the ground.

Above you, the figure, who you figured was a male, was breathing hard. The hand over your mouth gripped hard, and your attempts to speak failed. In your panic, you shot webbing onto his face with your free hand and kicked him back once you got a leg up from underneath him.

Immediately once you had enough free space, you made a dash for the edge so you could jump off. Alarms went off in your mind again, making you duck in time to see a web shooting overhead at what would have been your neck. The next one, however, you couldn't dodge in time.

White webbing caught your ribs and pulled you to the man again. Before you could blink, you were wrapped in web that was holding you in all directions. You couldn't move, and your mask that protected your identity lay away from you on the ground. When you finally were still, you could see clearly who he was.

Short violet hair moved in the wind revealing a black mask with purple and blue iridescent web looking designs interlacing it. The body suit also had the same design. The person's mask ended at their hairline, letting the bangs that were there fall over it. Everyone had seen him, he was quite famous although no one knew his real identity. The savior of teyvat city, spiderman.

He ran a hand through his hair rubbing the spot that hit the wall and let out a long sigh. "I really wanted an easy night tonight..." the man ran his hands down his face and walked toward you. Without gentleness, he grabbed you face again and tilted it how he pleased.

"What the hell-do you always treat people this way?"

"Well most people I come across that have any sort of power aren't exactly wishing the city a merry Christmas."

Fair. From what you had seen, every time he made an appearance was when a supernatural threat was in the city, like that one battle with a giant lizard you saw on YouTube. You'd seen what he was capable of, and that he probably didn't have any intention other than protecting the city, so you decided to be compliant.

For a bit, he was silent. He brought a hand up that had your webbing that was on his face on it, and his silver eyes on his mask narrowed.

"I watched you swing up here from a distance before attacking you. You shot this from your wrist."

"Yeah, I'm guessing you want a backstory?"

"Normally I wouldn't care, but your web is the same make as mine. It's not coincidental." He then waved his hand for you to speak.

You simplified the story as needed in your head, and begin to tell about your spider experience.

...

You were in college enjoying your student life when it happened. With your university being so close to ILDOTTORE Inc., a lot of students came to study in the sciences, you being one of them.

In one of your leisurely afternoons at the campus park, you were sitting on a bench just looking at the wind blow through the trees when you felt a sharp pain on your hand. The pain continued to spike when you pulled your hand up and shook it. Looking at your palm, sitting there was an iridescent spider that had its fangs lodged in your skin.

It looked abnormal for sure. Its eyes were bigger and it's legs were longer. A strange symbol was marked on its back, almost like an experimental number you would put on test subjects. Without a thought you immediately slapped the spider.

When it didn't come off the first hit, you took off your shoe and pressed it to your hand, not caring about the dirt because the bite hurt. When you got the spider off your hand, you relaxed thinking you'd definitely killed it.

Feeling something moving on your thigh, you looked down and jumped from your sitting position with your hand swatting at your thigh. The spider, with one less leg now, was crawling up your leg until you swat it off.

"Oh hell no, die hoe." You took the shoe that was still off and put it quickly back on your foot. As the spider was speeding away, you chased it a couple of steps from the bench and stomped on it like you'd never put your foot on the ground before. After twisting your foot back and forth on the spider, you took your shoe off an examined if it was really dead.

It twitched only once even though it was completely crushed, but that was enough to smush it again until you were only looking at a black smudge on the concrete path.

Ever since that day, you had to stay in your apartment with a sick excuse because of the changes your body was undergoing. The pain was blaring. Your hands would stick to things randomly, and your vision would shift from regular to being able to see through walls. You felt feather light, could move faster, and jump higher.

The strangest parts were the fact that you could shoot webbing from openings in your wrists, and that you would get a strange feeling when something was about to happen. Your reaction time had heightened and your body molded itself into being fitter.

After days of change and determining that the spider gave you those powers, you found ways to control your new abilities. You even made yourself a suit from your webbing. After school days, you would practice in a remote alleyway what all you could do. Swinging around and climbing walls wasn't as hard as you thought. Watching videos of Spider-Man's fights also gave you some tips on how to move well. You were around one month into your new experience before this incident.

...

"So that's where it went...And you made sure 100% that you killed the spider?"

"The only thing left was a blot on the ground. Pretty sure it's dead."

"Great. My two problems have been cut to one."

You wondered if the problem he was referring to was you and the spider. You were correct.

"So can you let me out now?" You wiggled the only movable thing your body, which was your hands. Spider-Man laughed sarcastically and stepped backwards to sit onto the edge of the building. The wind picked up swaying his hair, and his eye pieces on his mask moved in a gleeful expression that you knew had a teasing glint in them.

"Nah, you can get out yourself. You're the same as me right?"

The same? You huffed and looked around you spotting the places his web connected to other structures that held you in place. Angling your hands in the direction of the connection, you shot a web and held on to the end. Your web connected to the place his was stuck on and you pulled with your hand as far away as you could.

His web snapped off, letting one arm loose. From there you broke yourself free from all the webbing. Walking with your back turned to him, you picked your mask up off the ground, moved your hair out of your face, and put it back on.

Suddenly, you felt a web come in contact with your back. Turning around, you saw that spiderman wasn't there anymore. A long web was quickly sliding down off the edge, and you noticed too late that the web was connected to you.

With a scream, you were yanked forward and launched off the building. Looking down, you spotted Spider-Man diving down with the web that held you in one of his hands. When his fall had reached around half of the buildings height, we shot a web from his free hand and began a swing.

"You better shoot a web, I'm gonna let go!" Although most of his words got lost in the wind, you got the message. As soon as you shot a string, the web on your back became loose. You quickly yanked it off your back and swung with your other hand to catch up to him.

You synced up your swing timing to match his, but as soon as you did he changed direction. you caught up to him stopping on a building top where he hung off the side waiting for you.

"You're slow." Indigo hair blew in the wind and his head tilted. His arm hung out in the wind beside him while he held onto the edge with his other.

"Well maybe I would have caught up faster if someone didn't pull me off the tallest building in the city. Secondly, I'm still knew to this whole thing." You landed a bit below him with a web holding you to the building. The man above you laughed and spoke in a haughty tone,

"all you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind." His hand left the edge letting gravity take him. Diving after him, you followed him through narrow alleyways and under highways. It was hard to see him because his suit was so dark, but the iridescent colors on his chest guided you.

You didn't know why you were following him, or better yet why he was indirectly telling you to. Chasing him around in sporadic movements soon became easier. It almost felt like he was training you.

At one point, he disappeared from your vision. Coming to a stop in a dark street where no cars were coming, you looked around. A sharp zing went off in your head, making you turn around in time to see a web come in contact with your face. The mask attached came off and your hand shot up to cover your face.

"Hey! You don't know who's around here, and there may be cameras in this area!" You yelled out in the direction the web came from with your hands over your whole face.

"If you can't block a simple thing like that, and by the way that wasn't even an attack, you're not going to survive fights or the media." A sultry voice spoke near your left ear.

You turned pretending to not be surprised by his sudden closeness. "What are you even talking about-"

"You think you can go back to normal society with these powers? You're already all over the media from swinging around tonight with me."

Spider-Man shoved your mask on your hands that cover yourself and you quickly put the mask back on. When you remove your hands, the first thing you see is a phone screen reading,

Another spider joins Spider-Man? Two swinging figures seen around teyvat city tonight, watch the video footage!

With narrowed 'I'm-not-having-it' eyes, you looked at him behind the phone, "you did this on purpose didn't you."

"The point is, you're now obligated to protecting the city whether you want to or not. It would be better if I trained you so you don't end up wasting your abilities by dying early."

My gods. Everything was happening so fast. Your hand came up to rub your temple through the mask because of the headache that rose.

Your hands went out in a calm down motion. "Ok ok give me a minute. I'm in college and I do have a lot of time, but how am I going to balance these two things? And how on earth are we going to meet up, to quote you, train?"

"Well I make it work with my classes. We can set a schedule for you to meet me at the building we first came in contact."

You mean the place you nearly busted my head open you thought to yourself before you caught an important detail in his words.

"You're in college?" You pause and look at Spider-Man who has his arms crossed. Silence before he spoke,

"No-"

"Oh wow you're younger than everyone thinks. I thought you were like 30 or something."

"Do I sound anything like thirty?" He said aggravated as he shot another web in your face making you take a couple steps back and struggle to get it off.

From that spot, you both worked out a plan to meet up three times a week on the tallest building roof. The first few weeks were rough, and they made you realize how tasking his job was. His training was rigorous, but you caught on fairly well. There were a couple times you went to grab his mask in hand to hand combat, only for you to fail and for him to flick your forehead. You tried making conversation, to which he didn't necessarily ignore you, but he kept his answers short and vague.

"So what major are you in since you won't answer which college you're at?" You poked his shoulder from where you were both sitting on the edge of the building.

"I'm an art student..."

"Actually?" You leaned forward and peered into the eyes on his mask. He nodded and went on staring out at the city. "What kind of medium do you like to use?"

"Charcoal most of the time. Occasional graphite or spray paint."

"I'll have to see some of your work sometime when we're not training. I really enjoy art."

"hmm..."

Over the next few times you two met, Spider-Man would let himself be more carefree with you in your now frequent conversations after training on top of the building. On one of your more tiring training sessions, a thought came into your head. This is merely training, what about real fights. Getting beaten and bruised with the media filming all of it. Was it ever lonely or stressful all by himself?

When you both sat down on the edge, you asked the question.

"It is lonely, being the only one in this position? Saving the city all by yourself?"

"It...was lonely, but now I'm too preoccupied dealing with your annoying ass to be like that."

"Aww, did my 'annoying ass' fill the void in your heart?" You exaggerated the last bit and poked his shoulder.

"Pshh." He pushed your poking hand off of him and tried to shoot a web at you again, but you dodged it. When his hand shot the web, you took the opportunity to try to grab his mask again. It had honestly become a thing to tease him with.

This time however, was different. He just seemed to sit there and let your hand wrap around the edges of his mask, taking it off and exposing his face. His hair whipped around in the wind, the violet bangs brushing his forehead. Long eyelashes and eyes that blinked slowly, almost teasingly so. His irises, like the color on his suit, but with depth and a color you could only describe as mesmerizing. Skin soft and a rosy pair of lips that parted slightly as you took the mask away. You almost reached out to touch him.

"Your eye pieces are wide open, what's the matter~?" His hand extends a bit and closes your slightly open mouth. He doesn't even bother to take the mask back from you, and instead just leans back on the ledge and throws his head back. Adam's apple moving as he swallows slightly.

"Uh-" you cleared your throat and tried looking at him again to speak, but when you did his eyes were locked with yours making your lungs close up.

"Scaramouche."

His voice brought you back. "What? Like Bohemian rhapso-"

"My name dumbass. You can use that instead of Spider-Man. Of course, not in public..."

You took off your own mask and set it beside his that now lay between you both. The wind felt good on your face, you hadn't taken it off in a while up there. There was a silence that hung from that point. You both rested there in your seated positions, and scaramouche could have sworn he heard you try out his name on your tongue.

...

The next month was peaceful. Winter break had begun, so you were able to rest at your apartment and spend more time with scaramouche. He actually started letting you into his life. You learned where he went to college and got to see a lot of his art projects in his own living space, although he kept some of them hidden from you for reasons unknown to you. Of course, you couldn't leave him alone about them and would always be trying to search for them when he wasn't looking.

"Hey, what do you say to getting a drink at- what the hell do you have in your hand?"

You stood there at his sketching desk, with papers that made your eyes wide. On the parchment, were graphite sketches of...you. The way the details on your face were so accurate made you blush furiously. All those times he would just seem to stare at you when your mask was off, was he looking so intently so he could draw you? The answer was right in front of your face.

Gods you were in deep. Not only did you develop feelings for him when you started training, but seeing this made you realize it was probably not one-sided.

Quick footsteps came behind you and a hand reached out to take the papers from you. Turning to him, you were surprised to see scaramouche's face close to yours with glaring eyes and a red that reached his ears.

"Did I not say that you weren't allowed to see those?"

Nothing came out your mouth. Your lips only parted to try and give an apology, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flicked down to your parted mouth. His eyes said so much, but you could see there was a fear in them as well.

...

After that incident, not much was said between you. The very next day you met on the tallest building once more. It was the day that you two would spar, like every other time right?

Wrong. You were both distracted. Every grab on your arm shot electricity through your soul, more than before. The same could be said for him. The distraction caused an accidental blow to the face, which knocked your mask off.

"Ah shit, are you al-" his voice cut short. You were leaning back against the wall behind you that he first encountered you on. Your chest was heaving and visible breath from the temperature came from your mouth. You looked too good to him in that moment, so he let his desires take over.

"Yeah I'm good...it just knocked my mask off-" a strong grip pushed you against the wall.

"Hey what-" Looking up at him, you saw his hand reach up and rip off his mask, his violet hair messily flowing around. He threw it to the floor before grabbing your face and smashing his lips on yours.

Your hands instinctively grabbed his suit turtleneck collar and pulled him into you. He wasted no time pushing his tongue past your lips and putting his body flush against yours. Surprised sounds left you as you could barely breath. He was desperate, hungry, and could no longer hold himself back.

The drawings were his only cope to deal with the feelings. Gods he was scared, scared that you would want to end the whole partner thing if you knew. Now all those doubts dissipated when he felt you meld your lips back with his when he tried to part your mouths.

Hands ran down your ribs and to your waist. His fingers were gripping you with need, and his mouth kissed you with abandon. Scaramouche never wanted to take his lips of yours, not after he'd waited so long gazing at you, watching the way you tried to do what he did, and feeling your covered skin when you fought.

Neither of you needed to breathe. You believed you could be sustained solely by each other's lips.

Only after several minutes of pure bliss in each other's mouths did you break apart for much needed air. You gasped and panted, and scaramouche did the same. He rested his head on your shoulder in the aftermath, just feeling your warmth that enveloped him despite the cold winds.

"Want to head to my apartment? We can um...continue there if you also want to-"

"Yes.”

You blushed when his hands wrapped around you and his face turned to kiss your jaw.

"I wonder if the media would like to know that Spider-Man is a romantic."

"Shut up..." He gave a slight laugh and slowly drew away from you. His eyes were clearly glazed over with a need for more, but he'd save it for when you were both warmer in your home. After picking up your masks off the ground, you both quickly made your way to your home where you couldn't stop scaramouche from starting to kiss your nape and skin before you even got into your apartment room.

Masterlist!

[transsexualbloodlust]

Must I Strive To Be Colorless 2025,

Fabric scraps sewn together by hand and machine, found furniture, plaster, gauche and tempura paint, receipt paper

artist statement:

“Must I Strive To Be Colorless” Is an immersive installation that aims to unite theories of racial alienation and oppression with a tangible, touchable, livable experience. This 10x10 room is lived in by a woman of color who wants nothing more than to escape the prison of whiteness she’s found herself in. The piece aims to embody the feelings of isolation and degradation that living under white supremacy cause; the spiritual and emotional erosion that the American Empire relies on to continue its never-ending march. From its inception, dread has been the emotional core of this project. As it stands, dread is one of the sharpest ontological tools that white supremacy wields against us. It creates a feeling of nothingness that leaves us empty and unable to fight back, a slight but constant discomfort that we’re meant to desensitize ourselves to. My hope has been to create someone who had escaped this desensitization, who could with ease point out the ways they were being alienated, if nothing else because of the literalness of their situation.

So I ask you to explore this hypothetical: What if society relied on your subjugation and loneliness so that it could continue unchanged? What if instead of longing for escape we slowly built our way out and towards one another?

[bluepaintbaby]

+18 -> smut | helping joseph relax before the game

𝓳𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓹𝓱 𝔀𝓸𝓵𝓵 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

c/w: pet names, swearing, praise, dirty talk, fingering, cum tasting, established relationship, roughish, semi-public male oral <- in a car with tinted windows, he is driving

He’s silent, eyes locked on the road as the city blurs past in streaks of gold. The streetlights paint shadows along his bearded jawline, down the length of his throat.

One hand grips the wheel, the other clamps tight on your thigh—so tight you’re not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. Joseph’s completely dialed in.

No bass-heavy pregame playlist. Just a haunting orchestra track filling the car. It wraps around you both like smoke; as tense as the moment.

He hasn’t said a word since you left your place—and now might not be the time—but you can’t stop staring.

That plaid, tailored suit? Perfection. Charcoal grey with subtle lines of navy and cream. It clings to him like it was stitched right onto his body; his brown hair, perfectly undone and touchable mess like he just ran his hands through it. His fingers curl around the leather steering wheel and under all that fabric, you can see his muscles.

He shifts in his seat, spreading his thighs a little wider, fabric stretching over them—and your gaze drops without hesitation.

Your breath hitches. All you can think about is straddling him right there in the front seat, grinding against him with your skirt bunched around your waist, the windows fogging, and music muffling your moans—

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, voice low and rough.

You flutter your lashes as a small, guilty smile tugs on your lips. “Yeah, baby,” you murmur, brushing your fingers over the back of his hand. “Just thinking about you...”

He glances at you, a flicker of a smile threatening to give way on his hard set jaw. “Thinkin’ about me?” His voice drops lower. The guard he’s had up all day softens at the edges.

You lift his hand from your thigh, slowly, and press a kiss to the top of it—light and teasing, just like he would.

Then, with your eyes still on him, you part your lips and slip two thick fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tips. Joey’s breath catches. He flicks another glance at you, then another making the car sways gently.

You reach over, trailing your hand down his chest, feeling the heat and tension thrumming through his body. Your nails drag lightly down his shirt's crisp, white fabric until you hit his thigh, scratching just enough to earn a quiet exhale from him.

Your fingers graze over his bulge—growing thick and heavy beneath his designer pants—and he shifts again, jaw clenched tighter, not from stress solely to keep his eyes on the road, and avoid them rolling back.

His hand fumble for the dash, flipping off the orchestra music.

A beat later, your playlist from a few nights before floods the car—the one you’d put on after their win against the Red Wings. The one that played while he fucked you into the mattress, kissed every inch of your body, made you scream his name until your voice cracked.

You lean in closer, the scent of his rich cologne washing over you. Your fingers work open his belt. The metal clicks softly before you slide the zipper down. Your heart pounds with the bass, excitement swelling in your chest as traffic zooms past the two of you; his windows tinted just enough.

He shifts in his seat, lifting his hips so he can shove his pants and boxers down. “You sure, baby?” He asks through a crooked smile as you grip his thick dick in your fist—hardening fast in your palm, long pulsing with need.

Your mouth waters as you stroke him slow, teasing, your thumb brushing over the head. “I need it… Is that alright?” You ask coyly. Joey’s cock twitches in your grip, his breath stuttering as you swipe your thumb across his tip, rubbing in a bead of pre cum.

“Fuuuck,” he moans as his head rolls slighty.

“You like that?” You ask.

“Yeah… Yeah, fuck. Keep goin’,” he mumbles his eyes on the road, but barely.

Joseph reaches over; fingers, slipping under your dress. He groan at how wet you are, teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of his fingers inside. The pace you set with your hand mirrors his—slow and purposeful, a shared rhythm that leaves you both panting.

Click.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and slide across the center console, before he can even register what’s happening next you take him into your mouth; his cock hot and heavy on your warm tongue.

Joseph’s whole body jerks. He draws his fingers from between your thighs, slicked with your wetness, and sucks them into his mouth, the corners of his lips curling into a smile at the taste.

“Jesus Christ, baby…” His voice is thick and hoarse. “You’re perfect. Too fuckin’ good to me.” His hand comes down hard on your ass, the sting sharp, and your moan vibrates around him as he spanks you.

A second later, his fingers knot in your hair, guiding you, controlling your pace. “That’s it, honey,” he groans, hips lifting gently. “Fuckin’ take it—so desperate, huh? Couldn’t wait ‘til after the game?”

You hum in response, lips and tongue working him while your hand strokes what your mouth can’t reach. His moans start spilling out, competing with the music in the car.

“Gonna make me lose it,” he pants. “That’s what you want, huh? Gonna swallow it all? Can't get dirty, baby—” He mumbles, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as his leg bounces beneath your hands, breath rough and ragged, chest rising faster now.

“Shit, baby… I’m gonna cum—” You suck him harder, throating his cock until he’s cursing and twitching, praising your name as he slams his big fist against the steering wheel, spilling down your throat.

His body loosens in the seat and his hold loosens on your hair. You pull off slowly, watching his cock throb still as he tucks himself in the waistband of his dress pants, hissing in sensitivity as he zips back up his pants, covering himself slightly with his jacket. He shakes his head, unable to wipe that wide smile off his perfect lips.

You sit up and smooth your hair in the visor mirror, licking your lips, catching the last of him as you giggle dizzily. The car rolls into the private lot; Joseph still dazed and breathless—completely gorgeous in his suit, paired with a soft afterglow of his release, and some sinful memories he’ll surely be thinking about later.

He chuckles, low and lazy, as he rolls his head on the headrest, locking eyes with you. “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

[just-some-user-hunny]

Cha Hyun-su x reader headcanons

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

~ Cha hyun su is so shy around you. He's like a lovesick puppy, always by your heels, but silently and averting your gaze whenever you look at him.

If you suddenly turn and bump into him, he'll manage to mutter a soft apology as his hand hesitates to take your shoulder to steady you, blushing all the while whilst averting your gaze.

~ If he's not being your overprotective shadow however, he's usually somewhere close where he can see and listen to you. He'll be sat quietly close by, his gaze occasionally flickering to your face. Hyun su just wants to make sure you're alright, so he'll keep an eye on you whilst he can.

~ Definitely an acts of service person. You had something precious of yours left in your apartment? You'll find it laid neatly by your side after you wake from a nap. Even if it gets him a bit more beat up than usual, he'll limp to you with your belonging whilst trying to keep a straight face. He'll act blazè and indifferent when you shower him in thanks and concern, but on the inside he feels like his stomach is going to burst from all the butterflies. He'll play a little with the fabric of his sleeve and mutter a low reply back, anxious that you'll see how flustered he is.

~ The first time he smiled at you was when you were the only one who told him to stay safe when he was sent off to do recon around the apartment building. He peered down at you in frozen contemplation, before a very small shaky smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I'll be careful"

~ If you get hurt, he gets very overprotective. He'll stay with you until he can get you help, delivering you to the others and stay to watch them patch you up before wandering back to his isolation room, now at ease, content knowing you're alright.

~ Sometimes he avoids you because he's worried about his monster persona hurting you. It's always a thought that lingers heavily in the back burner, everytime he feels himself grow more and more fond of you, it's there to remind him to stay away for your sake. Sad puppy boy will often isolate himself away from you specifically, and mentally beat himself up when he sees how dejected and sad you look from afar.

~ However his mind is set to ease, as not long after being trapped with the other residents, the moment the old convenience store owner snapped at you and raised his voice, hyunsu snarls at him that if he says one more unkind word to you he'll rip his throat out.

Everyone's startled by the sudden outburst from the quiet boy, but the sight of his completely blacked out eyes and intense glare with blood trickling down his chin shut them all up, and left the old man frozen in fear.

(Yes, that did inevitably earn him a couple of days in the isolation area, but it soothed hyunsu's worries of his monster side-who appeared to be just as fond of you)

~ He has the fluffiest, most touchable hair in existence. Seriously, it's just begging to be played with.

Not that he'll outwardly admit it, but he loves it when you play with it. He'll heavily slouch his shoulders to be more at your level (he's a big boy)

And will let you touch it to your heart's content. His favourite is when his ear is rested against your heartbeat and you're hands are running through the inky mess of soft hair. It's the fastest way to get him to fall asleep, just your touch alone lowers his worries and picks away at the heaviness in his chest.

Be aware however that this boys head is like a bowling ball (it's sooo heavy) So if you can deal with the pressure of his head compressing your ribcage like that, you're good to go 👍

~ Sometimes he'll gaze at you with the softest puppy eyes in existence. He'll just look at you like you hung the stars in the sky, listening to you attentively and carefully.

~ He purposely slouches when he's sat beside you, it's like he's trying to make himself appear less foreboding because he doesn't want to frighten you off with his rather imposing height. Yes, he has an absolute baby-face, but he's still very untrusted by the mass population of the apartment complex, and he doesn't want to give you any more reason to feel unsafe around him. You're one of the very few people there who treats him like a person.

~ He naturally struggles to talk to people, always murmuring and muttering softly under his breath,.but it gets worse tenfold around you. He'll stutter over words, freeze, and even go completely radio dead silent sometimes. You think he doesn't talk to you because he doesn't like you that much, but the truth is he gets so flustered around you he loses his voice. (Don't worry, the more effort you put into having conversations with him the better he gets at speaking with you. He'll get a little braver knowing you genuinely want to talk to him)

~ When he cuts his hair, he gets a little bit self-conscious about your reaction.

When you compliment him on it he gets so internally flustered, and honestly a little relieved. He'll reach to play a little with the ends of his hair, butterflies fluttering in his stomach after you told him it looked good.

~ Comforting him when he has nightmares

:((

You'll hear him thrash and whimper in his sleep, squirming beside you where you're lain on a sleep role.

His thrashing ceases the moment you press a comforting hand to his forehead, soothing your thumb over his pulsating temple. His pained expression goes gentle, ceases and melts into one of tearful content.

He wakes up bleary eyed and dazed, his blanket tucked up closer around him that he remembered, and he very slowly realises that you're holding his hand- your own form slumped sat against the wall, fast asleep.

Studying your smaller hand cradling his carefully, he can't help but swallow back his emotions and oh so gently squeeze your hand back. Thankful for you being there for him.

~ When it comes to his scars, he's not necessarily afraid of showing them, but he's also not keen on addressing them. You notice the fleeting hesitant look in his eyes when you capture a glimpse of the deep scarred slash along his wrist. There was force behind that cut, one that longed for peace. An end.

If you ever offer any comfort, or even just offer to listen to him, he may not jump immediately to the offer but his heart will clench and tears sting in his eyes a little. He'll nod after a few moments of silence, black hair obscurring his eyes and he hopes you can't see tears built up in his eyes.

Even throughout all this pain he's enduring, the confliction of seeking death yet unable to die like a human weighs heavily in his mind each passing day. Knowing that you will be there for him no matter what is enough to keep him afloat. Knowing that you'll listen is what is keeping him from drowning.

~ This man is very touch-starved, and he's just subtle enough to hide it. However you will catch him peering at you now and then when you're together, like he'll be looking at your hand almost longingly- but will grow quiet and shy if you ask him why.

"Is there something on my hand?"

"Ah- no,no- um... no, it's nothing"

"... y'wanna hold it?"

And he just very quietly peers up at from under his bangs and lightly nods, and he gets all flustered when you take his hand yourself and squeeze it :(( you can practically see the way his shoulders un-tense when you do so, and suddenly he looks a little more content.

(Ok but taking his hand and pressing your palm against his before carefully slotting your fingers with his to entwine them, and he's just gazing softly and silently at your face with his doe puppy eyes)

If you were to suddenly hug him, he'd be a little startled, but he'd melt so quickly in your arms <3 like he'd utter a soft confused noise the moment he feels arms wrap around his waist, but suddenly he feels his body feel warm and weightless and he just goes all gooey and melty and happily holds you back just as tight. And since he's quite tall, he'd be able to rest his cheek against your head and just stand there with you peacefully. Just big lanky arms gathering you closer, and he'd make little sad noises when you have to pull away :'(( so you just end up standing there for ages hugging each other.

~ He's very quiet and clingy to you, that he's practically your shadow. Wherever you are, he is usually not too far away.

~ He gets very flustered if you give him any type of compliments, this man will short-circuit the moment you utter out anything sweet towards him.

You mention that he has a really beautiful smile? He is gone. Windows xp bootup sound is the only thing ringing in his head right now, before he stutters over his words and clumsily thanks you whilst his ears turns red.

~ Hyun-su is just a very soft and protective boy, who'll go to any length of it means keeping you safe in this hostile world <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Totally unrelated lies of p content, but I wrote this a while ago and wanted to post it anyways 😅

[miasmaghoul]

miasma what r ur swiss tummy thoughts 🎤

syringe how DARE u make me consider the swummy when i have SO MANY KINKTOBER PROMPTS LEFT >:(

sigh.

anyway. i think swiss gains a little weight between tours and as such two ghouls in particular are even more obsessed with him than usual.

(contains: body worship, marking, tit sucking, some light scent kink, sloppy kissing, drool, teasing, and swiss being the desperate one for a change. at least a little)

His rusty purr echoes off his bedroom walls, his fingers drag through two heads of soft hair, and Swiss thinks this is as close to bliss as a guy can get.

Aeon had slithered up to Swiss' side right after lunch and hooked their elbows together, wrangling him back to the dorms with warm lips pressed to Swiss' ear. He hadn't complained; there were a few empty hours to spare until evening practice, he could allow their new addition to distract him for a bit.

Finding Dew waiting for them in the center of his bed, joint already lit, had been a surprise of the loveliest variety.

Swiss doesn't know how long it's been since they finished it off, but it's been long enough for Dew and Aeon to get wonderfully handsy. They'd fallen back against the headboard on Dew's last exhale, the little ghoul pinned to Swiss' right side and Aeon attached to his left. Heavy arms slung around their shoulders while Dew nuzzled his chest and Aeon shoved his nose into Swiss' throat.

This isn't the first time they've captured him like this over the past couple of weeks, and Swiss is sure it won't be the last. There are still nine days until the next tour picks up, and at this point it's harder to keep them off of him than on him.

It always starts with them touching over his shirt, long fingers dimpling the places where the fabric has gone taut. Drawn tighter after months of indulging in food, drink, and abject laziness when permitted. It happens to all of them, a few pounds added when they aren't able to sweating it off on stage. Even Dew has the most delightful little belly roll and love handles now, along with a bit more touchable puffiness in his chest. It'll all burn off once things pick up again, so none of the ghouls find themselves bothered when they all go a little soft(er) around the edges.

Least of all Swiss. He owns the tightest shirts for a reason.

Not that his shirts last very long when they do this. This afternoon was no different, Swiss' tee tossed to the floor the moment Aeon started to drool onto it. Their hands were on him immediately then; Dew grabbed a handful of his now-softer chest while he buried his face in Swiss' armpit, and Aeon had been quick to to sink his fingers into his stomach while he latched on to Swiss' collarbone. Both of then making the happiest little trilling sounds at the feel of his pudge giving beneath their skilled hands, sounds that made Swiss feel just a little higher.

Now, a truly unknown amount of time later, they've both migrated south. Dew's still pressed close, a skinny leg wrapped around Swiss' knee. He can feel the little ghoul's warmth through both of their pants, and there's sure to be a wet spot in Dew's jeans whenever he chooses to shred them. Dew's mouth is warmer, though, busy sucking the latest of many marks just below his navel. They overlap with the last round of still-healing bruises spotting Swiss' torso, a purpled mosaic of adoration.

Swiss sighs, rakes his claws over the little ghoul's scalp, and Dew looks up at him with the glassiest eyes. His lips swollen, flushed from so long spent worshipping every inch of Swiss he could reach. Spit slick as Swiss' own skin.

"Your eyes are red," he purrs, grinning with barely-open eyes. He cups Dew's cheek, no longer quite so hollow, and drags his thumb over his lower lip. "Almost as red as this pretty mouth."

Those lovely lips curl into the laziest smile when Swiss slips his thumb between them. The little ghoul gives it a lazy suck that has Swiss groaning, throbbing in his too-tight jeans. A pulse so intense that he's sure Aeon must feel it too, and the little whimper that floats up from his chest only confirms his suspicions.

Aeon's been straddling his other leg for a while now, making an absolute mess of his bare chest. Mouthing at his tits wet and sloppy, saliva catching in his thatch of chest hair with every pass of his tongue. Aeon's paid special attention to his nipples too, of course. Gotten them all puffed up and so dark with sharp but gentle teeth. He has one hand stuck up Dew's shirt, the other firmly planted on the side of Swiss' belly that Dew can't quite reach. Kneading away with abandon and entirely lost in his own little world.

Swiss drags his claws down the curved length of Aeon's spine, and the sound he makes has Swiss' eyelids drooping even further.

The other ghoul's lithe body is bent in a way that has his thigh slotted right up against Swiss' bulge. Not with enough pressure for him to get anything out of it, but it means they're close enough that Swiss can feel Aeon twitch against his hip too. Aeon gasps against his skin when Swiss grabs a handful of his ass, but flat out growls when he encourages Aeon to rut against him. Swiss chuckles, raises an eyebrow.

"Wazzat for, kitten?" He's can't keep the humor from his voice, impossible when Aeon sounds about as threatening as your average bowl of oatmeal. "Y'think I can look and not wanna touch?"

Swiss flexes his thigh, pushes it up into Aeon's obvious arousal, and earns a much more appropriate whine for his trouble. Aeon looks up at him, mouth hanging open, cheeks darkened and eyes barely focused. There's a string of saliva connecting his plush power lip with Swiss' nipple, and Swiss would break it with his tongue if he could reach.

"Didn't say that," Aeon slurs, pushing himself upright and pulling his hand from Dew's warm little tummy. The smaller ghoul makes a displeased sound around Swiss' thumb, but it's quashed quickly when Aeon scratches at the space between his horns. "Jus' not in a rush, is all. You're not gonna squishy forever. Wanna enjoy it."

Swiss tips his head and watches him for a long moment. Watches Aeon stretch both arms over his head, exposing a delicious stripe of his own flat stomach. He and Aurora haven't been around long enough to be affected by The Gluttony, but Swiss knows it'll happen soon enough. A few months touring and they'll come back with all sorts of new, voracious appetites in dire need of sating.

Swiss can't fucking wait.

He hisses when fangs sink into his thumb, pulling it from Dew's mouth with a soft pop. He frowns down at the little ghoul, but can't keep up the scowl for long. Not when Dew's scooting down to nose at his happy trail.

"You went away," he admonishes, kissing the button of Swiss' jeans. Chin hovering over straining denim. Dew's heavy eyes flash with something playful. "Jus' 'cause we're takin' our time," he murmurs, grinding slow against Swiss' leg, "doesn't mean you get t' think about other shit."

Swiss huffs through his nose, but offers a slightly sheepish smile. He reaches down, traces the shell of Dew's pointed ear with one fingers. The little ghoul chirrups, leans into the touch, and Swiss' other hand lands on Aeon's thigh. Strokes lean muscle, wishing it was skin beneath his palm. But hey, if they're in no rush then neither is he.

"Sorry Sparky, jus' got distracted for a second," he says with a wink. "'M all yours, I promise."

A bony hand sinks into his curls, and Swiss finds his gaze being redirected. Finds Aeon looking down at him with his head tilted, black and white waves falling over his forehead. There's something fascinating in his swirling lavender eyes, something Swiss knows he should recognize, but can't quite place. Something so similar to the brazen need in Dew's eyes, yet entirely different.

"Ours," Aeon corrects, voice firm. "You're ours."

Oh, that's what it is.

Possession.

Swiss' tongue feels suddenly too thick, too cumbersome. Impossible to form an intelligent response when his mouth is so dry. When had it gotten so dry? He has no idea. Still, he tries. Manages to make a dull gurgling sound while he soaks a stain into his boxers. Fuck he's so hard.

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the darkness in Aeon's eyes vanishes. He's loose once more, hazy, rolling his hips just enough for Swiss to feel the swollen ridge of his cock against his thigh. Then he's leaning down, and Swiss finds himself being kissed with the sort of slowness usually reserved for third dates and drive-in movies. Deep and with what most would consider too much tongue, but they both know that's just how Swiss likes it.

Warm hands squeeze his stomach, and Swiss manages to crack one eye open. Angles his head so he can peer down at Dew. Swiss smiles into the kiss at the sight of him, wide-eyed with his lips caught between his fangs. Groping his stomach like it's his job and not so subtly humping Swiss' leg while he devours the sight before him. A delicious sight, one made all the better when he sees Dew's hand creep up his thigh. Over his hip.

Swiss groans deep and pained when Dew finally, blessedly, cups the dull ache between his legs. Molds his fingers to the obvious swell of Swiss' cock and gives it a nice little rub. It's hardly anything, but it sends his head spinning anyway.

Or maybe that's Aeon stealing the air from his lungs. Hard to say.

Either way, Swiss is beyond dizzy when Aeon chooses to relent. Gulps for breath, licks his lips to drink down every sweet drop of saliva coating them. Aeon huffs out a soft laugh, rubbing their noses together and bumping horns.

Aeon licks a stripe up his cheek, Swiss moans, and Dew purrs when his cock kicks hard.

"Gonna let us play again now?"

Swiss is pretty sure he'd give up nuclear launch codes if it meant they would keep touching him like this. The fervent nod he offers Aeon only supports that.

"S'much as you want, baby," he sighs, hands roving restlessly over Aeon's shirt. Swiss' eyewhen Dew pops his button and starts to tug down his zipper. "Fuck, much as you both want."

Aeon kisses his temple, hums against thin skin, and then he's slinking his way down Swiss' body. Dragging his hands from Swiss' broad shoulders, over his pecs, down his tummy. Poking and prodding at his softest spots with the worst kind of smile on his face. He joins Dew in short order, bumps their horns together, and then they're kissing each other all slow and gross and unholy fuck does Swiss ache.

Aeon's hand joins Dew's at his zipper, both of their free hands occupied with massaging his stomach. Dew's the one to reach into his boxers once the last tooth separates, and Swiss doesn't even try to hide his groan of relief when the little ghoul pulls him out at last.

"Fuuuuuuck," he breathes, pure relief and red-hot tension threaded into the word in equal measure. It feels like he could cum in half a second, and yet somehow like his orgasm is a million miles away at the same time. A confusing ball of tangled need stuck low in his pelvis.

Then Aeon reaches in to cup his balls, and Swiss sees pretty purple spots.

"Heavy," Aeon coos, palming his sack and breaking the kiss just to flash Swiss a little fang. Dew takes it upon himself to nuzzle the base of his cock, to breathe in deep, and Swiss swears he feels the little ghoul get even wetter.

"Full," he rumbles, reaching out to rest a hand on the backs of each of their necks. Just to hold, a little something to keep him grounded. "Gonna empty 'em for me?"

Both ghouls snicker - never a good sign - and Dew lets his cock slide from his loose grip. Lets it fall against Swiss' pudge with a slap that's much louder than it should be, all things considered. Swiss shivers when he watches it spit fluid into his belly hair, and shudders when the pair of them dip down to lick up every drop. His dick jumps, hits Dew's cheek, and Aeon licks that spot up too.

Then they're kissing again, swapping spit that must carry the salty tang of his pre, and Swiss can only think of one thing.

"Will you...kiss it?" He swallows hard, warmth blooming through his pelvis when they part. When they gaze at him with lazy deviance. "Together?"

The noisy purrs Swiss gets in response make his toes curl.

[slumberingmuse]

The Arnolfini Portrait

Jan van Eyck, 1434, Oil on oak panel of 3 vertical boards

This painting is like a time capsule from the 1400s — two figures frozen in a moment that’s way more than just a couple’s portrait. Giovanni Arnolfini and his wife stand in this cozy, richly detailed room, decked out in all their finery. But what really steals the show? That tiny dog at their feet, symbolizing loyalty, and the freaky convex mirror in the back that reflects everything — including, maybe, the artist himself lurking in the scene.

Every detail here is insane: from the glowing candle that hints at something divine, to the intricate folds of fabric that look almost touchable. Scholars still argue if this is a wedding scene, a contract, or something else entirely — and that mystery is part of the magic.

Van Eyck wasn’t just painting a portrait; he was showing off how oil paints could make light dance like never before. This piece didn’t just capture a moment — it changed the game for art forever.

Look close. There’s always something new hiding in the shadows.

[heinrixvancunt]

longing to be near again / dragon age / fenris/m!hawke / explicit / 2.2k words

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It starts with Fenris receiving a letter.

He reads it, tracing the words with his forefinger, tasting them in his mouth, and then afterwards, he sits down on the floor next to the fireplace and opens a wine bottle. Aggregio Pavali. He drinks a sip and then spits it out. It tastes too familiar, it reminds him of Kirkwall. It reminds him of those nights drinking himself into a stupor and throwing up his acid tasting insides the next morning into a gutter. It was the only way he knew how to deal with the constant pain that came from his markings and past.

Now he wants that same numb feeling that came from drinking the whole night without having to actually taste the same wine he drank with Hawke that one time in Kirkwall, when they talked about his past for the first time. He’s not sure whether he wants to remember tonight. Kirkwall, Hawke, or anything else.

Though thinking about Hawke is inevitable, of course. Fenris is always thinking about him. He misses him and his touch even when he's in the same room – touchable, traceable with his eyes and fingers, with his bitten nails and sharp teeth.

He looks at the old favour Hawke gave him during their first night together. The colour has faded into a duller red, it's frail around the edges – Fenris takes it off only to put it on again. He touches the expensive fabric, rubs it between his thumb and forefinger.

read on ao3

[knottybliss]

It’s Saturday night and freefloating anxiety is welling up, what do we do, gang?

Driiiiiink!

NO! …well yes, but only as a wee side quest. We do THINGMAKE! Tonight’s thingmakery is twofold. First, yarn prep!

I got these two skeins of yarn on massive, massive sale not too long ago - Jaggerspun Green Line, 100% organic wool in Caramel and Twig. Normally $18/hank and I only paid $15 for both. WIN! (Am I bragging? I’m from New England. Of course I’m bragging.)

I’m getting increasingly confident in my knitting, and I think I’m going to try some kind of a thing with these on needles rather than my usual hooking. Which means that these need to become center pull balls. And also I need a pattern. Suggestions welcomed!

The other project is another skulls shawl in this silver wool yarn. It’s weighty yarn, meant to be a rug yarn, but it is surprisingly touchable. I think if, when I get it done, I hit it with some serious fabric softener and beat the crap out of it, it’ll actually be pretty nice.

If nothing else, I always love making this pattern. Nothing ventured, nothing gained!

What are y’all working on?

[ayyy-pee]

That sukuna art did things to my brain chemistry and now I am rabid but, but a little cuddle with utahime??? she needs to be in like thread bare clothing, anything for hands to slip under easily😩 she’s so touchable and I bet she sounds really pretty when she moans 😞 (okay, my brain can’t decide which fave I want to ruin 🤧)

GET OUT OF MY HEADDDDD

she's definitely in a white loose fit tank with no bra, and you can see her nipples through it. she tries to bite down and noises she's tempted to make when your fingers lightly brush her quickly hardening buds over her shirt. but she can't help it. she sighs, just a little bit when you cup her soft breasts in your hands and squeeze them gently. SDKFJDK

then her panties omggg. she loves when you play with the little hemline, teasingly dipping your fingers beneath the fabric, but never enough to touch her where she wants to be touched the most and soon they're soaked, and her pretty moans and sighs go from excited to frustrated until she's begging to press her body against yours and -

UTAHIME I NEED YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

[ntrlily]

Okay if I follow the pattern entirely I may not actually have enough hair fabric but if I sneak it back away from some of the spots where it's not actually visible/touchable I can swing this

[hyperfixated-homo]

dreaming of nothingness

Summary:

The forms around him melted into shapes that resembled something big, big, bigger than anything Bugz had seen. He wasn't in a room anymore, he was at- at an edge. A never ending edge. An edge extended with mountains and monsters and lights that don't make sense- a hell frozen over of the likes Bugz had never seen before. And beyond that- a fold. Where the universe came in on itself and became a lack of matter, where space became time became nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. There was nothing. And then Bugz was back in a room again.

Whumptober Prompt No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59623393

(Note: theres an in depth explanation of this fic in a note on ao3. If you wanna read it ^_^)

Bugz feels like he's melting. Maybe boiling.

Heat and heaviness fills his very bones. The world is sliding around his feet, shifting and moving in a way that feels distinctly incorrect and weirdly familiar. Colors seem to stretch out and meld together into unified shapes that take forms that Bugz can't recognize- amalgamations of billions of beings that Bugz isn't supposed to be able to see.

Bugz wants it to stop. But he can't make his tongue move.

Someone may be taking but their voice is far and fuzzy, sounds that seem to echo around him and fizzle out like popping candy. They're distant- but uncomfortably loud. Shades of static that make Bugz's head spin.

It's not meant to feel like this, Bugz thinks. Or maybe it is? It's hard to tell- the void of emptiness where his thoughts usually were is consuming him, turning him into a mindless drone.

This isn't right. This is- this is wrong. He tries to convey that to Honey- to Honey? Was Honey still here?

He couldn't tell. Everything was still moving but Bugz couldn't- his mouth was glued shut and his muscles loose. He couldn't do anything. The thoughts of apparent wrongness left him before they could form, visions causing fear reactions that had nowhere to sit except in his head, to stew, to rot, to die with him.

Was he dying? Was this death? Death was not usually framed so vibrantly- loud and boisterous and headache-inducingly bright.

The forms around him melted into shapes that resembled something big, big, bigger than anything Bugz had seen. He wasn't in a room anymore, he was at- at an edge. A never ending edge. An edge extended with mountains and monsters and lights that don't make sense- a hell frozen over of the likes Bugz had never seen before.

And beyond that- a fold. Where the universe came in on itself and became a lack of matter, where space became time became nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all.

There was nothing.

And then Bugz was back in a room again.

The noise subsided and Bugz could feel- could feel air, in his lungs. A heart, in his chest. There was fabric- real, textured, touchable fabric beneath him- there was air all around him (not the void not the void not the void not).

Through the ringing in his ears, Bugz could hear someone crying in the background. He thought he might be crying too.

It slowed, slowed, slowed, calmed. And then Bugz was aware of himself again. Not just the body he inhibited but the mind of it too. The being that he was supposed to be, in the enormity of the known (and unknown) universe.

It wasn't Bugz that was crying. Bugz wasn't doing much at all- he was just being. Being real, again.

Honey was crying. Crying apologies, in front of him. Apologies for the experiment gone wrong, for not paying more attention, for allowing the hypnosis to take him that deep when neither of them were ready.

Bugz wanted to say it was okay but his tongue still couldn't move. Funny, that. There was a fog around him now. A feeling, or lack thereof, that made him unexpectedly tired.

Bugz found himself drifting away, away, gone to a place in his own head. A controlled emptiness, this time- something for himself alone.

Bugz let himself fade.

[francesthetraveller]

What are your favorite AUs you have for the roblorbos?

Hoooh, there's like a hundred of them, many of them I'm not really able to count, but If I had to pick one, my personal favourite might be the Main AU.

The plot for the main AU takes place after the events of both respective movies, where the FLDSMDFR is now the main core of the island, and The Fabrication Machine has long been destroyed in its own universe. Now, through multiple escapades, The FLDSMDFR gets stolen by someone, and through a little bit of tinkering, the person puts a chip onto the FLDSMDFR where once activated it causes the machine to gain a touchable, solid hologram human body. Alongside this, said mystery person also through unexplained events recreated The Fabrication Machine, also gave it a similiar treatment. Eventually, The Fabrication Machine made a run for it out of an angry and volatile response, dragging The FLDSMDFR along with itself. But unbeknownst to them, they've actually are faaar beyond their respective homes, even further than they would be able to reach. So now the two are stuck together, trying their best to accomplish their goals of reaching back into their worlds, and along the way meeting other robots akin to them, and also granting them with the similiar ability that they have (albeit the importance of the chip may vary between variants of this AU).

Sooooo yeah :] the plot of Rio but with machines :o)

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Jake looks sooo touchable in his new suit. I wanna run my hands all over that silky fabric. Imagine how smooth it would be grinding on him and how quickly he’d get hard bc of that thin material

I’m so with you. And you’ve provoked a thigh riding/grinding on Jake, fic idea, so thank you for this 😵‍💫