#uhhh fuckin... uhhh... shit idk

[commonhobb]

Hi, I'm your """"friendly"""" neighborhood common hobb.

The joke is that I'm not friendly. I swear. Fuck you.

Anyways, this is the only post I'm gonna give tags besides this one because I thought it was funny.

The tags are just things I like/am idk

also here's my dni list:

[jubmato]

Hello!! Cutting right to the chase here – I have attempted to create a Discord server for still-interested DSMP fans! It’s intended to be a chill, creatively-geared space for individuals who are (mostly) normal about these characters. It’s been a backburner project of mine for a little bit now, but I think I’ve gotten everything I’d like to have settled, settled, so I’m attempting to release it to the public!

The server offers a couple different things, to begin with. We’ve got:

Automatic and manual moderation

Pluralkit

Off-topic (general stuff) and on-topic (DSMP-centric) chats, separated into their own categories

Off-topic and on-topic art and writing channels

And a flexible variety of other channels, such as areas for discussing AUs, theories, headcanons, and character analysis!

Basically, just a place to hang out and chat about the DSMP -- because it may be 4 years old now, but by God, some of us are still kickin’!

If this sounds interesting to you at all, even just a little bit, please give in to your demons and join. I promise I will keep things oh so normal and not insane. Link will be below the cut, if your interest has been caught!!

[todayisafridaynight]

i cant explain it but daigo being subtitled to just be like 'you're making me look like i have no balls' feels so illegal and wrong. hilarious but something's off

[see-what-sticks]

ouuuu last night's stream was rly funn tomar played oblivion for like what 4 and half hours? he was waiting for jaxxy to come home and stuff :o WHICH ACTUALLY she made a surprise appearance via phone call right before tomar started gaming aauuu... they're soo ouuuouiu starts pointing and gesturing OUUUOUUIUUUO

but uhhhh lots of thieves guild stuff idk what could've happened flr the last hour passed out <//33 lots of tomar reloading cus he kept getting caught by guards lots of punching heheh (he's doin a like no physical weapons run of sorts) uhhh fucck idk it was funsies tho :)

[trans-soapberry]

consistently thinking "man idk why I have so much trouble giving a shit about my social life to the point I'm probably super isolated but just genuinely can't bring myself to give a shit, like this seems like it'd be a reaction to some sort of trauma but there's like a Single Thing that I can think of that I consider in the realm of Meaningfully Traumatic (not in terms of like "real trauma" but in terms of "what would have lasting, identifiable influence on me after over a decade after it happened") to but that doesn't even seem like it would be connected" and then I realize said Single Thing was a result of not having/being taught how to set and enforce my own boundaries (let alone how to properly identify/ask about/respect others boundaries) as a kid and interacting with other kids who were similarly inexperienced in boundaries and exposed to age inappropriate materials and like. Hm maybe my disinterest in social stuff is connected to the fact I have trouble staring and then enforcing my own boundaries in general and I would rather Not Talk To People than have to stand up for myself (even if the person respects my boundaries I hate the experience because it never feels like it gets easier or less terrifying) and when comparing isolation that might be melting my brain to the ordeal of confrontation that no matter the result makes me feel like I want to die the isolation seems almost enjoyable by comparison

[seens]

me, the man who specifically requested that my sleeve not come down onto my hand so i can still hide all my tattoos with long sleeves: hm. i kind of want a neck tattoo

[jupiterpiss]

Pretty pleeasssee do virgin female reader having her first time with Remmick 🙏

AHEM! So. I know y’all liked how I wrote Remmick last time and I wanna say THANK YOU!! But this one is a bit softer him? He still banters and everything but I think he’s a shit ton nicer LMAOO he’s for sure not cursing anyone here. Maybe ooc him butttt idk I don’t really think so, I think this is just less scary him. ALSO SLIGHTLY PROOFREAD!!

Warnins: smut. That’s basically it with just a tiny bit of plot but HARDLY. He sniffs readers' panties and keeps them. MUNCHING. He whines and begsssss. Uhhh.. she jerks him off. Softer sex, nothing fucking crazy this time around. Cursing/swearing not actual curses like last time. Idk what else.. mentions of smacking all over the body. He smacks her tits and thighs mostly NOT HARD OR ANYTHING TERRIBLE just like in general. Marking.. no mention of what it looks like necessarily cause marking can look different on every skin tone, so it’s just hinted towards it. That should be all!’

It’s half past midnight when you open the door. Robe tightly pulled across your body, hand tighter around the door knob.

You’d been rudely awoken by some loud knocking at your door, flinching so violently you practically shook the whole bed.

The loud raps.. not even. Pounds. It damn near made you consider if the police were at your door.

It was brutal. Your whole day was brutal, with loud customers and a rush that lasted five hours. Working in the restaurant wasn’t for the weak. That was for fucking sure. You were spent. Done for the night. wanted to be dead to the world, curled up nice and tight in your sheets.

Apparently not, since God had to come around and force you to deal with some more bullshit.

And now.. the beating of a lifetime was gonna happen to the white man that stood before you.

“Remmick-“

“Baby-“

“I don’t have time for this tonight-“

“I know baby.. but shit— I haven’t seen you for a few nights now.”

You raise a brow at him, “Right. And that gives you the right to come round’ and bang on shit like you own the place?”

He shakes his head, “no.. no but.. I really did miss you and- look.. just lemme on in. Please.”

You stare at him. Face unimpressed, annoyance bubbling under your skin. You’re pissed, of course. He ripped you out of your slumber and is now attempting to rip you out of your home.. well, trying to get inside but still. Same intentions.

Doesn’t help either that he looks good tonight, with his hair messy, beard more grown in and the collar of his shirt unbuttoned showing off that golden chain you often imagine hanging over your face while he— he’s a sight. A sight you want to pounce on.. but your fucking tired. And you already know that his presence equals persistence.

He’s been at this for about two whole months. Begging, pleading to be let inside. That he’ll be nice and slow, that he won’t hurt you. Been outside complimenting you, lusting after you and has even dropped to his knees several times just to get his point across.

It’s a little more tame now compared to when he first came to realize exactly why you wouldn’t allow him in, despite the slick he could smell pooling between your thighs. Fucking huffed and puffed like a dog in heat, whined like a dying animal. Practically collapsed on the fucking floor.

“Yer a fuckin virgin?” He muttered, face a bit shocked. You nodded, “problem with that?”

“Jesus fuckin Christ.. no. No. Never. Just—“ he sighed, loud. Shook his head and cleared his throat, “don’t know why you kept that in for so long.”

“Never asked.”

His brows shoot up, “I had to fuckin ask?”

Yours furrow, confused, “course’. Why the fuck would I tell you otherwise?” And that causes him to stutter, mouth opening and closing, a thousand emotions running across his face before he settles on looking mildly surprised, “Well.. figured I should somewhat know that, right sugar? Pretty fuckin important now, is it?”

Important. Right. With how he reacted, jerked his head back in shock and then moved himself so god damn close to the door, the barrier of the threshold had to physically ward him off by lightly burning him.. you should’ve kept it to yourself a little longer. For simple amusement.

You shrug, “sure.. don’t change much about your problem here, though. Still can’t come in.”

“Shit— well, that’s just fucked now. You can’t mess with a man’s emotions like that!” He argues, porch creaking as he steps away from the door, “It ain’t kind.”

“Kind? I’m being kind to myself. I mean-“ you give a soft chuckle, sniffling, “I can hardly fit in my own fingers.. let alone yours-“ you gesture a hand towards him. He still has blood dried underneath the fingernails, the curve of his wrist having a smudge of mud on it, and his hands rough with the years. Really.. aside from just wanting to fuck with him, you truly believe they would be a rough stretch.

He shakes his head, scratching at his cheek as he looks down, face tight and lips pulled into a thin line.

“It would be a stretch and I just can’t do that tonight.” You give a small frown, though he knows fully well it’s mocked.

He places a hand against his face, sliding across his mouth as he looks up. Pained. Like he’s silently asking God why he must suffer.

“I.. feel that being mauled by a bear is easier than this. This is just—“ he throws up his hands, smacking them back down against his sides.

“The God’s sent you to fuckin punish me that’s what this is.”

What a Greek tragedy. you’re certain that even now, he still believes this is his punishment for all his wrong doing.

Really.. He needs you.

Needs you like the blood that he craves, like the flesh he rips between his teeth. The need for community, for friendship and love.. it doesn’t shine a single fucking light to need that boils deep in his bones. That primal instinct to claim.

He thinks he’s actually losing it. Going insane, goes too far to claim all his brain power and energy, his blood, is drained right to his dick. Making him act up more than usual.

He’s going crazy.

All because he believes he’s the one who deserves to take your virginity.

That he needs to or he’ll die, that your rejection will burn him just as badly as the sun. He’s dramatic. Too dramatic, for his own good. Sometimes you wonder if he has a part time job at a theatre or something given how well he acts, how much he emphasizes each emotion.

Like now.

You blink, “no.”

He hangs his head, a loud sigh leaving him. You don’t close the door knowing he won’t leave.. he never does. Doesn’t know how to, and you would know given how often you close the door on him. He just bangs the door harder. Gets louder.

You give a long exhale, tired. Of him and of the day.

“What.. you're sad you can’t come on in and get this pussy?” you ask, lazily. Calm and neutral, as if you're speaking of the cloud and trees.

He nods but keeps his head low, still hanging down, “fuck else would I be sad for.”

“I’ll let you eventually.. just, not now. I’m tired.”

Remmick gives a breathy laugh, tongue running along his teeth, not sharp. Not yet. Still in his human form, with uneven teeth and a wicked smile. He clicks his tongue, “always fuckin tired-“

You shrug, “well I worked a long fuckin shift, you would know what that’s like if you were employed.”

He lifts his head, hands stuck on his hips as his face scrunches into something unpleased. Annoyed, just as much as you are.

“Don’t.. just— Jesus, just a taste. Nothing more.”

Another long exhale, but this one drags on into a groan, “it’s always something with you. Seriously. Can’t stick your tongue into my cooch, so now you have to harass me every night?” your lip curls, shaking your head as you rest your hip against the door.

“I ain’t harassing you-“ you interrupt, “yes you are,” but he ignores it, “I’m just trying to show you how determined I am. I know I can treat you right.. I know it. Can do more than any other mutherfuckn’ random out here can. Baby..”

He takes a step forward, hands moving to the frame, holding himself up just past the threshold that won’t let him linger close. Can’t, not without you giving the right to do so.

“.. when I say I’ll have you shaking.. begging me on back, humpin me silly till’ you can’t no more.. I mean that. not just outta my own ego, it ain’t about just that. But because you deserve a little lovin.”

He shrugs, “I want to be the one to give you that lovin.”

You take it in. Silently. Slowly. Let the words mingle through your brain, sink into your flesh and coat the back of your teeth. You can’t distinguish whether the rumbling feeling in your chest, that tight pull and yank is your nerves or butterflies. They feel so similar, it’s really hard to make of what you should feel.

Not what he wants you to feel. But he stands there all the same, not in the sense of being none the wiser to your own predicament, he knows what he’s doing. Knows how steadily he’s been pulling back the curtain. Whisking away that fear you hold in your chest, that anxiety.

The heaviness sex brings.. where you can speak big but do little. He knows it. Knows that when you speak nasty, with such vulgarity, teasing him— none of it was true. Not really. Surely you wanted it but.. doing it? Shit.

In all that silence and time, eventually you speak, but it’s not exactly what he suspected would come out your mouth.

“You’ll let me ride..” you trail off, eyeing him up and down.

He nods. You narrow your gaze, “and hold my hand?”

He nods again, “fuckin course. Can’t just let you on Willy nilly. Already too eager for yer’ own good.”

“Can’t blame me,” you mutter. He grins, “no one is blaming you,” he raises a hand, “no judgment from me. Yer’ good.”

He watches your lip twitch, pulling down slightly before you look away. Caught in your thoughts, he isn’t even sure if you really are hearing him.

You won’t buckle, not easily. But he teases anyway, grin sharp but eyes soft, “nervous? Don’t gotta’ be.”

Your eyes shoot towards his, brows furrowing, “no. Just thinkin is all. Can’t do that now?”

He just holds up his hands, mock surrender. As if to say, ‘no problem with me’.

You shift in place, socked feet cold despite how warm the rest of you is. The floor doesn’t give much answers, stays quiet despite your piercing gaze. It’s not going to give any advice, can’t, but you partially wish that something would help you deal with this.

To say whether you should push or grab. And Remmick ain’t gonna give an unbiased answer.

Quiet floor, hungry man creature.

There’s no winning.

“You’ll go slow?”

You don’t need to look at him to know that wolf smile of his is on full display, “real slow. Think I’m fuckin dead.”

“You are.” Don’t need to look either to know he shrugs, “Further proves my point.”

You won’t admit it. But how you look up, dead set on him, eyes narrowed and almost looking mean.

He thinks you're going to shoo him away.

Instead, you give a low hum, then a sharp inhale before saying, “Don’t fuck this up.”

He answers quick, “I won’t.”

Your brows go up, “I mean it.”

He matches you, face stern and honest. Open.

“Me too.”

—

His hands are just as rough as you thought they would be. Dried, cracked on the fingertips, feel and sounds like fucking sand paper when he glides it across your skin.

He needs lotion, you make note of telling him that later.

But you moan all the same when he runs his fingers across your clothed pussy. Even shudder a bit. It’s odd.. really. You’ve touched yourself before, that isn’t foreign but from someone else? Your nerves are on fire despite how cold he is, how his warmth is no match for yours. He’s almost freezing, but that only adds to it. Adds to how you shudder each time he smooths a hand over your stomach, fingertips dipping across the curve of your pelvis.

It’s slow. Soft even. It almost feels like he’s trying to memorize this, you. Mapping you out, running his hand in every crevice and curve, watches your face with his ears perked, tries to catch each of your emotions. Studying you.

It should be sweet, should comfort. But instead it makes you nervous, intentionally looking away so you can somewhat ease the anxiety rolling off you.

Unfortunately for you, Remmick isn’t too fond of that. Your attempts to hide while he’s trying so desperately to understand you. He doesn’t say anything, but rather places a hand on your cheek.

Makes you look at him. Stare at him.

“Gonna taste you, okay?”

You give a shaky breath, but nod.

The bed creaks under the weight shift, his breath warm and kisses wet as he makes his way down. You expect him to procrastinate some more, to run his flesh over your own just to feel you, feel the weight of this moment. You expect him to map the expansion of your thighs, soft skin that has yet to feel the roughness of another’s hand, has yet to be marked or awarded with hickies.

Instead, as he moves down, both his hands work to reveal you. One lifts your nightgown, robe long removed since he was allowed in, and yanks it over your stomach. His other starts urging your panties down, yanking them though he fails to actually get them past your hips.

Upon them being stuck, it momentarily stalls him. He gives a confused look, glancing down to check why you won’t let them off, hips down against the bed as you make no attempt at helping him.

His mouth opens slowly, the words willing themselves on his tongue as he goes to ask you to lift your hips. Help him out a little. But they’re never spoken, dead and buried as you hand grabs at his bicep, squeezing twice to get his attention.

“What?” His brows furrow, eyes flickering between your own. You don’t answer him, just grab at his sweaty button up, slowly pull him towards you.

He follows your hands, the pull of his shirt as you guide him away from between your legs and towards your stomach. Force his head down, bowed, curled over you. It takes him a second to understand what the hell you're asking for, but he eventually falls in rhythm. Start kissing against your stomach, light nips and the occasional lick over the small bruises he leaves behind.

You give a small sigh, but it’s not out of content. Not yet at least. With each kiss, he tries to go back down, but you don’t let him. Force him to stay with a firm hand on his head, which coaxes a few muttered groans and grumbles against you. Small annoyed, “Jesus just-“ before you plant him back up, followed by, “I’m trynna taste you-“

He doesn’t get to complain long, though, because you force his attention up. Force him to kiss just above your lower stomach and to above your belly button. Then, when he kisses a bit further up, you pull the fabric of your nightgown up with him. He notices, obviously, and gives a small chuckle against you.

Gives a few quick kisses against you before muttering, “coulda just told me what you wanted.”

You give a small hum, shifting your hips a bit closer to his, “where’s the use in that? Wanted you to figure it out yourself.”

Remmick nods at that, lifting himself from you so he rests on his knees and gives him room to see you sprawled out underneath him, legs open as you try to subtly get closer.

The small whoosh of the fabric as he yanks it up over your breasts, revealing them to him and the night, sending a chill through you. Goosebumps rise across your flesh, breath shaky and the tips of your fingers tingle with how much your nerves take over.

He notices all that. Doesn’t deter him one bit as he goes back down, where he mutters against your chest, “Figured it out,” and sucks your nipple into his mouth.

It’s an odd sensation, to have something so wet and warm wrapped around you— sucking you at that. Sure, your fingers worked wonders. A form of foreplay that first started as mere curiosity, something stemmed from you hearing a friend talking about it.. how her man tended to suck at her tits before plowing her home.

“It emphasizes it.. ya know?” You had no clue.. but upon your own discovery later that night, it became part of your routine.

But this? Now you feel like kissing her and thanking her before kissing her again.

He tugs lightly, licks and pulls but never yanks, never scrapes his teeth. There’s a small voice in you that notes how easily he could bite you now, how willing you are to give him the opportunity to do so. But he doesn’t take it.

Don’t need to, not now. Just loves, like he said. Neither breasts are unnoticed, untouched. Both given equal attention as grabs at one tit while he’s busy sucking on the other, maneuvers between the two.

You aren’t even aware of your hips rocking, how you knock against his pelvis, soft rolling. Not aware until he removes his hand from where it was lightly squeezing against your breast to rest against your hip.

Not moving, or adjusting, just there.

You give a soft whimper after a particularly rougher suck, one that you’re certain will mark. That you’ll feel later, breasts sore and achy from the attention he brings.

He plants a kiss against it, gives a final lick to the space between your breasts before stopping all together.

He smirks at the whine that leaves you, “eager, huh?”

You don’t respond, don’t need to when he answers for you, “yeah.. yeah. It’s okay, ere’ to make it all better, that’s my job.”

Upon the last bit of his sentence you give him a funny look, “your job?”

He cocks his head, “yeah. Called ere’ for a reason.. say I ain’t employed but pleasurin you is a full time act.”

He doesn’t let you think too hard about it, meant to be a joke though it holds no humor— he partially means it.

Plants a few lazy kisses onto your lips, cheeks and chin before making his way to mutter into your ear, “Gonna taste ya now. Stop stallin,” and nips it before hauling himself back down.

Hauling isn’t really the correct term. Not with how quickly he moves, one would think you threw garlic water at him. You gasp as he's already tugging at your panties, putting a hand under your lower back to get you to gear your hips up.

You expect him to discard the flimsy fabric, off somewhere into the room or onto the bed. Forgotten. No.

That’s too normal for him.

Remmick stuffs his face with them, takes a deep sniff, one you can see with how sharp his inhale is and how his chest expands before dropping into a long exhale.

He doesn’t even move it from his face as he mutters,“Oh baby… They make candy after you.” It’s muffled behind your panties, not that he cares.

Not that you care much either, face slightly pulled into disgust but really the slick between your thighs worsens. You can feel a second heartbeat already, pounding louder than the one in your chest.

“You’re nasty.” You groan, hunger hidden behind disgust. He only smirks, removing it from his face before stuffing it into his pocket, for safekeeping.

You don’t expect to see those ever again.

That thought is long forgotten when he shoves both of your legs over his shoulder, feet hanging in the air as he props himself onto his stomach.

Groans low, deep rumble that you feel through your own skin, “Fuckin starvin..”

The first lick feels weird. Wet. Sticky. Flesh against flesh, texture so foreign it feels uncomfortable. Too much and too little at once, makes your toes curl but not in pleasure.

Not yet.

You’re shaking without realizing it. Nerves shot. It’s almost like your antsy, or cold, but he feels your legs keep twitching, unable to be still. You wiggle your toes, or keep fidgeting with the fabric of your bedsheets. He ignores it, at first, chooses to give another long lick.

But no sound. Not even a gasp. He feels you shake your foot then, a soft rhythm of tapping, wiggling you a bit. Like you're bored.

He looks up, sees you looking at the ceiling.

You hear the smack before you feel it, a small ‘wack’ that immediately makes you flinch, the skin of your thigh warm to the touch, blazed. You immediately look down, “The fuck is you doing?!”

You're met with his frown, features tugged down into a displeased look, “You ain’t focusing.”

You scoff, throwing up a hand, “I am focused!”

“Yer’ fuckin fidgeting.. acting like I’m some fuckin pussy doctor and not yer lover.”

You give a small ‘psh’, which Remmick doesn’t take too fondly too but before he can sass you on it, you cut him off, “I don’t know how to react! Don’t feel much either, just you..” you gesture down to where you're open for him. Wet and inviting, yet both of you ignore it, “.. screwing around.”

“You ain’t given me a chance to do much yet, hardly even got into a rhythm. Hell.. I ain’t even stick in my tongue yet.”

You blink at him, slow, “you did. I felt it.”

He cocks his head back, “not fully. Just— look at me. Okay? Focus.”

It's only when you nod that he drops his head back down, eyes remaining on you to ensure you actually stick to your word.

You keep your gaze down on him, watch as his eyes drop from your own back down to your flesh, which he gazes upon with hunger, eyes half lidded and mouth drooling. This time, instead of just feeling it, you watch him stick out his tongue and run in between your folds.

It feels weird, wet again. Not extremely gratifying but you wait silently, continue watching. He gives a few other kitten licks, swirling his tongue around, purposely avoiding your clit.. not that you are any wiser to what he’s doing.

Eventually, he does get into a rhythm, one that slowly starts to spark some pleasure.. just not enough. The hair on his beard is prickly, scratches against your flesh in a way you’re certain will give you some type of rug burn.

It ain’t a whole lot. Really.. you're starting to think nothing is gonna come of this. That he’s just poking around down there and hopefully will give up soon.

You’re not really fond of it.

Not until he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. Hard.

Your hips jolt, a sharp ‘hm’ leaving you. He gives another light smack to your thigh, playful, and continues sucking on the bundle of nerves. Swishes around between his lips, licks and lightly tugs— not enough to hurt but enough to make you yelp, hand gripping at the bedsheets. He flicks his tongue back and forth slowly, swirls it around again before collecting enough spit in his mouth to dribble it over your pussy.

You don’t find yourself to be the most vocal, despite living alone. Just heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, not that you cared about the amount of noise you made— but here? Now? He’s got you practically singing to the fucking choir, loud moans followed by gasps that he happily soaks in, basically jumping for joy as he continues his attack on you.

Remmick releases your clit from his warm mouth, tongue slathering down to lick at your entrance, skirting around the hole. He decides he needs more room, so brings two fingers up, spreading you further apart for his eyes to bask on before he shoves his tongue deep inside you. That pulls a loud moan from you.. and then a few more when he starts to fuck his tongue into you. Shoves it in deep and flicks his tongue up, as if he’s looking for something.

He doesn’t think he’ll reach far, but the taste of you— sweet, tangy. Coats his tongue and swirls its way down to his teeth. Leaves traces of your own essence across his taste buds. He doesn’t really care how far he reaches.

He’s a messy eater. Saliva drips down from his mouth, down your cunt and down your ass. He keeps spitting and swishing saliva around, coating both you and him in saliva, soaked in it. There’s so much, it only intensifies the sounds more— the slick of you as he runs his tongue up and down, mixing cum and spit together.

Your close to cumming, can feel that sharp pull. Usually it comes slow, a small linger of something bittersweet lying on your tongue, your fingers fast and hips jerky. With Remmick, however, it’s different. Instead of slow it comes in fast, and more violent. Tangles your guts together and brings a low hum between your legs, forces you to grip his hair and grab at his shoulder, nails indenting the skin that lies beneath his clothes.

He gives a low hum of approval, even goes as far to shuffle you closer with one hand, the other occupied with rubbing your clit.

“Please-“ you softly moan, voice soft and damn near broken. Remmick doesn’t say anything in return, but he hears you loud and clear.

Given an inch and he takes a whole mile— he decides to further the pleasure and stuffs a finger inside you, a noticeably tight fit.

Only then he pulls away, “you weren’t joking— shit.. I can hardly fit one in.”

Your eyes widened at that, panicked. He looks up, upon being met with your silence, only to see you stare back at him scared.

“Just gotta stretch it out, it’ll be fine.” He waves it off, finger still resting inside.

You narrow your gaze, “stretch it?”

He nods, “yeah, s’ normal. Relax.” And then he pulls it out just to place it right back in, a slow pace that begins to build. That shuts you up, but it doesn’t necessarily keep you any less panicked.

Despite your panic, he continues licking at you, other hand slowly trailing over your stomach and up to your breasts that are no longer exposed, the nightgown back over your stomach.

He slips his hand under it, grabbing at your chest. You give a soft whimper, your hand placed over his on top of the fabric, making him give a firm squeeze to your boob.

“Taste so fuckin good-“ he mutters, his breath warm against you. With the grip on his hair you force him closer to you, rocking your hips slightly to urge him on.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling over, gripping its way through your cooze and up your legs, over to your chest where it pounds like a drum. Your back arches more, hips pressing against him as you practically hump his face. Your moans are more whiny, more pitched. You’re close, and he knows it. Can tell how much you're dripping down his hand, not even two fingers in. But he tries.. works you through accepting another, which funnily enough glides right in.

He gives a surprised hum, “look at that, already a pro.” He looks up at you, a small smile in place.

however, you're too caught up in the bliss of it. Head rolled back, mouth dropped open chanting silent prayers— neither for God or any higher being, but for Remmick. His name comes out in soft whispers and whines, calls of the devil. So sweet.. so nice it makes him fuck his fingers into you faster.

You think you might sob, and can feel yourself close to it. That tightness of your throat, the wobble of your lip. But you hold it back, don’t really want to feed into his ego. You refuse to be completely ruined from his fingers alone.

But the way your orgasm comes crashing over, body shaking, hips jerky and uncoordinated. He doesn’t need you to cry to know he’s achieved exactly what he’s came to do.. and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

He takes his fingers out, replacing it with his mouth and tongue. Takes all you can give with a loud groan and a very light slap to the underside of your tit. He lets you ride it out, sucks on your clit until you start patting him on the head urging him to stop, that it’s too much.

He comes up, beard wet and hair messy, gripped and pulled making the ends stand every which way. Pulls his hands away from you completely, both resting on the bed as he crawls his way back up to you. He uses the back of his hand to wipe some of your cum off his face, but the tangy smell still sticks against his facial hair.

Comes in real close when he goes in to kiss you, “Taste real fuckin good, stay down there for hours.”

And he ain’t lying, cause you taste yourself then. Sweet with a slight bitter undertone, not too much just there. Mixed with his own saliva.

Lingering on him, part of you feels achieved that when he leaves after tonight, he’ll still taste you on his tongue. Still smell like you on his beard.

“I want it,” you mutter against his lips, “want you.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, “mhm. Please.”

He’s already stripping down his suspenders, taking off the buttons of his shirt at lightning speed, hardly taking a second to even relax. Doesn’t need to be told twice what to do, no with you begging like that. Hell, he doesn’t even leave the bed until his pants and shoes become a problem, forcing him onto the floor.

He strips down all the way to just his boxers, clothes thrown off to the side in random parts of the room, and eventual tripping hazards. You don’t even get time to strip your own nightgown off before he’s doing it for you, practically ripping it off of you before throwing it aside.

He whistles low upon seeing your naked frame, shakes his head slowly, “look at you. Girls would kill em selves just to have half of what you got.”

Your cheeks warm, a smile so sweet and shy it forces a smile of his own.

“Gonna just devour you. Show my love in ways no one else can. Mine from now on.” And how he says it.. cooed and promised, like worship. A prayer.

Sacred.

He grips your hips, forcing you onto the edge of the bed and your legs open, where he gives himself room to stand between.

His hand reaches for one of your own, which you happily give him, and let him guide it towards his lips. He gives a soft peck to your flesh, eyes stuck on your own as he does so. But he doesn’t let it go, instead rubbing the prickly hair of his beard against the back of your hand, as if he’s trying to get you to pet him.

“Scratchy.” You mutter, which pulls a soft snort from him.

“Tends to be..” he smooths a hand across the inside of your thigh, “didn’t rub too much here?”

You shake your head and he accepts it with a soft ‘kay’ before planting another kiss on your hand before he trails it down. Down across his chest, his stomach and right over to the extremely prominent bulge.

“See that? That’s what you be doing to me.. all those nights, all that beggin? That’s what you did.”

He plants your hand firm against him, makes you really feel him. The ache of him, how tight the fabric is against him. You take a shaky breath.

“Why don’t you go ahead, pull it out.” He cocks his head down towards your hand, gives a small nod when you peer up at him unsure.

“Go head’,” he nods again.

With a shaky hand you pull down his boxers, his cock immediately springing out. And it’s..

“That’s bigger than two fuckin fingers, Remmick.”

He looks down, “Well.. it ain’t supposed to be that small-“

“That’s a good seven inches. I ain't fitting that.” Actually, it looks slightly bigger.

It’s thick, and long. Bright pink tip that you know for certain aches, leaking small rolls of pearl white precum and some prominent veins that you’re certain you will feel. It’s gotta be four (of your fingers) thick.

“Don’t let it imitate you. You’ll take it fine, here,” he smacks it against your open palm, “feel it. Get familiar, introduce yerself.”

He wraps your hand around his dick, looks down and drops his head a bit low just to spit directly where your hand connects to him.

“Jerk me off a bit,” he instructs. You look back down, unsure of how to go about it but you smack his hand away when he tries to help. He places both hands up in surrender before they go back to your hips.

Both of your heads are dropped down, basking in the sight of your hand slowly stroking him, the mushroom head disappears and reappears between your spit slick palm.

Remmick continues watching, soft groans and the occasional whimper leaving him with each stroke, feet shifting against the floor as he moves closer.

“Shit..” he breathes out, mouth hanging open as you give a tiny squeeze, “do that again.”

You give another soft squeeze, coupled with a flick of your wrist down, and that pulls a low moan out of him. Your eyes shoot up to take in his expression, the way his face contorts to one of pleasure, how he softly bites his bottom lip showing off his fangs.

Now you get why he stares at you so often. You think this is what he feels, this curiosity and need to see more. Know more. With each moan coaxed out of him, you jot it down.. do whatever it was that made him sound so pretty the first time again a few more times until his hips are rolling against you, uneven jerks into your palm. He says your name so softly, so nice. It sounds so pleasant coming from him.. like your name was crafted by your mother merely for this moment, only for him to utter. Her way of granting you the experience of being wanted and kept simply from the soft call of your name from the tongue of a supposed devil.

You think you want him as your own too.

“You’re really somethin.. ya know that?” You whisper, cutting through the quiet groans and moans.

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks up into your gaze and sees it. The way you mean it, the way your eyes flicker between his red ones, checking to see if he heard. If he knows.

You speak up again, still whispered, as if you spoke any louder it would ruin the intimacy of the moment.

“Thank you for doing this to me. Being soft.”

That’s all it really takes for him to pull himself out of your palm and tap against your entrance. Neither of you look down to what he’s doing, eyes focused on each other, afraid to break your gaze for different reasons— that if you do, everything will fall apart.

He thinks you might leave. You think he might become mean.

Before he enters, your hand shoots out towards him, to the one resting against your hip still, “hold my hand.”

You don’t need to tell him twice.

He grips your hand hard, holding it tight when he first pushes the tip in. You give a small gasp, brows furrowing tight, confused. Unsure of what to make of the sensation. Nothing yet.

He waits a moment before further pushing in, stopping when you place a hand on his chest, “wait- just.. wait..”

You take a deep breath, needing a minute. It’s uncomfortable, and honestly hurts like a bitch. Even with you wet, you can still feel the stretch of him, the way he forces you apart on his dick. It pinches, and you silently curse your sisters for downplaying how rough it is at first.

He tilts his head, “you alright?”

You give a small nod, rushed. Giving a long exhale, “yeah just.. yeah. Go on.”

He continues all the way to the midway point before deciding himself that it’s good enough. Any more and it’ll be excessive, for now.

“Here. I’ll go slow. Tell me when yer ready.”

It’s silent for a bit, just the soft shaky inhales and exhales of your breathing, coupled by his own steady ones. He doesn’t groan, it’s much softer than that, but he does make small noises here and there. Waits for you to adjust despite the fact he wants to ram it fully in, has to cockwarm himself for a good minute and that doesn’t help much.

He practically whimpers when you finally nod, pulling out so the tip is only inside before sliding back in half way. Still, the discomfort is there, still feels like a lot to take in. You give more pained groans than anything, mixed with his own shallow breathing, but you wave him off every time he looks towards you. Silently asks you with furrowed brows if you want him to stop, but you push through it. shake your head no.

It’s until his pace grows more steady, a little faster that you feel that brush off pleasure, a small gasp leaving you. He doesn’t slow, but he raises his brows, asking again.

You shake your head, “faster,” and he does just that.

He drops your hand to wrap your legs around his hips, keeps you prompted up as his thrusts grow more frantic. That bitter tinge of stinging has finally left, overcome by the overwhelming pleasure of being filled again and again, each ridge of him slipping it perfectly.

He takes note of how he doesn’t even need to stop at the midway point anymore, feels how your walls flutter and clench around him, sucking him in further. He complies, bottoming out.

With doing so, a moan leaves you, hand again smacking at his to grab yours. Your fingers interlock, held tightly together as your body moves in time with his thrusts. The bed creaks and groans, the headboard moving against the wall giving a steady beat.

“Fucking hell.. knew this would be good, knew you would be good.” He moans out, “fit perfectly in this pussy..Like it knows me already.” He smacks your thigh again with his free hand, gives a lazy smile.

“Uh.. well given how-“ your cut off by a moan, head thrown back as you close your eyes as a means to concentrate, “- much I imagined this, yeah, probably does know you.”

That catches him off guard, momentarily falters his thrusts into slowing down, but after you give a sharp whine while gasping “don’t stop!” he gets right back to it. Goes harder, puts a leg up until the bed, hitting so deep it makes you claw at his chest.

“You imagined this?”

You don’t seem to register his words, nor the fact that he’s speaking to you, so he has to squeeze your hand a few times to get your attention.

“Hm?”

“You imagined this?” He doesn’t sound stunned, not really. Just curious, the shock washed away.

You give a lazy nod, “uh huh.. you not the- fuck- not the only one waitin-“ you moan again, jerking your hips up to meet his own.

Remmick doubles down, placing a hand against where he bulges in your stomach. A long string of curses leave you, nails digging into the skin of his hand and clawing down his chest.

The headboard is no longer quietly running its rhythm, instead banging against the wall so roughly you're certain it’ll leave indents on the wood. Not that you care when you can feel Remmick’s dick seven inches deep, hitting spots so sensitive it makes you see stars. The sound of skin slapping and moans followed by male groans is loud, takes up the whole room. Echoes across the half of your small home. You pray no one is takin a walk at night.

You keep staring at him, occasionally having to look away given how good it feels, your toes curled tight and back arching.. but the sight of him is heavenly. It helps that he’s very expressive, his face pulled into a pained look, brows furrowed and fangs fully out, biting so hard into his bottom lip traces of blood can be found in the indents. Coupled with his whole body shuddering, and his hair a complete mess. Just makes you more needy.

The chain dangles above you just how you imagined it would, the light reflecting on it, a beacon. You watch is swing back and forth, hypnotized by at.

At some point, when you roll your hips just right, and clench down hard enough his eyes roll back. You don’t really think he’s all there anymore, that if you were to ask what state you were in he would say some fucking random one. Hell.. you ask what his name is and he wouldn’t know it.

His eyes are glazed over, incoherent mumbles leaving him.. and drool. So much of it. It hangs off his chin and slowly drips down to your chest, breasts now wet from the over extensive amount of saliva coming from him.

Not that you're any better. You’re on cloud nine, head back against the bed, occasionally jerking your hips into his but really you don’t do anything. Just lay there and take it, eyes glazed over just like his and mouth unable to close given how many moans are ripped out your throat.

The slick between your legs is wet, leaving a wet spot on the bed that you will need to clean later. It also coats his cock, leaves a white ring of shared cum on the base that catches the light of the oil lamp.

He says it before you get to, “m’ gonna’ cum.. h-holy fuck I’m gonna-“ he shudders again. Like he’s cold.

You nod, “me too.. just..”

You trail off, unable to think for yourself let alone the both of you.

He looks down to where you two meet, moans when he sees how easily he’s slipping in. How well he fits.

“Want me to cum in or out?”

You don’t answer, head rolled back. He nods, “I’ll cum in.”

And he does. His whole body shakes, having to hang his head down as his hips jerk, the grip on your hand tightening so hard it hurts. Makes you wince, but he doesn’t notice. He has to let go of your hip and grip the bed sheets, gripping them just as violently.

You don’t get to watch him slip over the edge long because his own release triggers your, forces your mouth wide into a silent moan. Your thighs shake, and your unoccupied hand moves to his back where you grip his flesh hard, drawing blood. You feel like the gates of heaven have opened and graced you with the sight of life. Of air, of love.

Pleasure so intense you feel yourself give off a wrecked sob, something that rips through your throat and out into the room. You keep repeating Remmick’s name, unable to think of anything else or anyone else. No one else is there to thank. So you thank him as well.

Grab him by the jaw and force him to kiss you, whispering thank you’s against him, all of which he swallows down.

Neither of you say anything, too caught up in the moment. You stop kissing his lips and kiss everywhere else on his face; his cheeks, chin, nose, forehead. Anywhere.

And he lets you. Lets you softly coax him back down, to this moment. To you.

Lets you softly caress him and hold his hand, like it’s his first time too. Mind as well be, given how long it’s been since he’s had this. This intimacy.

This weird love neither of you can quite name, but lingers. Lingers like sweat, sex and hormones. Doesn’t suffocate but coddles you both, forces you two to take deep inhales of each other.

To run your fingers over flesh, dead and alive, and just lay with it.

Sink it in, and don’t spit it out. Like you did. Like he did.

You ain’t leavin, and he ain’t getting mean any time soon.

So, he stays the rest of the night.

[meltingmidas]

Coachella Rut

Paring: Idol!Hongjoong x Non Idol!Reader

CW: DomJoong/SubReader, Joongie is aggressive :))), pinv, unprotected sex (don’t do this plz this is not sexy!), creampie, mentions of marks and bruises, degradation, pls lmk if i missed anything!

WC: 920

Midas's Notes: So I literally started this right after watching the Coachella stream.. holy shit. Joong really did something to me and idk if I’ll ever be the same. Is there possibly a Mingi one in the works? Maybe. Uhhh this is NOT edited cause I’m too tired and this is just raw horniness so please enjoy (and excuse) this messy fic! PS also didn’t have a fuckin clue what to name it so enjoy the random title <3

🔞 Below 🔞

“Fuck Joong, slow doowwwn- ugh please!” You whimpered as he roughly pounded into your abused pussy, your legs over his shoulders, his arms beside your head. He’s been at it for nearly 2 hours now, rejecting your every single orgasm, giving you no time to rest. Your neck is littered in bruises, cheeks red from his previous slaps, eyeliner dragged down to your jaw. He’s always like this after a concert; but for some reason Coachella has him in a rut.

He’s aggressive, raw, and borderline psychotic. A wild smile plastered on his face, the shitty red dye running down his face over his eyes and around his cheeks, down to his chin and neck. He locks eyes with you as he brings his hand up to roughly hold your jaw, your cheeks uncomfortably squishing together. “You are fucking mine, got it? Your heart, your soul, your thoughts, your pretty pussy, everything. You belong to me. Yeah?”He whispers out, inches away from your face, he’s movements never faulting. You nod, and mewl out a small “Yes sir” before he gives the corner of your lips a small kiss and returning to the side of your head, giving light nips to your neck. Hongjoong looks straight out of a horror movie; and it’s fucking sexy.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by a particular hard thrust, kissing your velvety sweet spot inside you, making you sing his name like it was a prayer. “You look so fucking good underneath me. All fucked up on my cock, yeah? You can’t get enough of me, can you?” He grunts out, his voice course from the previous show he put on. You nod eagerly, your nails scratching at his shoulders, bound to leave your mark all over him. “Yeaah that’s right slut. Tell me how good I am.” You moan loudly at his request, surely others would hear (not that you cared), starting to attempt to form a sentence. “Cock feels to-fuck feels too good Joong. Need you to fuck me harder. Please!”.

He chuckles deeply, heavy into your ear, soft grunts and pants leaving his lips. “You feel so fucking good, you were made for me, whore.” You scream out his name as he starts fucking you faster; harder than he’s ever gone before. You whine and whimper, begging for your release, “Please Joong- pleasepleaseplease fill me up sir, I need it so bad. Need your cum inside me so bad.” Hongjoong moans loudly in your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. He lifts up to look at you, the fully sits up, your lower half now slightly lifted up off the bed thanks to your legs still over his shoulders. He gives you a wild smirk, eyes dark and full of love and lust. His hands find the plush spot of your hips, nails digging his shape into it. You whine, tears spilling out as you keep your babbling pleas for his seed. “Fuck- such a good girl, asking so politely for my cum.” One hand moves from your hips and finds your clit, your eyes shoot open and a drawn out moan leaves your lips, a new spark shoots up your spine and your release edging closer and closer.

He grunts, his thrust growing sloppier and harder, you can feel him twitch inside you as he gets closer. “Gonna make you mine sweetheart. All mine- fuck.” He peers down at you, a smile and his signature laugh, “Cum for me, doll.” That was all you needed as you find yourself twitching, hips bucking up into his, you feel your walls convulsing around his, feeling your sweet slick run down to your ass. He moans, voice scratching as a string of “shit” leaves him, as you feel hot ropes of cum fill you up. You whine, feeling so full of him and his milky cum. “So so good. Fuck you’re mine. Mine all mine..” he whispers out, more to himself, as he pushes his final spurts of cum inside you.

You look at him through your wet lashes, admiring the scene of his sweat drenching him, basking in his post sex glow. He catches your eyes, a soft smile leaving his lips as he leans down to meet yours. Hongjoong gives you a soft, gentle kiss, completely different to the ones you received earlier. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t do too much did I?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you, a mix of both your cum oozing outside of your puffy pussy. You shake your head, “No, not at all Joongie. But holy shit, I don’t think I can get up after all… that.” You laugh, and you hear him quietly joins you. “Here.” You look over to find him handing you a glass of water (that he already prepped beforehand, what a gentleman), and a towel in his hand beside you. You gladly take it, shaking as you hastily take a sip. You feel him gently lift one of your legs, softly patting and wiping you off. “I’ll start you a bath, and we can take one together. Or would you rather eat first? Which sounds good?” He quietly asks you, throwing the towel to a dirty clothes hamper and grabs your hand to give it a kiss. You giggle, “Bath, then food, please.” He nods, slowly rubbing your knuckles in his hands. “Sounds good sweetheart.” He gets up to start your bath, you sit up, sipping your water and wondering if you should get chicken or a burger.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

First of all, Loveeeeee your work SO MUCH!! Your works are so comforting to me. Your writing is phenomenal every time. I’m not even really a Stan girlie (Ford girlie for life) but I still read your stuff with Stan because it’s too dang good to skip.

✨ANYWAY: I loved your Stan and Ford reacting to reader getting hurt post. I was curious if you had any thoughts on how they would react to you getting hurt specifically during an *intimate* situation if you will. ✨

Once again, LOVE your work! Don’t feel obligated to answer this if you’re feeling too stressed or overwhelmed at the moment 😌 take care of yourself above all else

𐔌 . how Stan & Ford react when you use your safeword or get hurt during intimacy .ᐟ ₊ ꒱

a/n: idk if it’s the universe or what, but literally right after finishing my last hcs i had this little thought like “hmm what would Stan & Ford do if you used your safeword??” and THEN. i kid you not. i got TWO asks about it!!! i have some mental connection with you people or what?? you are literally reading my mind!! AND THANK YOU SO MUCH SWEETHEART, FOR UR KIND WORDS. im so so happy u like my stuff<333 uve lifted my spirits so much rn <33

another ask said: How would stan and Ford react to their so getting hurt during sex? Nothing serious maybe they bump their head in the headboard of the bed or smth lol

STANLEY

♡ oh damn. Stan knows he’s big, and he knows he gets carried away, especially when you ask for it. when you say “harder” he takes it personally. that man pounds you non stop if u let him

♡ you flinch just a little, and he sees it. and it hits him like a brick wall. he was doing so good, he was so into it, he thought he was making you feel good and now you’re wincing and it’s like the floor drops out

♡ the instant the safe word leaves your mouth, no matter how turned on and panting and deep he is inside you, he freezes, “whoa, whoa. sweetheart, sweetheart, hey” his voice would change in a heartbeat. hoarse and full of fear. he’s yanking back, sliding out so fast it’s a little messy, grabbing you like you’re made of glass

♡ next thing you feel is how both hands of his are cradling your face, one sliding over your back protectively, his thumb stroking your temple. you’d feel how hard his heart’s slamming in his chest because it scares the shit out of him that he could’ve pushed you too far. “you’re okay. you’re okay. fuck, i’m sorry. talk to me, honey, please, i’m right here, ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Stanley would not care if he was still hard or close. nothing. all of him would go into comforting you, wrapping you up in his big arms, rocking you side to side a little, kissing your forehead over and over

♡ later when you're calmer he’d probably be like ”shit, got carried away, didn’t i? fuckin’ old dog like me shoulda known better.”

♡ but he's also MEGA PROUD OF YOU. making sure you feel safe, adored, and so, so good for knowing WHEN to use your safeword.

♡ “you did perfect, sweet thing,” he’d murmur against your temple, “you tell me anytime it’s too much, okay? that's good, good. that’s my smart, fuckin’ perfect baby.” while stroking ur hair <3333

♡ if you're hurt from him reaching too deep (we all know he will) and you whimper like “too deep, Stan, c-cant. your too big” HIS FIRST REACTION IS FEAR. “oh SHIT, baby. did i hurt you?? fuck fuck, we’re stoppin’. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to” he physically recoils from you. freezes up with this overwhelming rush of horror and guilt, eyes huge like a kicked puppy. cupping your cheek with his hand still warm from where it was on your hip a second ago

♡ but also. . . if you go “it just went too deep, hurt for a sec, baby, please continue” and give him a half-lidded look through your lashes??? OH THAT OLD MAN WILL BE DOWN BAD!!! he’s like “wait. you’re tellin’ me i got that far in you? i’m that big?” and you’ve created a MONSTER. he goes from worried boyfriend to puffed-up cocky perv in five seconds!!

♡ uhhh will later brag about how he “tapped that cervix by accident” but still, next time he’s gentler. slows down and watches your face more. asks “this okay? this angle better?” every couple minutes. he learns and listens. he’s rough only if you want it <3 Stan is obsessed with making you feel safe

♡ sometimes you end up squashed under his full chest when he gets overexcited. just absolutely buried in chest hair, gold chain, his weight. and when you squirm, groaning, “babe, air, i can’t breathe,” he yanks back, mortified.

“m’sorry! i’m crushin ya, huh?” and then starts kissing your face all over like you’re a lil pancake he flattened <3

♡ but Stan can also go too fast and you get overwhelmed, so suddenly you’re a little dizzy, overstimmed. he probably notices it not by the sounds but by your grip, when your fingers curl too tight on his shoulder, or your thighs twitch too sharp. he knows and stops, breathing ragged, and Stan just presses his forehead to yours. “you need a break? talk to me, baby. don’t try to take more than you wanna.” his voice is gutted, yeah, he feels guilty even though you begged him to go harder in the first place

♡ but then he rubs your clit real slow instead <33 fingers soft and gentle, praising you, kissing your shoulders and neck, “lemme getcha there without makin’ it worse, ‘kay?”

♡ when his back gives out mid-thrust, he just pauses, winces, and goes “okay hang on. hang on. fuck. my back.” honestly he gets so vulnerable and cute that way, you can't help but giggle softly. “don’t laugh at me,” he murmurs, still inside you, trying to twist his hips, searching for the least painful position. “do you need to stop?” you ask. “what? no, absolutely not,” he grunts, rolling his shoulders although his face obviously speaks otherwise. “i just need a second. maybe a pillow. and a painkiller. and a heating pad. and— don't look at me like that, i’m still hot.” you kiss his forehead and tell him he’s the hottest man alive <333

♡ aaaahhhhg im going insane i CANT I NEED TO GET THIS MAN PREGNANT. JUST IMAGINE your getting railed like it’s the last night before the world ends. and it always starts in missionary so his gold chain keeps dangling in your face. it’s hitting your chest, sliding against your neck, catching in the sweat between your collarbones. Stanley doesn't wanna stop but he pauses, noticing this thing causes you trouble. “shit, babe, lemme take this off” and your hands are already on his chest like “no. don’t. it’s hot. keep it on.” that makes Stan grin. “yeah? y’like that?” so it’s a little tangled now. doesn’t matter. you damn love it because he looks even hotter like that. the gold flashes every time he moves, and you’re thinking about it for days. the chain’s choking him more than it is you but he’s too deep in it to care

♡ and when you bump your head on the headboard, Stan absolutely hears the bonk 😭 “what the—? sweetheart, y’alright?” honestly your not, but you're too horny to care. you’re seeing stars but trying to wave it off, and Stan’s like “nope. nuh-uh. i wanna be the one smacking my head, not you. i need your brain intact, ‘kay?” he guides you off gently and lies back instead, smiling at you. “get on top of me, gorgeous. ride me. no concussions this time.” you’re already climbing on, too cock drunk to care when he adds, “yeah, that’s it. take your time. safety first, baby”

STANFORD

♡ Ford is obsessed with feedback and you may not notice it but he keeps eye contact on you, even when your own eyes are closed. so if you're shifting your legs slightly? data. your breathing quickening? important. a stuttered whine? log it. that's cuz hes constantly analysing how you’re taking him because he’s so scared of going too far

♡ so when you gasp too sharply or your body jerks away, he panics. “w-wait, what was that? did i hurt you? please be honest. was it the angle? did i overstretch you?”

♡ imagine accidentally getting his glasses knocked crooked or smashing your forehead into his chin during a particularly frenzied thrust :(( he'll get so flustered and embarrassed. “i-it’s fine. i didn’t need to see that clearly anyway!”

♡ but i also think he's so attuned to you that honestly? he might notice something’s wrong even before you say it. but the second he hears the safeword, he’s pulling out, “darling! i’m stopping, i’m stopping“ his hands immediately go to your face, your shoulders, trying to touch you everywhere at once to calm you

♡ will check on you. like visibly scan your body with his hands and eyes probably saying something as “i’m checking for swelling. you feel tender here? here? what about this side?”

you’re like “Ford it’s okay i’m fine” and he says “NO I MUST BE CERTAIN.”

♡ even during most passionate intense sex, once you whimper your safe word or say “stop” he’d immediately withdraw, whispering “i'm sorry, i'm stopping. you're safe, you're alright, my darling” and he'd tuck you into his arms, checking your face, brushing your hair out of your sweaty forehead, kissing your cheeks

♡ lowkey his cock is deep-reaching so there’s a real chance he’s unintentionally hit your cervix at the wrong angle once or twice. you yelp, making Ford get a full existential shutdown. he wont continue. will sit on the bed with his face in his hands like “what kind of animal am i. . . i promised myself i’d never be reckless with you. . . i lost control. . . im horrible. . .”

♡ “i hurt you. that’s not acceptable. please, guide me differently”

♡ always kisses your hands first. then your forehead. then he wraps you up in the blanket, tucking it all around you to keep you warm even though he’s sweating too, whispering, “it’s alright, sweetheart. you’re safe. i promise you, you're safe with me.”

♡ has definitely tried to apply pressure to your hips or thighs to help reposition you and ended up giving you a bruise :(( ouchh he feels so much guilt!! will leave a handwritten note to you later that says “i saw the mark. i’m so sorry. i’ll be gentler. i love you.” because he gets too shy or awkward to tell you it in real life

♡ and if we're talking about clumsy sex. . . hmmm. Ford has zero business being that hot and that stupid when it comes to lab safety during sex

♡ so when you’re half-stripped on his cluttered workbench, legs around his waist, moaning into his shoulder and there’s a glowing crystal under your ass or some quantum device two inches from your foot, you both don't give a fuck because well, you just want to fuck each other. or make love as how Ford calls it. but that's the problem because when you lean back and suddenly SCALDING HEAT— your palm lands on a freshly soldered piece of alien tech, you yelp.

♡ he freezes and stops moving, asking “what happened. what did you touch. where. tell me exactly which object it was. does it have residue? how hot? do you feel faint?” already running to the emergency first aid kit

♡ then Ford is already holding your hand under the faucet. “you got minor surface heat exposure. i’m sorry. i should’ve cleared the workspace”

♡ but he learns quick! for example, you scrape your leg on a weird lab corner or get a bruise on your hip from a bad angle?? next time he gently positions your limbs, holding you, while pressing inside, kissing your cheek, “does this feel aligned? what about now? no strain? optimal angle?” so yep <33 you get chart-level care. but also intense eye contact the whole time, Ford gets even more tender when you’ve been bruised. your pain makes him want to worship you twice as hard

♡ believe me, he takes this seriously. might even start reorganising the lab after you leave. his smart ass probably thinks of making a “safe sex zone” in the corner with blankets and lead-free surfaces. pervert

♡ sex in the forest while anomaly hunting? Ford finds it so damn hot. but you both forget its literally dangerous too. and not because of the anomalies or some dangerous animals. what's worse is when he presses you up against a tree and forgets it’s covered in sap :') now your back is sticky, your hair’s tangled in pine needles

♡ hes so into the outdoors you’re getting laid where deer nap. or maybe it's some suspiciously lumpy patch of earth? but the result is: you’re getting laid on the ground. everything is good and sexy until your bare knee finds a rock, making you wince, “ow. that’s- there’s a literal rock, Ford. hurts :(” AND FORD IMMEDIATELY GOES “my darling you’re about to be on my coat” he shrugs it off, spreads it beneath you with, gets leaves in his hair though. but stays so focused, whispering in your ear, “i’ll carry you back if you can’t walk” because he knows you can't walk straight for some time after he's done with u. but he says this while literally having twig scratches on his shoulderblades :')

♡ and about back pain. . . he will NOT admit he’s hurting, not a single word. but halfway through he starts going weirdly slow and unsure. knowing your man's age and health, you go “is your back okay?” and Ford tight-smiles, saying “everything’s fine” but it's not because then you move a little and he flinches. turns out he threw out a vertebrae ten minutes ago and was trying to “focus through the discomfort” so yeah. . . eventually collapses and goes “ow ow OW, darling, please get off get off im gonna pass out.”

♡ not gonna lie, but you also love to give him head when he's working in his lab, meanwhile you take him in ur mouth, being under his desk. and yeah, shit happens. you bump your poor head on the bottom of the desk. hard enough to make a dull thud sound and jolt his whole spine. Forc gasps. “are you alright?! my love, did you hit your skull? do you feel disoriented?!” his hands are suddenly in your hair, on your cheeks, checking your pupils. “i should’ve made a better clearance. why is this desk shaped like this, it’s unsafe!” he looks at you and thinks, ur poor thing. he should’ve thought this through. you’re too precious to be bonking your head down there. no more injuries under Ford's watch!!

♡ so next time, when you’re back between his legs, eyes locked on his face while your mouth drives him insane, his big hand slides down. Ford finds the exact spot you bumped your head last time and he keeps it there, resting on the crown of your head, fingers curving protectively around it, shielding you. “there. right here. good. safe.”

♡ if you bump your head on the wall / shelf / headboard, Ford instantly goes into guilt. “no no no, we’re stopping. ill never forgive myself if u bruise. i love that head. u use it for thinking” you’re dazed, naked and being wrapped in his coat while he mutters something about using a pillow. then kisses your temple. “im so sorry. i can, well, i can pleasure you with my mouth. that doesn’t involve blunt force trauma.”

[isasweetie]

prissy dealing with rafey drunk?!

k im sorry this is soo cute but idk if i did it justice !!! hope u like it nonetheless <3

(cw — sexual insinuations and actions, mdni!!!)

you weren’t used to this. usually, you were the one getting taken care of. you were the one who needed to be supervised, and you enjoyed having a ‘bodyguard’ of a boyfriend who was constantly watching over you.

unfortunately, one faithful night, you were brought down to earth when you saw rafe wasted and remembered that a relationship goes both ways.

you were at rafe’s house for a party he was hosting. the lights were flashing pink and orange, and it was packed in the house and the backyard. it felt like every single person in kildare was here.

you whine and set down your drink when you see rafe talking so loud he’s practically yelling. seeing him so passionately talk about golf or your tits to a buddy was a telltale sign he’s drunk. he has no filter, and he wants everyone to hear him. he reminds you of an obnoxious man on a podcast when he’s like this.

you stomp over to him, and he turns around instantly when he hears your heels on the hardwood of his house. if he was a dog, his ears would have perked up as if he heard his owner come home.

“rafe,” you whine once more, because you were not in the mood for this. “i can hear you from across the room,”

he snickers, that boy-ish kind of sound that happens when he knows you’re upset, and he thinks it’s cute that it’s because of him. “whaddya mean, huh? you got good ears or somethin’, that what you’ve come to tell me?” he slurs, teasing you as he gently pulls at your hoop earring, making you paw him off. his hands land on your waist as he grins down at you.

“you’re so drunk,” you sigh. you’re about to offer him some water, or maybe a gag so he shuts up (if only), when he’s distracted again by a buddy, already talking right over your head, his gaze leaving you. you snap your manicured fingers in his face to get his attention back.

“hey, fuckin’ princess over here, huh?” he pokes at your cheek. he’s so touchy and pokey when he’s drunk. “wasn’t even doin’ shit and here i am getting scolded,”

“can i get you some water?” you ask, ignoring him as he drunkingly smiles down at you and uses both his hands to squeeze your cheeks together.

“heh, you’re cute like this,” he snickers to himself at your squished face.

you hold his wrists. “raaafe, stop, gonna ruin my makeup,”

he lets go. “oh, your makeup?” his voice is loud as he teases you, asking the sarcastic question as if what you said is crazy. “yeah, yeah, it’ll be ruined tonight anyway when i’m slamming into your tight pussy—“

his voice is so loud, making you slam a hand over his mouth. “oh my god, shut up!” you scold, using an acrylic nail to poke his face, making him grumble as if that hurt. “everyone heard that!”

“hey, what? s’the truth,” he slurs, shrugging as he pulls you into his chest. “yeeeah, gonna go fuck my sexy girlfriend from behind tonight!” he exclaims into the crowd, as you push at him to let you go, because your face is in his chest. he stumbles beside him on his feet, taking you with him. you squeak, and he regains his balance and snickers, kissing your hair repeatedly.

“you’re gross,” you huff, but there’s no anger behind it. “come to the kitchen with me please, i’ll get you water?” the only reason you’ve been repeatedly offering water is because that’s what he always offers when you’re wasted.

“uhhh, i’ll drink a glass if you come upstairs with me after this.”

“fine. deal.”

he chuckles again and lets you go for a second, only to wrap an arm around your shoulder instead as he leads you to the kitchen. you huff because all his weight is on you.

you get him to sit down, and he stumbles into a stool on the kitchen island. you get him a glass of tap water, to which he instantly rejects, because he wants the nice spring water in the fridge. god, he’s such a cameron.

you roll your eyes but comply nonetheless, pouring him spring water in a different glass. he downs it in one sip, coughing as if he took a shot, because it went down the wrong pipe. you cringe a bit at the sound, truthfully hating every second of taking care of him. he’s embarassing you tonight, but maybe you’re just spoiled with the put-together side of rafe.

he instantly stumbles back to his feet, grabbing you by the waist again and practically dragging you upstairs. you follow, but it’s hard to because he’s so eager, walking so fast.

he gets you into his bedroom, the thing he was obviously wanting to do the whole night. it’s so easy to forget the ick you got from him tonight when he’s ball deeps in your cunt.

[calciferiguess]

algae’s family tree !! i’ll do full bodies for them too sometime im just lazy rn

if you wanna read some info on them v

(btw i’ve decided my wings of fire ocs aren’t apart of the og timeline)

first off we have her parents, tide and hurricane, tide is apart of the royal guard and hurricane is the seawings army general, though they both might be apart of something bigger... COUGH seawing mafia. whattt who said that.

anyways hurricanes voice claim for me is thor from the video game god of war ragnarok tehee

tides voice claim is kinda like captain price from call of duty mw but idk that might change

secondly we have albatross, the first born, well.. first adopted. or maybe there’s dragon surrogates ? i haven’t decided ? but yea albatross is a soldier. mayb it’s just cause it’s me but when i was going more in depth with his character he just seems like ctechnoblade to me

next we have the twinsss, current and coast, ngl i kinda imagine their dynamic like fred and george weasley from harry potter, like im not a potter fan but they give me the vibe of finishing each others sentences and saying shit at the same time

lastly we have algae of course, the runt of the litter or something, and currently in my universe she’s a student at jade mountain academy !! if you haven’t seen the other art

some more stuff uhhh

heights. hurricane is like fuckin huge.. like morrowseer or burn type huge. albatross is almost as big as him, he’s gettin there. then tide he’s a little shorter. then current and coast are like basically the same height. then there’s algae, very small, two apples tall

ough see i have a comic idea in mind for the origin of algae’s hatching day but ughhh ive got too many ideas planned that i wanna do im havin difficulty settling on one at a time aggaajjhj

[quinngefail]

You can answer this privately if you want but I wanted to know your opinion on apprentice Lawrence? Very so valid if you don’t like it coz different strokes for different folks and also coming from a place of genuine curiosity :0

Coz I got my idea of the whole Saw universe but I defo LOVE to hear others on their thoughts and ideas of the universe 👀

Okay lmao time to be a little hater on main

Putting a cut coz this got to be a bit long HSKS

But yeah uhhh. I completely despise it, I've said it across scattered posts here but truly and genuinely there is nothing in this franchise that I dislike more. It just makes my eyes glaze over so fucking fast, man 😩

Like. Putting aside any attachments I have to the character, the concept in itself is just so forced to me. Like ermmm wouldn't it be freaking crazy if we brought Lawrence back, but he's like kinda fr*cked up and evil now 😱 regardless of if it makes sense for his character or not 😱 it'll go hard fr, coz like dude HE'S FROM THE FIRST MOVIE!! and now we're on The Final Chapter so we have to do something crazy, so GUY FROM THE FIRST MOVIE IS BACK and you won't see it coming but he's evil now 😱 that'd be crazy fr!!!

And I know I'm much more biased towards stories of redemption, + I'm not gonna act like my opinion is fact or anything. But to me, it's just so frustrating that he has this whole arc in the first movie only for it to be thrown away in favor of something that feels so fucking abrupt and jarring for him 😔

And people can call me 'Too Ship-Brained' all they want, or that I'm into 'sanitized' content, but it's just. 1) I would feel this way regardless of chainshipping 2) I'm just personally way more interested in seeing someone trying to recover from the situation he went through; trying to grapple with the trauma and his new reality, while also taking the initiative to become a better person.

And idk people may look at that and be like "Oh so you're validating John's methods, then" but I feel like the statements "yes this did help me wake up to my flaws and how my actions affect others, and now I want to work to become better" and "but no one else should go ever have to go through what I went through" can co-exist, and I personally just. Do not see Lawrence taking the route he does in canon

Obviously he's made some horrible decisions (as we very clearly see in the first movie), and no amount of personal inner turmoil should excuse that. I do feel like he is a good person at his core though, but he had lost sight of how to be that person. And I'm just way more interested in seeing his journey to becoming that person and living as happily as he can over whatever the fuck is happening in canon lmao 😩

And like I don't doubt that there is an interesting story to be told with his canon self, and I also don't want to make anyone feel bad or belittled for enjoying canon. I also know there are also people who have put a lot of thought and care into headcanons and characterizations based on his canon self, and I don't want to just dismiss all that effort,, it's just not my cup of tea at the end of the day. And I'm very fine with people feeling that way about the way I prefer to characterize him :]

Idk. I see the whole tragedy that canon presents, but I'm just way more interested in exploring a different kind of tragedy with these characters 😩

I do try to keep this to myself, coz it's like. I'd rather just focus on creating what makes me happy vs. stewing over shit that frustrates me and taking that out on other people in petty ass discourse, y’know-

I've said it before but ultimately I'm just here to have a fun time, and even if I don't fuck with Apprentice Lawrence at all, I will still fall asleep and wake up all the same. At the end of the day these are fictional characters and my life will go on lmao

But yeah uhhh. Don't expect to see any Apprentice Lawrence content around here, I truly just cannot fuckin stand it so I choose to look away 🙌

I'm also a diehard Luke Skywalker fan in a world where that fuck ass sequel trilogy exists so like ignoring canon + entire movies is nothing new for me HESKGRKGK

Those are my thoughts though, thank you for reading if you made it this far :]

[theneighbourunderthebed]

Haha. Hi. Nice little headcanon but Janae is very much into geology and shit because!! Yippee!! Seismology is a subfield of that shit!!

Uhhh. Wouldn't it be fun if Janae and Chip were friends. Like. Idk how to fuckin write that but!!! Maybe Peter was friends with Chip before he befriended Janae so he thought that because they had similar interests, they'd be good friends :)!!

Something something Peter gives both of them cool rocks that they can nerd out over (and pretend are Super Cool Space Rocks™ because he needs to incorporate his own hyperfixations in there too!!)

Also, all of them would totally nerd out over dinosaurs. Those things? Awesome. These three kids would hyperfixate on dinosaurs so fucking hard it would be scary

[newtkive]

pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]

ch. 4 - agoraphobia and burger king on 5th street

summary: a personal experience provides a way for newt to connect to y/n.

warnings: strong language, mental health talk, depression, medication (its my literal prescription i mention oops this is like a self insert fr), mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

--

THE GLADE

[ 10:52 am ]

y/n: it’s official yall

drugs saved my life

tommy: huh??

minho: same

newt: wow, i’ve never seen your name on my screen before 12 pm

y/n: shut the hell up bitch

newt: ouch, touchy

minho: woah

touchy 👀

are yallll..?

y/n: you’re sick

tommy: are we going to ignore the drugs statement??

like hello are u ok ??

newt: you’re annoying minho

minho: yea <3 😊

notice how they didn’t say no

y/n: you guys just don’t understand how a girl like me needs beauty sleep..

and no we aren’t

gally: all that beauty sleep and ur still walking around with that mug.. yikes.

y/n: 😑

i hate you i haete you i dhateoyifu

minho: great she’s having a fit

y/n: no one cares about me

and you think i’m ugly

this is so sick

and you don’t even care that i’m on drugs

☹️😭😭😭😭 done.

newt: no one said that love

gally that was rude

minho: BRUHHHHH

here she goes

tommy: I CAREE????????

DO I NEED TO COMEGET YOU????

y/n: yes 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

before i do something crazy 😭😭💣

minho: THE BOMB IS WILD

tommy: stay where you are

i have your location

newt: uhhh

y/n: pause what

minho: tommy why would you admit to that

tommy: im On my way! what’s the issue

sorry autocorrect

y/n: WHY DO YOU HAVE MY LOCATION????

gally: can you guys shut the fuck up

minho: the drama queen is here 😍

gally: stop

alby: I have it on Life360, I imagine Thomas does as well. In fact I have all of your locations.

y/n: oh

i forgot about that app..

minho: i didn’t. i get a notif that newt’s phone is at 5% all the goddamn time

even tho he said he deleted it

newt: just turn it off then

i redownloaded it don't track my app intake

minho: no it makes me feel less lonely

y/n: awwwww

idk how you do that newt

newt: do what?

y/n: not charge your phone

if my phone gets below like 15% then the monsters will get me

tommy: omg me tooo 🥹

newt: i was about to say you sound like tommy.

tommy: don’t say that!

she’s on drugs i don’t want to sound like an addict 😔

newt: she isn’t on drugs thomas

tommy: she literally said she is newt :/

5 mins and i’m there y/n

y/n: are you actually fr

thomas..

we live very far away sweetie

newt: i mean

if you were in trouble you don’t think we’d come get you?

tommy: ^^

but life360 says you’re at the burger king on 5th

minho: no that’s me LOOOL

y/n: NEWTTT ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

tommy: wtf

i’m the one who’s coming to get u

why does he get the credit

minho: no tommy you’re coming to get me

tommy: oh yippee i get to see my friend 🤗

newt: ewwwwww

y/n: EWWWWW

tommy: OH STOP IT

y/n: why burger king of all places min

minho: why drugs of all things y/n

gally: she’s not doing drugs are you guys fuckin insane

y/n: yes i am

it’s 10 mg of fluoxetine 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ONCE A DAY!!!!!!

IM ADDICTED

newt: no you aren’t, 10 mg is the smallest dose

minho: told y’all she was on drugs

y/n: ???????

minho: over the year

you’re too hyper to not be on some crack shit

tommy: oh stop that’s not nice.

newt: it’s not drugs like that minho stop.

tommy: uhoh he brought out the . at the end

y/n: it’s just for anxiety cuz i can’t leave the house without going into a breakdown

minho: she got acrophobia

told y’all she was mental

newt: what the fuck are you talking about

tommy: oh i know that word

fear of spiders 🕷️

minho: wtf no

fear of outside

y/n: i’m not afraid of outside

newt: that’s agoraphobia you fucking dumbass

y/n: 😍

i did NOT mean to send that lol oops

newt: ??

oh, okay

minho: when he’s a know it all 😍

when she’s agoraphobic 😍

y/n: when he’s at burger king on 5th because he has no food in his fridge and can only afford a $1.99 whopper with the coupons from the newspaper 😍😍😍😍

minho: 😒😑

newt: LMFAOOOO

GOOD THAT

minho: british people be so annoying

saying shit like gormless minger and good that be sooo real rn

newt: i have never said gormless minger in my whole 26 years of life.

y/n: you just did bro

newt: call me bro again

y/n: bro

brosive

brother

stepbro

minho: laughed until i saw the last msg :/

newt: 😑

y/n: ok youre the perverts

minho: cant you take your prozac and turn back to normal now

y/n: so you DO know what it is..

gally: wym 'back to normal' like there was smth before this??

y/n: real i been like this for life

tommy: i got whopper and two large fries and mozzarella sticks

newt: wow

y/n: wow just call him a fatass newt.

newt: i would never, stop

y/n: 2 large fries is kinda crazy tho

tommy: i have to get enough to share with my friend

minho

gally: surprised you have friends

tommy: yeah you are not one.

gally: RUDE?

y/n: WELL LMFAO

minho: i literally already ate also gally ur not my friend either

newt: same

alby: same

gally: well why tf am i in here

y/n: well you're my friend!

gally: great.

y/n: not with that attitude..

tommy: y/n you're ok though right??

y/n: yes tommy im fine sweetie

go eat your food

tommy: okay i wish you could share these fries with me

y/n: me too :(

minho: i don't

big back would eat em all

y/n: i actually hate you

__

newt

[ 11:45 am ]

newt: hey

y/n: hiii :D whats up??

newt: idk why but this feels like secretly texting you across the room at a party

y/n: actually tho

picture me giving u a look from across the room

newt: you would blow our cover immediately

i just wanted to let you know if you needed any like,, advice or something with your new medicine i'm here for you. i take the same stuff on top of lexapro

y/n: oh really?

newt: yeah i do

y/n: newt :( thank you

i am a bit nervous to start it tbh

newt: i understand, i was too

but hopefully it'll change things for the better

y/n: i hope so

i didn't realize you dealt with anxiety n stuff

newt: more than you know

you aren't the only one and you aren't alone w it

y/n: you're sweet newt, thank you

newt: don't mention it :))

sorry the smiley was creepy

y/n: lmao no i like it

if you need to talk or anything too i’m always here

newt: yeah?

y/n: of course ): you’re my pookie

newt: one day you gotta let go of that word lmao

y/n: but you love it tho

newt: you tell yourself that

actually are you free rn?

y/n: yeah! i’m just about home what’s up?

newt: i’m bored so pick up the phone

y/n: NEWT LMAO

ok fine 😒

[djevelbl]

I sat for a second staring into my phone and pondering the blorbos bc of a shitpost and huh. Branzy really IS very much 2econd 2ight 2eer (that was fun, goodbye.) by Will Wood coded isn't he??? like, most if not ALL of the song is SO him that it's INSANE. this only happened once before to me and the previous guy can't be my blorbo anymore bc of.... reasons, so I'm happy to have another silly little guy replace him in being SO coded after one of my favorite Deranged Songs /vpos

Ramble up ahead btw, read at your own risk

you KNOW the ramble is getting serious when I do the weird Tumblr Post Partition Thing AND went from writing it on the phone to WRITING IT ON THE PC (any lengthy post I write EXCLUSIVELY on the pc bc it's more fun and comfy for me lol)

The only line I can't in good faith say I relate 100% back to Branzy is LITERALY the second one, which is a bummer lmao — "Screaming at the top of my lungs in the confession booth" but like. I'm throwing it out there for any other, more veteran Branzy fans to go rabid over as I have and maybe even also discover how it could be Branzy-ified bc I truly believe the WHOLE SONG can be Branzy-ified lol

SO ANYWAYS. MORE SONG LYRICS !!!!!

I specifically came to this whole thing bc of the fourth line in the song, "The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to" bc YES??? THAT'S SOOO BRANZY CODED?????? like the amount of fucked up shit /aff he's done in his videos is INSANE I mean he DID make a video where the WHOLE. PREMISE was breaking 100 irl laws in the Afterhours SMP lmaooo also I'm kinda tempted to break out the fuckin LYRIC MEANINGS for this as well — hmmmm...

fuck it, we live only once and life is too fucking short/shitty to have hangups over going insane about our little guys

So yea, fourth line is all about temptation, choices and a careless sentiment as one takes full responsibility for their actions — the Devil might've offered you riches, love, security in exchage for someone's head, but ultimately you're the one who takes that step forwards to answer the siren's call; Will Wood sings here about temptation and how, at the end of the day, you're the one acting upon that temptation, how that's a thing only you can be responsible for, and how he himself doesn't care much for the guilt the word "sin" carries with it; "we'll live the way we want, and we don't care if it's considered 'sin.'" — MarsAndTheGreatExpanse on the lyric explanation in Genius (yes, Imma be quoting some of these people. yes, I'm taking it THAT seriously). All of this is very much like Branzy to do: the most recent example I think would be the Candyland mod video, where he has SUCH BEEF with gingerbread men that it's just pathetic /aff at this point lmao — he goes around killing them and hating on them SO. HARD it's really funny. Of course, there's a difference between Will Wood singing this and Branzy fucking, idk, wanting Jimmy the Gingerbread Guy's guts spilled all over the Candyland floor in an overexaggerated candygore that would belong to none other than uhhhh fucking. idk danganronpa??? but like, suspend your disbelief and be down to clown with the insanity here for a minute, thanks <3

There's also his 100 IRL Crimes In Minecraft video, where he sold Kaboodle's soul WITHOUT HESITATION the moment he was prompted for it lmfaoo (he also did racketeering, extorsion, murder, created a fucking GANG WITH REDDOONS??? spread difamation [that really fucking wasn't. no matter what the cult leader uhhh wither skulls guy was saying], was distributing illegal substances I'm pretty sure, impersonated a cop, idk what else I might rewatch that video actually). There's also his 100 Hearts Factory, where he UNIRONICALLY made a fucking child labor joke with the villagers, and was busting up unions in there at some other point as well. There's whatever in hell he has with Clown bc if Branzy is UNETHICAL AS ALL HELL /silly on his own then with Clown they're both HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE, NO GOOD AT ALL /silly and I love that for them actually.

"My grip on my secrets slipping while I'm speaking in tongues" really just reminds me of Branzy's bloodlust and how everyone seems to fucking forget it's there???? even if it reminds me of it in like, a roundabout way

"Take it with a pillar of salt, H.A.L.T, it's not my fault" is all about how his words are non-literal, how he shouldn't be taken as such, and how he's the way he is from birth and he can't really change it — Branzy doesn't try to hide who he is and how he feels about things (it's his greatest asset) and he also doesn't let anyone tell him how to be (unless you're a murderous clown but like, his simping is a WHOLE different can of worms; I'm not a couple's therapist lol, I'm not paid for this shit), he just kinda is; the only reason he isn't an active threat is because he doesn't care for PVP enough to become better at it. The onlu hangup I've got with this line is the H.A.L.T thing — it's apparently a form of mindfulness recommended to people who have a hard time taking care of themselves, and it stands for Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired (might have to look into it for myself,,,,, anyways)

"I'm cut from a different kind of meat" is Will saying he's different, in a completely separate category to everyone else, and paired with the next few lines the implication becomes very obvious: you can't understand me, and you're not meant to. Branzy is so hard to put down into words sometimes because he's genuinely many things all at once: he's impulsive but plans are important to him, he's cunning but SO damn stupid, so harmless yet one of the most dangerous people I've ever seen /vpos /aff, he's kooky and charming and fun yet knows how to be intimidating if he so wishes to be, yet he's also SO pathetic wet cat man coded that it becomes IMPOSSIBLE to be scared of him,,,,,,,, GOD "I'm cut from a different kind of meat" you are, Branzycraft, you really are,,,,,

"More than you can chew, hard to swallow me" this is all about being more than people can take, more than people can understand, more and more and more and more. And honeslty he is: he's hard to put into words because his personality pulls him in all different directions and shapes, he's bigger than he lets on, more all-encompassing and somehow formless in how difficult he can be to pin down and describe — I like to think, if Branzy were ever to sing this (a demon boy can only dream sometimes,,,,,,,,), I imagine he would sound SO cheeky and teasing, kinda smug yet chill. I also love the combo of bit off more than you can chew and hard to swallow pills sounding like that

"Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis, call it morbid curiosity" there's something about the line, how it's written and sung that gives me a sense of flippancy that goes really well with Branzy's insane yet really chill attitude. Also the whole "death and blood and gore, LifeSteal's essence and the birthmarks It imprints into It's players" thing of LifeSteal is just. PERFECT for the line idk idc I won't take any criticisms on this point <333

"How can I commit to reality, when my third eye's open and I like what I see?" using the third eye imagery here makes the line be about how Will Wood's imagination is so interesting that nothing real can compete, and thus he just. doesn't commit to any of it — Branzy goes by whatever he fancies that very moment, almost like he lives his own fantasy as he goes about life and honestly, I kinda wish I was him ngl

"Baby, I might be crazy but I didn't lose it, no I set it free" this one's mostly self-explanatory bc like, ALL LifeStealers ARE insane to some degree — you kinda NEED to be to survive in there; if you're not ALREADY, then the culture itself WILL claim your sanity. It's only a matter of time — so OFC this line fits Branzy, especially because he is SO carefree over how he is, who he is, careless of how that affects others and simply going about life like the deranged forest creature he was born to be

"I can't ignore what's under dance floorboards, the rhythm of my heart a dead-as-disco beat" in the explanation in Genius, people say this line might be a reference to Edgar Allen Poe's (yes, this went there. get used to it) "The Telltale Heart", where a murderer stores his victim under his house's floorboards and goes mad, imagining the corpse's heartbeat gives him away — honestly this kinda reminds me of The Patches Incident in a jester walks into an amusement park by hattrem on ao3 (GO READ IT. IT'S GOOD. IT'S GREAT EVEN. GO READ IT !!!!!!) — the contributors say Will Wood might've used the metaphor to suggest he's mover or inspired by his own madness or guilt, a sentiment I'm sure Branzy shares in how he briefly hesitates before going full throttle with whatever fucked up shit he's decided is funniest this time around

"But I still move my feet" here, Will is painting us the following picture: even through the guilt or pain he might feel about something, he keeps on going and keeps on dancing "move my feet"; Branzy never fully stops, he never gives up — he might change course, redirect, take a step back to think and plan, but he never stops. He jumps through the hoops and does all the dances, and he never stops.

"To slip out of this groove, I'm free" here Will Wood is succinctly summarising the point of the song: it's fine to be a little bit (or more like a LOT) crazy, to slip out of constraints and be truly oneself, regardless of how that looks like and Branzy fucking follows this like a mantra lol

I'm gonna lightly skim over the next two lines — "Now to row, row, row my boat over the falls" and "And maybe wake up from but a dream, yeah" — bc it's just a reference to the Row, Row, Row Your Boat nursery rhyme, with a more cynical spin; something something the cheerful initial demeanor ripped appart at the hands of that bloodlustful beast living in his veins and caressing his psyche, in one swift swoop and almost instantaneously, just to disappear once again into his bloodstream and be flushed out.

Also I'm gonna talk about the whole chorus right now, and not mention it again unless it's relevant to any other lines I might be discussing:

"I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

I didn't lose it, babe

There wasn't much to find

I'm just a psycho, babe

Come and go out my mind

I'm only passing through"

The way the lines are sung, so happy-go-lucky and carefree, so flippantly and cheerfully, it all reminds me so much of Branzy's persona — so cheery and showman as everything seems to fall apart around him, and it's a coin toss whether that's to his benefit or to his detriment; he doesn't let past alliances, teamups or enemies to deter him from what he wants and what he craves — he desires someone's demise? even if through elaborate traps, he'll get it. He's only here to have fun, to come and go as he pleases.

"If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see" this one goes hand in hand with the next one, so!: "You'd look through illusions, hallucinations, and lucid dream" there it isss! simply put, people wouldn't be able to take it all in if they saw what the character sees — Branzy must've seen a lot of fucked up shit during his three or so season run in LifeSteal, and considering Tubbo is going insane over the shit LifeStealers keep pulling in The Realm SMP (YOU WERE IN THEIR HOME AT SOME POINT?? YOU WENT INTO THE TIGER ENCLOSURE GIRLIEPOP. WDYM YOU'RE FUCKING SURPRISED THAT PANGI KILLED ALL BEES IN A 1K RADIUS FROM SPAWN???? THAT CLOWN HAD ALREADY PRESTIEGED ENCHANTING ONCE AND WAS ABOUT TO DO IT AGAIN???????? WHAT) I think these lines are appropriate not even just for Branzy, but LITERALLY any LifeStealer at that lmao

I'll be honest, I've got NOTHING for "And I know that meaning can be such a pretty thing to keep" and "But I got facts and I'm not afraid to use 'em, take the good with the bad, take off the back you make a new front" so uhhhhhh I'll.... improv something? uh. um. shit uh so uhhhhhhhh something something Branzy takes everything in stride, and manages to turn it into an advantage (like acquiring the scariest player in LS as his work husband)??????? yeahhhh that works

"Some days I'm glad that I am a madman and I'd rather be that than" and "An amicable animal, mild-mannered cannibal" are about preferring one's own brand of insanity over the gentle brutality of mainstream society — Branzy kills, like everyone in LifeSteal, and in that they're all a community, yet Branzy still prefers his contraptions and elaborate plans, the honey-sweets to his personal venus flytraps and brand of death over the constant betrayal and active manipulation, the orbital cannons, the battles to the brink, the ambushing of weaker players

"But I'm more level-headed and clever than ever and I'm getting better one forever at a time" is about embracing one's madness, and being better for it — Branzy, amongs other things, is a truly terrifying /vpos character whenever he desires to be because he embraces all the twisted, dark, immoral facets to his person without a second thought, and with this he's stronger than others could ever dream of being

"And if sick is defined by what's different, well then pull the plug out and let me die" I don't think LS!Branzy has ever had a problem with dying, even there's always something pushing him to seek survival — it hurts, you're one heart closer to a permanent death, but I don't think that has always perturbed him enough to lash out and become so desperate that he'd be willing to throw caution to the wind; in this, Clown and Branzy are equals, similar to each other, going onto the main stage and performing the same steps.

"Vice-versa, vice versus virtue" here Will Wood is comparing good and bad behaviors to each other, and while there's something of a truth to what the contributor said on Genius about the usage of vice-versa specifically ("The literal meaning of 'Vice Verse' is 'with the main items in the preceding statement the other way around.' In short terms, it means 'the other way around' Following the theme of the song, Will is saying he is the polar opposite of soiety, or he is 'the other way around' in society" — AceTheBowlOfCereal23) I still think there's more to that — paired with the rest of the line, it feels to me that it all speaks of interchangeably using "good" and "bad" as adjectives for Wood's behavior, in such a way that makes both words become almost meaningless; for there will always be someone out there who disapproves of who you are, regardless of what you're doing. Branzy has a similar outlook, of considering whichever thing is happening right now as "good" or "bad" purely based on his own perception, how it might be beneficial or not, instead of using a more socially accepted definition for each and every event he comes across — especially in LifeSteal he does this, where everyone is constantly terrified of Clown and wary of him, yet Branzy only sees good things in the guy

"Well who I am I choose through all the things I do" our actions define us, somehow, in some way, and Branzy picks and chooses which ones he allows himself to be called by: he constatly says he's incapable of killing, he's harmless! Have you seen him holding a sword? Yeah, killing him is like kicking a baby in Wallmart! yet he'd managed to collect AT LEAST 100 hearts for his Big Top Tent event that closed out on Season 5, simply because people like him.

"And if it rhymes it's true, but I hate poetry" for some reason I can see him saying this even if he 100% does not mean it and is only saying it for the bit — not all of these line connections need to be that deep tbh

"Now with my moral compass pointing south, going down" Branzy has a fucked up moral compass ever since LifeSteal, next line

"With no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no respect for reality" so uh. idfk dude. this line exists — connect it back to Branzy or don't, I don't think I can

"A tourist passing through" and "Well that was fun, goodbye" are the lines Will Wood added onto the chorus to create the outro, and they just kinda remind me that Branzy is no longer in LifeSteal, but is still so influential and important to the people who keep playing the server season after season,,,,,,,,,,

Whoa, infinitely long yap session be upon ye! this was fun! I don't wanna do it again anytime soon! (might do it with PrinceZam and the three different Idol by YOASOBI English versions I'm mildly obssessed over [the official one, Trickle's and Will Stetson's]) so uh. I hope y'all enjoyed this? Question mark? Anyways!

[southparkhcsocs]

Hii can you maybe do main 4+ butters and how they act when they are jealous? Maybe another boy is talking with you and maybe flirting idk btw I loveeeee your page🩷🩷🩷

I got you and i hope i did yous proud my bbs!

Stan Marsh

oh stan

well he thought it would be fun to take you to the gym

yass power couple goals

but he went to refill his water bottle for like 1 second

and some dude bro comes over "checking out your form"

Stan so wanted to punch the guy in the face

and like he totally would of but uhhh you know reasons!

so anyway he say's he's fine even though he's barely spoken since

a good couple hours later and our boy BANGING on your door

"am I not good enough for you!!?" "what?" "is it because I put on some weight? I'm tryign to lose it!" "Stan what are yo-" "i love you please don't leave mee...."

Dude fucking REAKS of booze

clearly drunk

clearly mad and sad and confused and scared

feels like absolute shit in the morning

Kyle Broflovski

oh oh oh

yall just out for a lovely meal couple of drinks

Kyle goes to pay the tab cause dude a fuckin gentleman

old fashioned type of guy

and when he see's some guy ogling you

he was about to fight

but this is a nice place

one of your favorites

so he's not about to get himself band

so just a little warning to the guy

maybe a little dressing down

Kenny McCormick

Let's be real

if he sees someone flirting with you

he's not going to stop them

your a worldie

but you need to be comfortable while other guys fucking gawk over you

right?

and oh whats that you feel???

Eric Cartman

Lets say Cartman doesn't kill the guy

at least not in front of you

dude gonna assert dominance

I mean it's technically your fault

why did you have to dress like that

did you want to piss him off??

anyway

he's gonna make sure the dude knows you are HIS

the audacity of this guy

Leopold "Butters" Stotch

aaaaaa

im sorry

he's not gonna get aggressively possessive

he's gonna stick to you like glue tho!

lucky he's cute.