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the-californicationist · 25 days

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Bone Deep

AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex

Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long.

You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all.

It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible.

John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house.

You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three.

“John?” You called out.

There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door.

You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen.

“John.”

“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around.

“John!”

“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.

“Okay,” you nodded, resigned.

It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog.

And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.

You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home.

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care.

You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall.

“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag.

“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”

He scoffed,

“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”

You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled,

“You know it’s not the socks.”

The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud.

So, you left.

Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space.

You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.

John: hey

You: hey

John: can i call

You: one sec

You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.

You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale.

But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.

“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort.

Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,

“I’ve been a proper arse.”

You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,

“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it.

“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”

You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,

“You are coming home, right?”

You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,

“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”

“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”

The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer.

The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat.

“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house.

The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again.

When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug.

You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek.

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone,

“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”

You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite.

“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying.

He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass.

“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”

His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them.

“I swear…”

He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.

“I swear…”

You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again.

“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses.

“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.

Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him.

Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss.

He groaned,

“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”

You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,

“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”

He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses,

“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”

You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it,

“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”

As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm.

“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected.

Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will.

However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell.

Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina.

You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces.

“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.

“Can we sit?”

“C’mere.”

John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst.

He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again.

He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,

“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”

“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath.

You saw the surprise dance through his expression.

“You sure?”

You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd.

Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him.

He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements.

Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.

You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave.

“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful.

“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #cod mwii #john price #cod #captain price #captain price x you #call of duty #captain price x female reader #captain john price x female reader #captain price x reader

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dreamlessimp · 11 months

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— poster

itoshi rin x reader | 0.9k

you go to his game, and he gets mad

your notifications for football games had gone from a necessity, to a minor inconvenience. at first, they allowed you to watch many of rin’s games. it was a way to get closer, and worked well enough.

when he left though, the alerts began to sting in a way that was ever so dull.

still, eventually, you were the fortunate receiver of a welcome surprise—rin would be playing near your house.

disappointing as it was that he hadn’t told you, you were already used to it. you’d begun to speak less and less as time quickly passed, so it served no surprise. still, you tried to cling to the hope that you’d grow closer yet again.

not long after receiving the game notice, you decided to make a sign, a poster of sorts. something to cheer his name, and remind him of yours.

after acquiring poster paper, you pulled open a marker and began the meticulous job of outlining his given name.

resisting the urge to add heats, stars, anything to take up space, you elected to simply adorn the still-white paper with words of wished luck and victory.

though, you quickly fell to the urges and the once crisp white paper was turned into a rainbow you weren’t exactly proud of, but were happy to look at.

the day of his game, you happily grabbed your poster and made your way into the stadium. your seat was close enough to the field that you hoped your probably-just-friend would be able to spare you a glance.

the minutes after his game proved a bigger surprise than you could have possibly considered. not only did rin exclusively seek you out—but he was mad. at you.

you blinked back your shock. “what?”

rin’s eyes widened and he scowled. “i asked why the hell you came.” his voice was far too cold for comfort.

“i’ve come to so many of your games rin.” you choked out.

“so? i’m asking you why.” he spat.

you were dejected. there was no sense or reason in his anger. it was so nonsensical that there was truly no point in clapping back.

“dammit rin.” you spoke quietly before turning around to leave, eyes as blank as rin’s were cold.

on the way back to your home, you throw away the sign. it’s just a coincidence that you chose the garbage bin outside of the home of itoshi rin.

hours later, rin texts you. ‘i’m sorry.’ he says. you’d have been shocked to find how much he meant it.

he hated his performance in the game. sure, he had scored, but it wasn’t the kind of goal that he wanted to score, the conditions were all wrong and it wasn’t right.

though, he despised his stupid anger at you even more. you had attended his game—which he’d never even told you about—with a sign. one that was obviously homemade no less, so clearly made by you and you alone unlike the so many printed signs he’d seen even that game alone.

he was, horribly stupid.

‘i’m sorry.’ you read from your phone. scoffing, you shut off the phone to sit on your bed, once again staring at the ceiling as you’d been doing for who knows how long.

whether you blamed yourself or rin, whether he had the right to be mad or you did, your mind was too thick to determine. what you knew though, was that you missed the rin you used to know so well.

soon, rin had a vague thought that he needed to stop his lonely pity party, and gathered up his garbage to throw away.

he absolutely did not expect to see that damned sign you made inside of his own garbage bin.

at the sight, the outside of his eyes filled with an unexpected liquid prompting him to instinctively reach up to scratch the pointless sensation.

in a haze, he threw in his trash and carefully picked up the largely undamaged sign. with it held carefully in his undeserving hands, he took it home.

rin took it into his room, where he propped it up on his dresser. from his position at his desk, he could just see it fall from the corner of his eye.

he walked back to once again prop it up, and stood as it wavered, and then fell once again.

realizing it would not stand on his own, with a glance at your large writing proclaiming his own name, he walked over to the side of his bed and propped up your colorful sign with the soft plushie of a character he did not recognize, that you had once given to him.

it truly made sense that the few sources of color in his room came from you.

allowing himself to dramatically fall back onto his bed, he gazed at his boring ceiling and waited for the minutes to tick by and for the dread to dissipate from his tired body.

you were wondering for possibly the thousandth time whether or not to respond to rin, when, yet again, you received another call.

letting it ring out, you finally decided to turn off your phone.

with your phone off, you missed the text he instantly regretted sending, but was entirely set on carrying out; ‘i’m coming over.’

#ssimpfics #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin angst #rin angst #blue lock itoshi rin #blue lock rin #blue lock #blue lock angst #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk itoshi rin #bllk rin #bllk angst

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astridthevalkyrie · 1 month

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a weak heart | rafayel x reader

“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!” How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny. Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.

cw: reader has she/her pronouns, fluff, light angst, rafayel being bratty but also down incredibly bad

word count: 1.4k

There’s a dip in the bed that alerts Rafayel to her presence. He’d already known she was inside, even though her footsteps were hushed. He’d heard her walk in and feed Reddie, and he almost gave up the vow he made to himself not to engage with her just so he could snark about how she was more invested in seeing the fish than in seeing him.

(Of course, she very well may have gone to the studio to look for him and decided to feed Reddie while she was already in there, but. He doesn’t want to be reasonable right now. He wants to be upset with her. And she gives him so little to get upset with because she is and always has been some kind of angel descended from the heavens with an embarrassingly weak heart, so he needs to take whatever chances he can get.)

A soft touch to the back of his neck is followed by a quick kiss to his cheek. “Rafayel?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I know you’re awake, Raf.” Well, his eyes are open so. Great observation, idiot. “You’re not even gonna talk to me?”

The window he’s staring through is so fascinating all of a sudden, all bright and stale with an afternoon light he’s painted a billion times. Literally a billion. That’s how old he is. One would think he’d learned to be patient in that time, but one would also think that after waiting for a woman for centuries, she could cut him some slack and not make him wait any longer.

(Not that she knows that but. Still.)

“It was really last minute.” She kisses his cheek again, hovering over him and he wants so badly to gaze up at her, because that will be something he’s never painted before—he’d title it Requiem For A Bland Thursday and Thomas would sell it for a couple hundred million and he’d tell her that and she would only ask him to buy her a rainbow popsicle because there isn’t a greedy bone in her body.

“I was going to text, Raf, I promise I was, but I’d pulled a night shift already and my phone was dead and Xavier and I both left our chargers at home, and we didn’t have a chance to stop and charge anyways.”

Always an excuse. Always a valid excuse that he can find no fault with. But it isn’t fair. The people she works with—Tara, Xavier, Captain Jenna who she’s definitely a little in love with—get her attention and her time every hour of every day. If there’s a mission to do, she’ll drop everything and do it. And Rafayel gets the crumbs, the vacation days and the after hours, whenever she remembers him enough to spare her time.

What’s worse than that is the fear. He doesn’t let it show through text, always opting to send whatever he thinks will make her smile, but everytime hours pass without a response from her, fear seizes his poor heart. All the twisted and cruel things that could possibly happen to her start playing on repeat in his head.

“Rafayel,” she pleads, tilting her forehead against his temple. “Please, look at me?”

His chest burns hot.

When he finally looks up, he finds he’s absolutely correct in his hunch. She presents like a masterpiece, hair mussed from whatever fights Xavier clearly couldn’t protect her from. Her eyes shine tiredly, lighting up when they gaze into his. And Rafayel’s heart releases a painful thump, thump, thump because if he could spend eternity with her looking at him the way she is now, he’d easily live the rest of his immortal life the happiest person in the universe.

She leans down and pecks his lips apologetically. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

(It’s what she always does.)

“It’s what you always do,” he says, not harsh but definitely blasé enough to make her wince. “Why should this time be any different?”

A sigh escapes her, and he starts to feel that old guilt again. To hold her up to a standard because he fell in love with two other versions of her, and to give her grief for being late as though she wasn’t doing an incredibly important job keeping people safe—it’s not exactly fair. To either of them, but specifically to her.

And yet, it’s not like he spends his time with her imagining a princess running through the sands calling his name. This version of her makes his heart pound all the same, whether she’s absolutely beating his ass at the card game in the cafe, or resting her head on his shoulder from behind while he paints, or when she’s in his bed just like this.

The biggest similarity is that damn sick bleeding heart.

“What do I need to do for you to forgive me?” She tilts his chin up with her index finger, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Rafayel could never imagine being spoiled like this even if he was to be sitting on the throne in Lemuria right now, with jewels and gold surrounding him and beautiful maidens offering their hands.

Somehow, this is more. Somehow, this is better.

“There’s nothing you can do,” he answers flatly, “and there’s nothing I can do. So let me be mad at you in peace.”

Her response is to brush the bangs from his forehead and drop a kiss to his forehead as well. “You make me feel like I’m in high school all over again,” she teases quietly, a small smile playing on the corner of her lips now. “My teenage dream.”

He groans. “Don’t—“

How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny.

Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.

“Is this my punishment?” His nose wrinkles. “To hear you sing terrible renditions of already overplayed songs?”

Her giggle is the real music to his ears. “You’re an artist, you should know talent when you hear it.”

“I do,” he insists, realizing too late that he’s giving in. The lightness in his stomach is a bit frightening too. This is the same woman who carved out his heart. This is the same woman who needed to do nothing but flutter her lashes at him to make him give in to her any request. If, tomorrow, she were to ask him to rip his own scales from his body and place the bloody pieces in her palm, he’d do so without question.

Her hand comes up to rest on his cheek and he leans into it with a soft sigh almost on instinct. Such power she possesses, over the God of the Sea, and she’s the only person who would never even fathom abusing it.

“You’re cold,” she murmurs, caressing his cheek. “Why do you always keep your house so cold?”

(So that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can—)

“It’s better for blood circulation.”

Her thumb gently brushes over his lower lip, like she’s mapping out her quest to treasure. “That’s like, objectively not true, Raf. My friend’s a doctor, he told me that cold is better for short-term pain and warmth is better for—“

“If you’re cold,” he interrupts, “get under the sheets.”

A brilliant, blinding smile lights up her face as she does just that, slipping under next to him and laying down at a slightly elevated level so she can tuck his head into her chest. Warmth runs through him like a flood, even the leather of her uniform is comforting because it’s smooth and light and smells just like her. Her lips press to the top of his head.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers, running her fingers through his hair, “I’ll do my best to text you and let you know next time, okay?”

And if she doesn’t, Rafayel thinks, curling into her more, they will still end up like this, quiet words and mutual teasing, memories of the past that he will forever be cursed by and she will never be burdened with, a heart that dances to the tune of her commands, wrapped up in each other, and absolutely nothing will change.

Because who really has a weak heart?

(It’s not her.)

#love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel #valkyrie stories

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fredwkong · 2 months

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Alphaworld File 3: Diary of an Alpha Transformation (1 of ?)

Click here to read Alphaworld in posting order.

An undated journal. It is heavily bedazzled on the covers, though many of the gems appear to have been scraped off or stepped on. There are several stains yellowing the coloured paper of the cover, mostly sweat.

Inside the front cover, there is a space where the owner is encouraged to write their name. Two names occupy the space, one on top of the other. The lower layer is written with a purple marker, neatly spelling the name “Ronaldo Herrera.” There are multicoloured sparkles drawn around the name, and glitter has been sprinkled over it. Some of the glitter appears to have been scraped off with a knife, and there is a 3 centimetre tear at the top interior of the page, as if someone was about to rip it out. On top of the first name, the name “RONNIE H” is scrawled in crude capitals using a pencil. The pencil was applied with sufficient force that graphite scrapes are visible from where they were brushed off the page.

Journal entries flow into each other without dating, but editors have split entries based on context and labelled them “Day One, Day Two, Day Three…” despite the fact that more than one day clearly proceeds between some entries. From this point onward, journal entries are transliterated directly, with marginalia and other notes on the text rendered in square brackets [] to distinguish them from the main body.

[Day One]

OMG, I’m soooo happy to be back on campus! Staying with my parents is such a bore! They don’t let me stream any of my shows, they say drag race is of the devil, and the town is so small that I’m, like, the only twink there. I can’t even get any dl dick all holiday because country guys are all totally masc for masc. My hole is toooootally desperate.

I’m so happy that Ollie across the hall got me this journal! He made it look soooo cute with all the stones! He’s, like, okay for a fellow bottom, even tho his massive crush on me is, like, totally obvious. Sorry babe, this dick is for decoration only lmao! Maybe we could get tag teamed by a big dick boy sometime, that’d be pretty hot. I've never bottomed alongside a transmasc dude.

Anyway, I just stopped at the dorm to drop off my suitcase and get out of my het drag, there’s a whole lotta frat parties starting tonight and if I wanna end my dry spell I’ve gotta be there! I just had to live my Sex and the City fantasy by putting down a few lines in the diary first!

[a doodle of an open-faced journal with scribbly lines on the page in rainbow colours]

[Day Two]

ZOMGGGGGGG [written in double-tall bubble letters across a quarter of the page, filled in with pink highlighter]

This term is gonna be SO AWESOME.

Campus is suddenly full of massive muscle men who are totally desperate for me! I was, like, totally the target of a dominance contest at the party last night, and it was SO HOT.

So I walk in, right? And I’m dressed in my usual, my lil slutty crop and my littlest shorts. Here, I took a pic before I left so you can see how cute I was.

Anyway, I’m cute, I’m obvious, I’m ready to have any guy absolutely wreck me. Like, last night, I would have taken a bicurious frat bro fucking me raw, my hole was so neglected. So I am a blaring neon sign: I’M A FAG [written in rainbow marker colours]

And as soon as I walk in, this GOD [a doodle of a massive man is in the margin, a perfect X shape covered in cartoonishly bulging muscles] comes up to me and is all, “Hey boy, I’m Nate.” He. Is. PERFECT. Gorgeous grey eyes, windswept dirty blond hair, a tank top hugging pecs the size of my HEAD. And his voice gets me tooootally weak in the knees. I can't believe he's LOOKING at lil ol me, even if I do look like a twinky slut.

But before I can even say anything to Nate, there’s another MASSIVE arm draped over my shoulder, and ANOTHER massive guy is whispering in my ear, like, “Name’s Lee. Want a drink?” I look over, and he’s just as hot as Nate, with shiny black hair and this perfect sexy smile like a J-pop star. But, like, if a J-pop star was 250 pounds of pure muscle and sex.

I swear all the air went out of the room. Suddenly, Nate and Lee were glaring at each other over me, and all these frat bros were staring.

BTW, when did all the frat bros get so cuuuute? Like, not as sexy as Nate and Lee, but they’re all totally cut this term and I think they’ve got some skincare going? Like I wanna go back sometime lmao.

Lee, like, GROWLED as he glared across me. I felt a li-ter-al rumble from his chest. Nate started totally flexing his big pecs, I thought his shirt was gonna shred in the middle. They didn’t even SAY anything, it was so totally primal. I think I got a whiff of Lee as he tucked me closer to his chest, and I realised he totally doesn’t use deodorant. He smelled totally HAWT.

Anyway, I have two perfect men fighting over me, and I’m not letting either of them go, so I go, “Boys, I promise my holes are big enough to share.” I totes flashed my dimples at them. [doodle of a smiley face]

They kept glaring at each other, but finally Lee was like, “I get his hole.” Maybe he, like, won the contest or whatever? Because Nate looked down at the floor and said, “Fine.” And I mean, fine with me! I love getting stuffed from both ends! What a way to come back from vacay!

We didn’t stay at the party long, just long enough for Lee to get me a drink and Nate to carry me around the dance floor a bit. I checked on Lee while we were dancing, and he was, like, totally making out with one of the frat bros. Like, a guy I knew was straight. I blew him freshman year when his gf was away. I guess Lee’s just like that, lmao.

We ended up upstairs. I think Lee’s in the frat? But we weren’t in his room, which was kinda hot. Lee and Nate sandwiched me between them as soon as we were through the door. I was tooootally surrounded by massive muscle as Nate made out with me and Lee sucked on my neck. I felt, like, high, with Nate’s big cock grinding into my belly through his jeans while Lee felt up my cute ass.

“You guys kissing would be so hot,” I gasped as Nate pulled off my shirt and Lee took off my shorts.

They both hesitated, I could feel it. “Oh c’mon,” I moaned, “you’re both tooootally hot, and you haven’t touched at allllll.”

Suddenly, Lee picked me up and threw me on a random frat bro’s bed. “I guess your mouth IS gonna be busy,” he said, which was SOOO hot, and then he started slicking up my hole.

Pretty soon, both hunks were balls deep in me. They were SOOOOOO big [doodles of massive, soft cocks cover the margins of this page] and I took ALL of them. Lee filled me up SO good, rubbing my prostate like he was fingering me. And Nate tasted, like, perfect. And the whole time, Nate kept pulling back just far enough that I could watch him and Lee kissing over me.

FUCK, they made me look like a little doll between them! I think once they were in me, all the dominance stuff went away, because they were TOTALLY making out. Nate’s, like, SO noisy, and Lee kept on doing that growl thing like he’d done before, which made me moan around Nate’s cock, which made him even noisier.

I came handsfree right before Lee flooded my ass and Nate filled my mouth with cum.

By the time our clothes were back on, Lee and Nate were back to playing their weird dick measuring game, keeping me between them as we went back to the party. I think Nate left pretty soon, but I danced for a bit longer and made out with a few frat bros. They really ARE super cute now, and they all seemed totally into me. Guess they finally got over being raging fucking homophobes lmao.

Anyway, I got home and crashed as soon as I’d cleaned all the cum and sweat off. Now my hand’s all crampy from writing for so long lol. Oooh, I should go tell Ollie all about it!

[Day Three]

I was, like, SO right.

The last few days have been AWESOME!!!! [jagged star doodles all around the word] I swear there are soooo many hunks on campus all of a sudden! One of my profs this term is a tooootal musclestud.

So I’m taking this class on fashion history, and when I looked it up, this Prof. Romano guy was listed for it. He was cute, one of those cute tweed aesthetic guys. You know, a fag who studies fashion. Like, OMG, that picture must be SO OLD.

I show up for class all ready to sit in the back row, but then I see this MAN standing at the podium. Like, total Italian stallion, with the dark waves and the stubbly jaw. He was, like, BURSTING out of his blazer. I could watch his pec bounce through three layers of fabric.

So obv I run down and sit in the front row. I’m not the first fag to have the idea, there’s already like 3 other twinks down there, but I’m totally the cutest. As the rest of the class comes in and sits down, these two GORGEOUS boys walk in and go up to the prof. They’re totally shredded, and dressed in complementary button-ups. And the muscle-god prof pats each of them on the head! Then they go sit down in some chairs behind the podium, and I can see their boners in their cute slacks.

The prof clears his throat, and it’s this DEEP, RESONANT sound. I got a total eargasm just listening to the rumble. “Good morning, class,” he says. And then his next words are TOTALLY burned into my brain:

[written in shaky block letters across a whole page] “You will call me Alpha Mario.”

And then he says, “I am your professor, and I will see you all for extra credit,” while rubbing himself through his pants, like half the class isn’t ready to have his babies. My cock was ROCK FUCKING HARD in my jeans. [doodle of a leaking penis]

He introduces his TAs as Beta Max and Beta Owen. IDK, maybe it’s a kink thing? He’s clearly their dom or something, they were totally devoted to him all class. I’d happily be Alpha Mario’s Beta if he’s hiring, lmao! [hearts are doodled around “Alpha Mario”]

Anyway, that’s just one ep in the PORN SHOW that is my life these days! Ollie’s room has been, like, a revolving door of cock since we got back, and I usually take two or three loads a day out on campus. This group of straight computer science geeks actually begged to fuck me yesterday, so I was dripping all the way home.

They were surprisingly buff for nerds, too! I should point out to Ollie that we gotta hit the gym if we wanna keep up with all the boys on campus this term. Can you imagine? Us at the gym! [The rest of the page is covered in stickers of the laughing emoji]

[Day Four]

Went to the gym today! Not to workout, but I had this new outfit idea and I thought it might get me noticed if I just hung out in the locker room. OH BOY, was I right!

Last few days all my clothes have been feeling super tight, so I’ve been doing a lot of [scribbled in rainbow marker] SHOPPING. It’s too bad, all my old clothes were suuuuper cute, but I’ve started giving some of my old faves to repeat fuckbuddies. One of the guys who used to push me around for being faggy, this guy called Brendan, has been coming over for the last few nights. I never realised how cute he is before!

Anyway, the first night Brendan came over he throatfucked me, but last night he told me he really wanted to feel my fingers in his hole, so I started fingering him! It was soooo hot that my cock ended up totally hard and before I knew it HE was blowing ME while I rubbed his prostate. He’s been texting me all day, begging to service my cock again. Lol, he just sent a voice message all like, “Please, Ronaldo, I’ll do anything to make you cum again!”

My point is I gave him a pair of my old booty shorts. They fit him perfectly, even though he NEVER had an ass as nice as mine before. He’s been wearing them all day today, just like I told him. It’s so hot, knowing he’s showing off like a fag even though he used to be a straight homophobe.

Fuck, I was writing about MY clothes! I’ve been so distracted by hot beta boys the last few days. I thought it was kinda time to change up my style, plus I looked super hot trying on some more dude-type clothes, so here’s the pic of me I took while I was hanging out at the gym.

I had guys HANGING OFF OF ME after a few minutes. It was totally hot, they wanted to do anything I said. Before long, I had a bunch of hot guys kissing me all over and all the cocks I could want to suck. Guys kept running out to grab their hot friends to join us, and all these guys were focussed on me.

At one point one of the staff came in, and I could tell it was to tell us to stop. He was a cute guy, really filled out his work polo, you know how gyms always hire swole dudes and curvy gurls to work at the front desk. I just gave him this LOOK from the middle of my pile of dudes, and I could feel his straightness melt away as his cock started leaking in his preppy shorts.

But just as I was about to cum, my cap got ripped off my head and I was dragged out of the pile by Nate, the guy from that frat party. I swear, he got even BIGGER since last time, he held me up by my shoulders like I was a paperweight. He was totally growling at me, too. He said something like, “I hate when they’re half done,” whatever that means, and then he yelled at all the other boys to get back to work.

Once we were along in the locker room, Nate shook me like a doll. “All the ex-het Betas can treat my gym as neutral ground, but it’s MY territory to you and the other half-done Alphas, you got it?” [note: Alpha and Beta are capitalised in the original text, although Ronnie does not seem to have been aware of the Alpha Phenomenon]

I was like “What are you talking about?”

Nate said, “You’ll get it.” Then I started smelling this INCREDIBLE smell. It was like really sharp cedar cologne mixed with fresh sweat. There was something else too, and it made me feel totally out of it.

Next thing I knew, I was on my knees swallowing Nate’s cock again. “Yeah,” he was saying while he fucked my throat, “this’ll speed you up. You’ll probably never submit again after this, so I’m gonna enjoy it.”

I just stayed there, taking him all the way into my throat. I feel like a week ago it would’ve been totally hot, but today it felt different. Nate using me made me MAD [underlined several times]. I felt like I should do something about it, like punch him or steal one of his boys, but the smell coming off of him kept me docile.

Nate came really quietly, which made me madder. My throat is an incredible tool, okay? Any guy should be screaming when I blow him, especially a noisy top like Nate. Then he patted me on the head like I was a little boy and said, “Head home. Drop a load in that guy who lives across from you, he should be progressing well too.” Then he just. Walked away.

I was gonna stay here all night just to spite the asshole, but I’m super horny again and I don’t wanna go back out. Maybe I’ll go see if Ollie’s got any visitors tonight or if he wants me to fill his holes for him.

[Day Five]

[From this point, entries are written in a noticeably heavier hand. Lowercase Es and Os become jagged.] Fuck, last night was fucking awesome. I knocked on Ollie’s door, and he answered in nothing but a thong, showing his bottom growth right through the fabric. His legs have been getting so hairy and thick, he looked super slutty. Plus his room smelled like sex and cum. I’ve been sleeping out, but seems like Ollie’s been taking house calls.

“Ronaldo?” he said, blinking up at me in surprise. I think we used to be a matching pair of little twinks, but guess I’ve had a growth spurt.

I shoved through the door. What was he gonna do, stop me? I was like, “Where’s your lube?” It came out of my mouth so deep, in a crazy manly register. “I wanna finger you.”

Ollie fuckin’ moaned when I said that, and stumbled over to his night table to grab it. He keeps his lube right out in the open, proud of how much cock he takes. I was already dropping my jeans, my cock was getting super hard and I hate feeling it strain. It deserves to be seen anyway.

Once I grabbed Ollie’s lube, he stood against the wall and presented his ass for me. Fuck, just remembering the look of all that hair on his fat ass is making me leak again. Okay I jerked a bit, should be able to write. [there is a stain on the page here]

Ollie’s hole was still loose from his last dick appointment, so I pushed three fingers in nice and easy. Ollie was moaning, all, “When did your fingers get so thick,” and “What’s happening to us, Ronaldo?” so I roughed up his G-spot a bit until he wasn’t being so articulate anymore.

“What’s happening to us is we’re gonna rule this school,” I hissed at him. I’d realised that it wasn’t gonna be enough to finger him and make him blow me. I needed to shoot inside his ass right fucking now. “Fags are in fucking charge here now.”

Fuck, wait, I need to text Brendan and get him over here. I need him milking my cock so I can focus on writing.

[There are several crude doodles of dicks, asses, and cum splatters in various marker colours before the entry continues on the facing page]

So anyway I slammed Ollie against the wall and shoved my cock into him. My cock’s so much fucking bigger now, too. Like it’s really filling up Brendan’s mouth while he sucks on me. I had enough cock to really saw at Ollie's asshole, and I felt him cum handsfree onto the wall.

“That’s it,” I growled in his ear as I had to hold him up. “This is what you’ve wanted ever since we became neighbours, right? Ollie wanted to get Ronnie’s big alpha dick in his hole.” It felt good to call myself a

[in massive letters on its own line] ALPHA

Ollie didn’t really say words at that point, just lots of “Yes” and “More.” I could hear his voice getting deeper with every thrust, too.

By the time I was getting close, Ollie’s room reeked like ME. It wasn’t a bad smell, but I knew any boy who came in here would be able to tell that all this musk and spice wasn’t just Ollie. It would take weeks for this to be really Ollie’s territory again now that I had marked it. “Fuck, show me that man pussy,” I ordered him, and threw him down in his bed.

Switching holes felt like the most natural thing in the world. I’m fucking built for topping, I can’t believe I thought I hated it. I fucked Ollie through a couple more orgasms and then let myself fill up his man pussy with what felt like 3 loads.

I fell asleep still inside him.

FUCK. I just came in Brendan’s mouth, and it felt totally different. Like, I marked Ollie’s room, but I didn’t mark HIM. His holes are open for anyone to fill. He can own other boys for all I care. But Brendan? Brendan’s fucking MINE. He’s mine he’s mine he’s mine. MY Brendan. [scribbled hastily] I need his hole NOW.

[written later]

I took a pic of Ollie before I started fingering him. I bet he looks totally different now, like me. Gotta go, MY Brendan’s gonna show me how to do a gym session.

To Be Continued...

#alphaworld #male transformation #mental change #male tf #muscle tf #reality change #musk tf #dom tf #hairy tf #gradual change #all fwkong

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pineappleciders · 1 year

Note

ayo can i request a male (or gn if you prefer) adult reader adopting tweek, butters and kenny? bc i love those kids but they all deserve much better parents than the ones they have in canon.

masc adult reader adopting tweek, butters, and kenny (and a bit of karen)

A/N: i've never gotten to do a male reader b4 so i'm glad you asked!!!! these r kinda separate to keep it simple, also reader is referred to as dad :)

TRIGGER WARNING: SA and abuse mentions, drugs (obviously)

tweek tweak

first things first, you start weaning him off the coffee. you still give him smaller doses for awhile just to keep him stable and with no withdrawal

if you send him to rehab, he'd definitely be a little scared. so you pack his backpack and lunch and pat him on the head and send him off, telling him to text you if he needs anything

he's always coming into your room in the middle of the night gripping his pillow and pulling his hair.

"dad, the gnomes! t-they're back, AGH!"

"tweek, i thought we went over this..."

it can be a little difficult to calm him down sometimes, so you two practice breathing exercises in case you aren't there to help him

he carries around a little card keychain that you made for him with comforting words and grounding techniques. he carries it everywhere and attaches it to his bookbag!!

you put the coffee pods on the highest cupboard shelf so he can't reach them. he hasn't tried to reach them (as far as you're aware)

you try to smooth down his hair and brush it out but it somehow always pops back up. also his hairline is fucked. so are his teeth. he's a little fucked up in every way but you love him anyways

butters stotch

with butters, it's apparent that negative discipline is not the route here. you instead opt to use positive reinforcement when he obeys and does stuff right

you're not a pushover by any means, but you are a lot less strict than his biological parents.

he gets a little confused sometimes when he doesn't get shouted at or blamed for something he didn't do. like he walks in the door expecting to get yelled at but you just hug him and ask how his day at school was

he's really glad he can actually have friends over now. his friends are always commenting on how cool his new dad is compared to his old one

butters has learned to not talk about his trauma and past. he was always taught to bury it deep down and never mention it to anybody. so when he randomly blurts out how his uncle molested him at dinner, he's confused when you look horrified

he loves to play sports in the backyard with you!!! his old dad never really spent time with him, so he has the absolute time of his life playing ball with you. it becomes one of his best core memories

he likes to draw with crayons a lot so he always draws pictures of you and him like under a rainbow or something and you always hang it up on the fridge. you're quickly running out of room for his art

kenny mccormick

as soon as he gets home and you give him the OK to eat he is eating everything in your house

turns out it's really difficult for a 9 year old to properly grow on a diet of frozen waffles and dust bunnies. you're shocked when you're preparing his bath and he's a lot skinnier and shorter than the other kids

honestly if u adopt him then you have to adopt karen too. and kevin if you want. but preferably karen.

nothing makes kenny happier than knowing she's sleeping in a warm bed with a full stomach. it's just a bonus that he is too!!

like butters, he loves to play sports with you. specifically catch and baseball. he also forces you to play barbies with him and do a high-pitched girl voice

loves to fall asleep in your lap/in your arms. like he'll fall asleep mid-piggy back ride and just snore on your shoulder

always flexing on cartman that now that he isn't the poorest kid that cartman is now. cartman hates u for it

always wants a sip of your morning coffee and waits for karen to finish her food before finishing his. it's a force of habit and it's kind of sad but also really sweet

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kpforpresident · 9 months

Text

Good Vibrations AU

Lexa is staring particularly hard at the one penis-shaped water stain in the damp ceiling, trying her absolute hardest not to eavesdrop on the couple that was standing a stone’s throw away, arguing hotly next to a hot pink, two-foot-long dildo that Lexa would hazard a guess at being at least as large around as her forearm. The girl, a tiny petite thing with platinum blonde hair fiddles with a bullet toy on the nearby display while the boy, a walking embodiment of a mountain dew and Cheetos gamer, gestures emphatically at the monstrous toy that dangles by the girl’s shoulder. Lexa can practically feel the toy staring at her with its bulbous head, the massive silicone ball silhouette gleaming softly in the dull fluorescent lighting.

“Babe, I’m just saying, I think it would fit…”

Lexa bites back a shudder as she fastidiously scrubs away an invisible speck away from the display case that houses a frankly staggering array of lubes, both flavored and plain.

One more year and I will have enough to pay outright for my master’s degree loans, and I never have to step foot in here again, Lexa finds herself thinking with the fervent hope of a thousand suns as she stares unseeing at a strawberry lube bottle that boasts an eye-wateringly bright green label that promises a “Sweet, Slippery Good Time!”

“You have no issue with my dick, this isn’t that much bigger-”

Lexa, fighting every demon known not to let out a cackle at the exasperated look on the blonde girl’s face, ducks her head to chew on her lip before moving from the safety of behind her glass and metal counter. Walking purposefully by the duo, she innocently straightens a lacy thigh-high garter that sits proudly in the slightly-frosted windows, just opaque enough to squeak by the city’s stringent guidelines but transparent enough to barely hint at what lay behind the metallic doors of Good Vibrations, Polis’s self-proclaimed best and largest sex shop.

Kane, the town’s local eccentric but entirely affable billionaire had opened the shop three years ago must to the abject horror of the local evangelical group, led by the most fervent of the bunch, Charles Pike.

Kane staunchly maintained that the shop existed to promote sex positivity and awareness in a world increasingly fraught with misinformation or staggering layers of prudish beliefs on the topic of sex education. Seething with barely contained hostility, Pike and his acolytes were ordered to cease their weekly prayer circles outside of the front door as Kane managed to find the largest, glittery, rainbow flag with a bedazzled uterus on it and set it flying proudly outside of their front door.

Much to everyone and no one’s surprise, Good Vibrations does a rip-roaring trade in sex toys and accessories, with customers ordering online from around the world, business pouring in after young and scrappy student journalist Lexa Woods wrote a piece about the story of the local business for a university writing course. She, of course, had expected it to go no further than the boundaries of the sleep little town of Polis, assuming that many students would read the piece and make a note of the store as a place to stagger into when their sweet new girlfriend texted them that yes, they did really want to use the fluffy pink handcuffs, or no, of course, the vibrator wasn’t necessary and her boyfriend always made her O but the girl just figured it would be fun to try the Satisfyer Pro 2. You know, for science.

Kane had laughed uproariously and framed it when the New York Times picked it up as an opinion lifestyle piece, hanging it just inside the front door with pride. He then offered young Lexa a job. Desperate to fund her dreams of global journalism and international affairs studies, she seizes the chance to work a flexible job with good pay and weekends off.

Hence why she was currently furiously chewing her cheek again the onslaught of laughter bubbling up in her throat as Gamer Boy makes a show of jiggling the pink monstrosity of a toy near his own nether regions, minutely hip thrusting in the girl’s direction.

The girl rolls her eyes as she wanders away to examine some kinky position dice, leaving Lexa to contemplate the vast and confusing world of heterosexual encounters.

Her rumination on this topic is cut abruptly short by the cheery little chime of the shop’s front door, a high-pitched noise that automatically has Lexa pivoting away from the couple that is now arguing by a pair of furry, neon green garters, and towards the entrance.

Only to be completely way-laid out by a wide-eyed blonde barreling towards her at high speed, brandishing something oblong and bright purple in her right fist. Completely nonplussed at this strange girl who was clearly on a mission, Lexa cocks her head and squints at the object in her fist, cursing the fact she forgot her glasses today.

At least it’s not a weapon, Lexa finds herself thinking as bright blue eyes, sparking with indignation, are moving closer by the second. Hang on, is that—?

Skidding on the recently mopped hardwood in front of Lexa, courtesy of a curious frat boy and an exploded bottle of body glitter, Lexa has approximately 4 seconds to react as the girl slips, cartoon-like, feet flying out from underneath her as she fails to find traction on the glistening floor.

Lexa, acting on autopilot, thrusts a hand forward to try and catch a flailing limb–

Thud.

The girl hits the ground so hard the glass dildos rattle menacingly in their cases, Lexa’s teeth along with them. The girl peers up at Lexa dazedly, gaze sharpening and seeming to run the full gamut of human emotion before settling into horror. Both sets of eyes were now fixed on Lexa’s right hand, grasping the only thing she managed to find purchase as the blonde fell.

A purple vibe fits snugly into her right hand, lights flashing at random as the toy gives a feeble bzzt of protest, seemingly in response to being manhandled in their owner’s fight with gravity.

A strangled “What the fuck?” roughly 4 octaves higher than normal is all a startled Lexa can get out in response, a very gay part of her brain flashing loud rainbow lights as if to alert her that by some strange twist of fate, she has ended up being personally given this very pretty girl’s personal sex toy. Said toy vibrates feebly twice more before going dark and silent, as if satisfied that its death toll was in Lexa’s confused hand.

The blond’s head hits the ground for a second time as she rolls her eyes back to face the ceiling, seemingly resigned to her fate. Then, as if animated by the gay sex gods, she pops up again to snatch the toy out of Lexa’s hand.

“You-” Lexa can barely lean back in time as the purple toy sails within millimeters of her nose- “owe me an orgasm, Woods.”

#good vibrations au #clexa #clexa crack #i hope y'all like this one #thank you to casco times one million for the moodboard

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fluffyhare · 2 months

Text

Like Real People Do, Part 4! ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Casper and Avery's relationship grows. Avery comes over to watch a movie that has an unexpected *scene* for Casper. Shenanigans ensue.

☁️ Warnings: Suggestive, very romantic, STUPID gay, the tickles you've been waiting for™, classic Avery teasing -- ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS

☁️ Author's Note: If you feel like I didn't go off the rails enough here, stay tuned because I swear to god, I'm just getting started~

This is a series now!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 *you are here

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

Avery came to visit me the night after we went to the fair. And the next. And the next.

Occasionally we'd skip a day or two, if he was working on research late into the night, or if I had after-hours systems testing at my job, but before long we had spent the equivalent of a week together. Then a month. Then two.

Sometimes I would cook for him, helping him experience all the culinary delights he had denied himself due them being “unnecessary” pleasures. He found most dry food intolerable, but he loved all kinds of soup, fruit, and especially ice cream. I made sure to always have a case of sparkling water on-hand, too, just for him.

Some nights, he would take me back to his lighthouse and we would spend the evening together there, sipping tea and playing board games on his tiny kitchen table (Avery usually won). We shared affectionate hugs and glances. Sometimes, he would touch my hand across the kitchen table as I pored over how to beat him at cards, making me lose my concentration. He always carried me home before it got too late.

When we weren't together, we texted; sweet greetings, inside jokes, photos from our lives. We playfully competed against each other for who could make the most bored face while working, or who could take a prettier sunset picture. True to his word, he also texted me when he needed things; strange mechanical parts, books about advanced scientific concepts, refills for his tea cabinet.

I let him take point and followed his lead, never initiating, allowing him to discover and express his feelings in his own time. He was shy, but he could be playful at times, too – I wasn't sure if he knew it, but his teasing flustered me out of my wits. I was fairly certain he didn't know about… that, but there had been some close calls; a good-natured nudge to the ribs that sent me reeling, or a hug that ended with his fingertips lightly grazing my sides. I recalled one incident at the movie theatre when he whispered a little too close to my ear, necessitating me to hold my breath until he was done speaking. That time, I thought I wouldn't make it.

It was autumn, my favorite season. I had not grown up around deciduous trees, and I was delighted to watch the foliage in Port Oleander cycle through a rainbow of warm hues. The sun was beginning to set as I stood in my kitchen, gently stirring a pot of homemade miso soup – Avery's favorite – when my phone buzzed.

What are you doing, dewdrop?

makin soup for you :3

Ooh, what kind?

its a surprise!!

I'm sure I'll love it.

Hey, I wanted to ask you something… Do you want me to stay the night tonight?

“Wow,” I thought. That was a big step for Avery. We'd cuddled a bit before, but not in bed, and we'd never spent the night, either. My heart beat a bit faster. What if I did something embarrassing in my sleep? Would he notice if I wasn't wearing my binder? Would he care?

I took a bit too long to answer, so he followed with:

If you're not comfortable, I totally understand.

no!! i would love for you to stay over. my beds not as big as yours but i think it's comfy.

Sounds good! I can't wait to see you, dewdrop. I'm bringing a movie to watch.

which one!!!

Hehe… it's a surprise.

can't wait💙

+++

It wasn't long before Avery arrived. As I opened the door, I grinned at the sight of him in his fall outfit. It was the first really cold day of autumn, and he'd worn an alpine sweater, a blue scarf, and jeans instead of his usual slacks. I rushed into his huge embrace, burying my face in his soft chest. He was especially tall and fluffy that day – I estimated he was about six-foot-five (195cm ♡) – which told me he was well-hydrated and full of energy. I inhaled as I nuzzled into his chest -- he smelled like cloves and old books.

“Hello, dewdrop,” he said fondly, squeezing me close to him and stroking my hair. “It smells wonderful in here." He took a seat on the couch, setting a DVD on the coffee table.

“It'll be done soon! Are you hungry?”

“Casper, I'm always hungry when you're cooking.”

I giggled, sampling the soup as I walked over to him. “Is this the movie you brought?”

“Yes, I wasn't sure if you'd seen it, but you said you liked old animated films. This is one of my favorites, so I thought I'd share it with you.”

It was a copy of The Secret of NIMH. It made sense that Avery liked it – understandably, he had a penchant for fringe science and supernatural concepts.

“Oh, I love this movie!” I had a copy of it, too, but it was in storage somewhere.

I brought two bowls of soup over to the couch. Though I was pleased with how it came out, I wasn't particularly hungry; I was too riled up, thinking about Avery staying the night. I noticed that he'd brought a canvas bag with him. I wondered what his pajamas looked like. I wondered about a lot of other things, too.

“Ahh, you scamp, this is my favorite! Thank you for making it, it's delicious,” Avery chirped, sipping the clear broth greedily. I never tired of watching him eat; the liquid entering his mouth and then being swept up in the swirling vortex of his head, disappearing in an instant. The hot soup made him steam a bit, little whips of vapor rising from his skin.

I put the movie in and turned off the light, snuggling into his side. Though his sweater was soft, I wished that I could feel his bare arm instead as he wrapped it around me. His cool fingers rested on my forearm, and I could feel the wind rushing beneath his skin.

We watched the movie quietly, every now and then making comments on the score and animation of the Don Bluth film.

“Justin reminds me of you,” I said, grinning.

“Oh, really? Hehe. He is charming, isn't he? He's just like me, for real.” Avery put his hands on his hips and struck a playfully haughty pose, just like in Justin's introduction scene. The temptation to take him down a peg was immense, but somehow, I resisted.

“Dude, you cannot pull off slang like that at all,” I said, laughing.

“Got you to giggle though, didn't I?”

I blushed, but summoned some confidence and fired back anyway.

“Pfff. Just like Mr. Ages said about Justin, you're a feather-head, too.”

Avery laughed openly, causing me to get a terrible case of butterflies as he trembled against my body.

“I can't argue with that,” he said.

We watched the movie a while longer. The scene with Jenner in the auditorium ended, and the next scene featuring Jeremy started to play. He was tangled up in his string, as usual, and was involved in some banter with the suspicious old shrew, who was admonishing him for sneaking around. She paced back and forth on screen, rigging up Jeremy's string to nearby branches and hoisting him into the air.

Suddenly, I remembered this scene. My body stiffened a bit against Avery, and I felt my ears beginning to flush. Without meaning to, I held my breath.

The mice kids were calling Jeremy a turkey, and demanding to know where their mother was. One of them jumped on top of Jeremy, clawed fingers scratching his sides as he laughed, crying, “No, stop! You're tickling!”

Luckily, the scene was over quickly. I exhaled as quietly as possible, but then, Avery paused the movie. My heart dropped.

“I've noticed something about you,” he said slowly.

“Y-yes?” I tried to sound normal. I sounded nothing close.

“Whenever this topic comes up, I observe a kaleidoscope of emotions from you. You flush, stutter, look away, squirm, and hold your breath. I've let it slide many times, but now, I'm curious. This tickling… has an interesting effect on you that it doesn't seem to have on other humans.

“I know what tickling is, in theory, but it’s a human behavior that doesn't exist in Cirropa. I'm dying to know what about it gets you so… flustered like this? And why you're so desperate to hide it from me.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly and painfully aware of every contact point between Avery’s body and mine, especially his fingers resting on my arm. How could I explain this without saying it out loud?

“Ahh, well, um… it's… I just…” I babbled incoherently. My breath came in short gasps as my fingers and toes grew clammy.

Avery shifted on the couch, turning to face me. In the glow of the TV screen, his eyes were intense, but there was the faintest hint of a smirk playing around his lips.

“I am a scientist, you know. If you don't tell me, I'm not afraid to test a hypothesis. But let's clear this up first, at least – does it make you uncomfortable in a bad way? Is it painful for you? I have a feeling it's the opposite… very opposite… but I have to be sure.”

“Ahh, errrr… no…”

“No, what?”

“No, it… doesn't make me uncomfortable in a bad way, and it isn't painful.”

“Hmmm… what isn't?”

“What?”

“What isn't painful, Casper?”

“...”

“Oh, stars. This ruffles you so badly you can't even say the word, can you? Oh, dewdrop… you know I have to try it, now.”

Alarm bells went off in my head as I felt my blush flood from my ears, to my cheeks, to the rest of my face. I scrambled backwards from Avery, but with such speed I almost couldn't detect it, he was on top of me, one knee on each side of my hips.

I screamed.

“No Avery! Nohohoho plehehehehease don't hahahahaha!”

“My god, I haven't even touched you yet! I hear you saying no– do you really want me to stop?” His smirk was huge now, and I could barely stand to look at him. He knew exactly what he was doing.

I hid my face in my hands, causing Avery to giggle.

“I knew it! Humans are so cute sometimes! Here, sweetheart, I'll give you one last out. If you want me to stop, snap your fingers.”

A moment of silence passed, my hands still firmly covering my face.

“Hehehe… Alright, then. You quite literally asked for it.”

With that, I felt Avery's fingertips light on each side of my ribcage. He started softly and deftly flexing them, gently skittering along the sides of my body.

I'd been tickled plenty of times before, by previous partners and friends. Generally, they were so excited to tickle me, so caught up in a moment of playfulness that they dug their fingers into me… which did usually tickle quite a lot, but it also hurt a bit, too, and made it difficult to enjoy.

Avery's tickling was entirely different. He was methodical, comprehensive. Playful, but gentle. His fingertips were incredibly soft and dexterous as they prodded and kneaded along my ribcage. Avery worked with delicate scientific instruments, and he tickled like he did, too; it was like nothing I'd ever felt.

“Ahahahahahaveryyyy!! Hahahahaha!” I cried, squirming beneath his fingers, my unrestrained hands grabbing uselessly at his forearms; he was so strong, it didn't seem to phase him in the slightest.

“Hehehe, you are so sensitive to this! Oh, this is so cute, Casper! If I had known you liked this sooner, I would have already played with you like this so many times. I wonder where else you're ticklish? If we go by evolutionary theory, it would probably be a vital point, like here,” he teased, his soft fingertips moving from my ribcage to the sides of my neck, his cool fingers gliding merrily along my bare skin.

I blushed so hard, I was sure my whole body must be red.

“AAAHAHAhahahaha!” I squealed, reaching my hands up to protect myself. I could feel moisture beginning to bead in the corners of my eyes. Avery's fingertips tickled so much, it was like an eclipse for my mind, blocking out any thoughts and leaving only the delicious torture of sensation.

Avery stopped, looking down at me with concern.

“You're starting to cry, are you okay?” He asked, his brow furrowed as he reached out to cup my hot cheek in his soft palm, gently wiping my tear with his thumb.

“Hehehe… I'm okay, Avery… I cry when I laugh sometimes,” I said, placing my hand reassuringly over his. His cold skin was a relief, as I was already starting to sweat.

“Hmm… if you do things like cry, and say ‘stop’ out of instinct, how will I know when you're ready for me to really stop?”

“Aheh, well… time for some vocabulary, I guess. That's called a safeword, but safewords don't always work with this, because sometimes you're laughing so hard you can't get it out. I've found it's better to tap out,” I showed him by tapping my fingers on the couch, “but it's always good to check periodically, too.”

“What other words should I know?”

“Well… there is ‘ler’, which means someone who likes to ‘teekay’ other people, and ‘lee’, someone who likes to be ‘teekayed’.”

“So… does that mean you're a lee?”

I chuckled; my turn to smirk.

“No, I'm the ‘secret third thing’ – a switch. Someone who likes both.”

“O-Oh.” Avery blushed exquisitely.

“You wanna give it a try?”

“It does seem like fun…”

My heart was pounding. “Why don't we move to the bed, then? You can't really stretch out on this couch like I can. You'll be more comfortable there.”

“Hehe… lead on, dewdrop.”

#tickle fic #tickle fluff #tickling community #casper and avery #like real people do #fluffylore #writing #my fic #romance #tickling #ocs #my ocs

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hypequeenves · 18 days

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NEW TO THE BLOG? READ ME!

Enchantée, my loves! Welcome to the blog! <3

Just to let you know that this is a story based blog, with an alternative style of story telling. The plot is revealed mostly through the lens of different types of technology. From Sinstagram posts to security camera footage, this Hellaverse AU centres around my OC Vesper:

Vesper is a popular popstar and sinner operating within the Pride Ring. She is soul contracted to Vox, and was designed around the idea of a 'hypeman' for the Vees. Her outfit is loosely based around a cheerleader, and her abilities are based off a Siren.

The story is told through a bunch of different mediums - mostly images, but I do have some audio files on here along with some music! I did not expect to be writing music for this, but here we are! So if you'd like to stick around, I'd scroll right to the bottom of the blog and explore the story! SPOILERS BELOW - If you haven't looked through the posts thus far and don't want to be spoiled, come back after!

THE PLOT THUS FAR:

(I didn't just wanna write the plot point blank, so I wrote it like POV: Your at a movie night and your best friend is telling you the plot to the prequel movie so you have *context*)

We're diving into the wild world of Vanessa LaBlanc, this mega-popstar who goes by the stage name Vesper in the Pride Ring. But here's the kicker: her climb to stardom? It's only been about seven years! Insane, right?

So, her smash hit 'The Devil You Know' rockets to the top of 'Hell's Hottest Hits'. It's like her big breakout moment, and suddenly, everyone's got their eyes on her.

But here's where it gets interesting: turns out, she's been hanging out at the Hazbin Hotel, but not just for kicks. Nope, she's on this super-secret spy mission, keeping tabs on things. And her deal with Vox? Let's just say their whole working relationship is one big question mark.

Then there's this whole issue about her being under some soul contract with Vox, so it's not all rainbows and sunshine. But Charlie, being the sweetheart she is, rallies everyone to support Vesper at this major award ceremony, and guess what? She totally wins and takes home the prize!

But after that, Vesper goes MIA, ghosting everyone's texts and calls. Finally, when she resurfaces, it's because she's been tied up shooting some ad campaign. Turns out, her and Vox had this major fallout over the ad's ethics.

And get this: the product of the ad? Love Potions! Vesper's kinda backed into a corner she doesn't think its right - but Vox makes her do it anyway! You can see the strain it puts on her and Vox's relationship. It's messy, to say the least.

Then there's this whole backstory between Vesper and Angel Dust, like they used to hate each other and Valentino admits to being the reason behind it. But now that she's staying at the Hotel, they seem to have made up! Val's flipping out, convinced Vesper's up to something, but Vox is tells Val to calm down, because 'it's not like before' that she's 'under contract now'.

Things really hit the fan when Vesper and Vox have this big blow up over some news article about her going public with staying at the Hazbin Hotel. But in the middle of all the drama, you can see there's this genuine care between them, buried beneath all the chaos.

And then there's the bombshell about Vesper's new album, 'Absolution', which Vox drops on her out of nowhere. She's not thrilled, especially when she finds out the album cover's shot in Val's flooded studio, and she has a deep-rooted fear of water.

Things get tense between Vesper and Angel, too. He's worried sick about her, but she's not having any of it. And then after the album shoot, her relationship with Vox starts unravelling big time.

And that's pretty much it thus far!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hellaverse #oc #hazbin hotel fanart #the vees #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin hotel art #hazbin hotel fandom

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lvvrboyxoxo · 8 months

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(hc) Being a Spring Sibling Includes . . .

pairing(s) : Tori / Charlie Spring + Sibling!reader

synopsis : how being siblings with tori + charlie would be !

warning(s) : sibling dynamics , fluff + comfort ideals , mentions of self harm ( broad / undetailed ) , implied homophobia , h*rry gr**ne , mentions of the f slur .

authors note : i sadly will not be including oliver from the osemanverse books , since i cannot accurately portray him as i havent read the books he features in . hope you enjoy regardless !

✦ firsts things first , sibling age hierarchy .

✦ regardless if youre eldest , middle , or youngest , tori will always feel like an older sister to you by the way she very deeply cares for you in such a . . . blunt manner .

✦ charlie , however , can either be an older brother idol or a younger brother you care about just like tori .

✦ you basically have an amazing emotional support system in the form of tori and charlie .

✦ tori and charlie constantly remind you that you can always text them or talk to them .

✦ sometimes you feel like you dont deserve either of them , but they make sure that you shake that mindset away .

✦ whenever youre in a dump , theyll offer to take you to the mall or arcade , or anywhere you like to go .

✦ god forbid you ever self harm , but if you do , nick and charlie are there for you .

✦ theyll never shame you for doing it , but they will make sure you try not to do it again .

✦ theyll help you patch up your scars , get you something to drink , and overall just make sure you are 100% comfortable .

✦ on the other hand , whenever charlie or tori has a breakdown or a bad day , you try your best to be there for them .

✦ youll sit there and let them vent or soak your shirt in tears , just as long as you get to see your sibling better than their previous condition .

✦ you three made an old joke about saving up for therapy , but at some point , you three actually ended up making an actual communal therapy fund .

✦ napping with these two are great .

✦ usually , if youre tired enough , youll pass out on either of their beds , and theyll just shove you to the side before napping next to you .

✦ just like your siblings , you also have a nickname everyone calls you by , just like tori from victoria and charlie from charles .

✦ coming out to either of them would go absolutely swimmingly .

✦ charlie would obviously be happy to have another alphabet mafia member in the family , and now tori knows to purchase those god-awful rainbow socks during christmas as your present to annoy you .

✦ the sibling group chat with these two . . . is something ! . . .

mental asylum char — nick said he can come over ❤️ char — also did either of you take my charger tori — ew more snogging y/n — LMAOOOO char — tori did you take my charger ?????? tori — [y/n] can u bring me stuff while him and nick r snogging y/n — if i dont die from cringing then ok

✦ while charlie was crushing on nick , you and tori had to watch the endless pining and yapping .

✦ charlie was dropping way too much info to document , so you just kept voice memos of him talking about nick .

✦ you showed them to him afterwards , and yes , he asked for you to send them to him .

✦ even when charlie didnt confirm his relationship with nick , you and tori just sat back and watched it unravel .

✦ you had something akin to tori's older sister magic , in that you turned up with anything either of your siblings needed .

✦ if theyre looking for that old pair of converse , youll have it . if theyre looking for that old copic marker , its in your drawer . that old usb stick from birth , yes , its in your backpack .

✦ you and charlie have great jam sessions .

✦ if you play a musical instrument , great ! he finds something both of you can play .

✦ if not , he'll buy one of those cheap karaoke machines with the microphone or grab a hairbrush so you can be his vocals .

✦ tori will occasionally join in after charlie insistently asks , singing along with you .

✦ you three have a group playlist together titled ‘trilogy done wrong’ filled with an amalgamation of all your favorite songs .

✦ you three often times bake together , although . . . its a hassle .

✦ charlie is constantly smearing flour onto you and and tori , you constantly keep moving the ingredients around the kitchen while grabbing stuff , and tori threatens to add too much flavoring or ingredients just to throw some chaos into the mix .

✦ mario kart . mario kart , mario kart , mario kart .

✦ if theres ever teams, its always you and tori versus charlie .

✦ you and tori swear he cheats but regardless , he'll slow down and pretend his controller bugged out just to let you three win ( you both realized this pretty early , but a win is a win . )

✦ movie nights !

✦ prep time before movies are a disaster . someone stole someone elses snacks , the blankets have gone missing in the dryer , and somehow , the remote vanishes and ends up in the bathroom upstairs .

✦ when you finally get to pick the movie , its a split decision between rom-com , scifi fantasy , or horror .

✦ charlie likes to say hes brave , but whenever horror is selected , expect the pillows nearby to be placed in a makeshift visual shield .

✦ tori likes to knock down said pillow shield during the jumpscares . its quite fun to watch . not so fun to have charlie erratically kick you out of fear .

✦ whether you attend truham or higgs , youll have a sibling on campus . take this as a blessing or a curse .

✦ ESPECIALLY if you go to school with charlie , you keep reminding him to tell you and tori if harry and his rugby mates ( that title sound so stupid to you and tori ) mess with him .

✦ tori and you wont physically deal with him , but its the thought that counts here .

✦ when you and tori caught word of harry calling charlie a fag , you both almost contemplated posting it on her blog just to ruin his life .

✦ you opted out of it . . . but the idea is still in your notes app .

✦ with the mention of tori's blog , tori will OCCASIONALLY let you post on it . this is basically a ‘what did we end up doing right’ kind of situation , but youre thankful nonetheless .

✦ studying with these two is amazing . or hell . like a lot of things .

✦ if you have flashcards , they wont go to the next one until you end up getting the current term right . doesnt matter if it takes all night or how many hints , theyre not skipping flashcards .

✦ writing an essay ? tori will jokingly nitpick at your word choice , loudly sipping at her already finished glass of diet lemonade .

✦ charlie would second guess himself and , in turn , make you second guess your OWN self .

✦ he profusely apologizes after but still giggles at it .

✦ back to the diet lemonade thing , there is 100% a designated place in the fridge or pantry just for the gallons of diet lemonade . just for tori .

✦ once , you and charlie finished the diet lemonade gallon , and tori was pissed . or , it seemed like she was .

✦ you and charlie ended up paying for an extra few more gallon fulls of diet lemonade just because you two felt bad .

✦ whenever you three go shopping , if you set a budget , either expect to spend way below it or way ABOVE it . there is no in between .

✦ the whole receipt for charlie is just converse and some other trinkets he ends up placing on his shelves .

✦ tori either buys cables and sd cards for her laptop , or spends it on an unhealthy amount of diet lemonade .

✦ you on the other hand , spends it on whatever you like at the moment .

✦ and regardless , these two dorkheads make being a Spring just a little bit better . ( you tell this to charlie or tori and it gets to their heads !!! )

#heartstopper #heartstopper s2 #heartstopper imagine #charlie spring #tori spring #charlie spring x reader #tori spring x reader #lvvrboy imagines

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bandydear · 3 months

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I’ve been reading your tlgbf tlgbl fic, and am absolutely obsessed!! Where did you get the inspirations for dyke Jackie? I love how you’ve written her and her queerness

So, I prescribe to the theory that Jackie had some inclinations about her homosexuality out there in the wild and that's why she's parading around in sweater vests and limp wrists. That the high femme presentation we see in the pilot is more of a gender and social performance than who she is. And, I explored the people pleaser elements that lingered behind in that.

She compliments Nat in the Pilot that she admires how true to herself Natalie is which means that Jackie is not true to herself. She feels the pressure of expectation and lives within that expectation instead of her truth. We are never given a "truth that could crash an airplane" from Jackie. What she says is that she used to sneak downstairs and watch The Color of Night so she could pause it at Bruce Willis's wang.

For research for the fic, I watched Color of Night (the shit I do for art...). Bruce Willis's flaccid dong is there for like, five frames. And, it's not impressive like she claims it to be. You know what that movie actually has a lot of? Naked women and lesbian sex. Jackie's gay.

I know a lot of butch/futch/even high femme dykes who began their journeys presenting heterofemme realness and rejected it when they made their way down the rainbow brick road. Jackie very much gives me those vibes. Like, she has gay energy, but also a very "useless gay man" energy.

I think that finding out "x amount" of her teammates are some kind of queer and that the Very Hetero Sport she's been shielding herself with is uhhhhh Not That is part of what leads her down the path of self-discovery.

She's also shredded. Jackie canonically has an 8-pack and that's interesting because in the 90's, muscle tone was seen as something undesirable for women. (Now, I know that the show is made Now, where the aesthetic ideals are different, but if it's in the text it counts.)

Anyway, this has all been said before in other tumblr posts about Jackie being gay. I'm sure you're asking about why I wrote her as a futch service top instead of say, a femme pillow princess?

It has to do with her character arc. In S1 of Yellowjackets, Jackie's arc is one of nihilism and regression. The only thing that is keeping her alive in this survival situation is her love for Shauna, and when she learns of Shauna's resentment, she loses the will to live. Literally. Dies of a broken heart.

Jackie cannot survive in an environment without love. And, she struggles with survival instincts in general. Which is what makes her a great foil to Nat, who cannot help but survive, and, ironically, dies in S2 of too much love. The moment Nat stopped being cynical and nihilistic she doomed herself.

Two characters in direct opposition cannot exist so therefore they must either kill one or the other other--or change each other to live in harmony. I chose the latter. Jackie softens Nat and Nat hardens Jackie. They meet in the middle. If Jackie becomes hard, and becomes someone who can survive, what does that look like? What's the funniest possible way to get to this point?

Make Jackie the one who builds the shelter. Take this ineffectual, limp wristed twink and show her the way towards self-sufficiency through trades. Her home was broken beyond repair, so she learns how to fix it on her own. The literal is metaphorical and the metaphorical is literal.

So, now that I've explained:

Why Jackie is gay

Why Jackie fixes houses

Now, "why a service top"?

I touch on it in the text, but I don't think she's solely that. I do think that even after coming out, if she was experimenting with people who weren't Shauna she wouldn't allow herself to be physically vulnerable with them. It would cause a panic attack. She has a very Protestant energy and receiving pleasure as a part of sex would probably give her like 5 different mental breaks.

Jackie doesn't enjoy sex with Jeff (oral and hand stuff count as sex) not just because she's gay, but because she's too self-aware of how she's being perceived to enjoy her body.

On the other hand, she is a chronic people pleaser--though Lazy, so I knew she couldn't jump into this with both feet. If Jackie had slept with the girl in chapter 1 it wouldn't have gone well, and it would have been super awkward and unsatisfying for both parties. It's the envy at seeing Nat enjoying herself, and finally being in a safe space to relax a little that allows her to explore sensuality. Still, I don't think she'd let herself be touched in the same way.

If she had, as planned, shared a room with Shauna at Rutgers, I could see her being in a much more comfortable sexual role. Because Shauna was her safe space. But, I could also see her bringing a lot of her own baggage into that situation, and it quickly becoming toxic. I don't think they'd work romantically out of their "platonic" relationship in school, because it had already broken and festered by the Pilot.

Anyway! That's the impetus for Jackie's dykery. I hope that clarified some things. There are other folks out there who have come away with other, valid, and cool conclusions, but these are the ones I came to with my own research and experience. Thanks again for asking!

#fanfic: tlgbf tlgbl #yellowjackets fanfic #jackie taylor

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deny-the-issue · 4 months

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Rainbow Drabble Challenge

Yellow

64.media.tumblr.com

GIF by gameofthronesdaily

Red, Orange <- Previous Chapter, Next Chapter -> Green, Blue, Indigo

Overall Summary: This is a short love story about Otto Hightower being a sexy bastard. There WILL be a happy ending. The reader is mid to late twenties in age.

Chapter Summary: You gift Ser Otto a small token of appreciation.

AO3 link

Rainbow drabble challenge

link to divider

[spinster!reader] [Otto Hightower x f!reader] [fluff] [626 words] [Yellow expressed as optimism and friendship]

The dreaded day has come, and Ser Otto’s mood has suffered the brunt of it. His scowl sends the servants running, lest they draw his ire. He worries the gravity of his emotions has spread too far when you walk into his office with the same shy demeanor.

Then he spies a lacquered wooden box held by your delicate, nervous hands, and curiosity wipes the thought from his mind’s eye.

You have read every text Ser Otto has to offer, except for a single chapter. He knows you feigned exhaustion the evening before. How could he not? It is part of his duties to know when someone is lying. It is also not in his nature to deny the chance to spend more time with you.

You stand perfectly poised in front of his desk, finally meeting his gaze. A beautiful blush paints your face as you gently clear your throat.

“My lord, I would like to present you with a token of my appreciation for allowing me to study your texts these past weeks.”

Raising his brow in stoic interest, he takes the offering, hands touching for a heartbeat before you retreat. The contact made him greedy for the intimate and obscene, something he could only dream of in the loneliness of his private chambers. Cool eyes cast down to the box as he lifts the hinged lid.

Inside lay five bare quills in a neat row atop rich green velvet. They seem finer than the ones he typically uses at first glance. He’s inspecting one in his hand when you begin to explain.

“They are crow’s feathers, my lord. I was told they produce a finer line than any other.”

Ser Otto nodded in agreement. He was told the same but due to their more expensive nature, he chose to remain with the common goose feather for his missives. However, his hand often cramped after long hours of writing, and he wondered if the finer edge would save him that pain.

“Thank you, my lady. It is a most gracious gift,” he politely accepts the gift, his voice cold and unaffected by his internal turmoil.

“It is the least I could do, my lord, for encumbering you with my presence for so many evenings. If you would indulge me one more kindness–may I hand deliver your portrait in a month’s time?”

“You may,” his answer is curt, but you wouldn’t know it from the brilliant smile lighting up your face.

Anger flares in Ser Otto’s belly. Not for you, but for the absolute yearning you instill. So honorable he has lived, where other men visit pleasure houses, Ser Otto upholds his morals. He would take no whore, and the mere thought of ruining you disgusts him. To rip you of your worth for a moment of bliss is unthinkable.

The emotion leaks into his expression, stealing your smile with it.

“I’ll take my leave— I know my lord is a busy man. Farewell, Ser Otto, may your days be kind.”

“To you, as well, my Lady.”

The door shuts behind you, leaving Ser Otto to reflect in cold silence. Whatever warmth these chambers provided left with you, and he could feel the loneliness creeping up his spine. The sight of your gift wards off the cold, and the light weight of the quill in his hand brings forth the memory of the warmth you so effortlessly tended.

A smirk pulls the corner of his lips as he remembers your feigned exhaustion the day before. You make such a beautiful liar, with an innocence he cannot even think of punishing.

A month cannot come soon enough. Even if the portrait isn’t up to his standards, at least he would be in your presence once again.

#otto hightower #otto hightower fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfic #eventual smut #fluff #otto hightower x reader #fem!reader #rainbowdrabblechallenge

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ajaywithcrowfeathers · 1 year

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Dear Stanley Parable community, I president to you: this incredible abomination

This came into existence because I needed a jersey, but because I don’t really care about sports I didn’t have one. Instead of just buying a normal one like a person lacking in brain rot, I decided I need to create my own with a blank baseball jersey and help from my Mom, who has a cricket that can cut out vinyl decals. And so, this absolutely incredible monstrosity was born.

I would like to point out some of my favorite details:

The numbers on the front and back do not match

The back is composed of only completely different fonts

It’s difficult to see in the pictures, but the vinyl has reflective rainbow sparkles

The text on the front is a direct quote from The Narrator, from the Rocket League section of the Games Ending

This was made in one sitting, over the course of several hours, because despite knowing about needing a jersey several weeks ahead of time I procrastinated until the night before I needed it

Also, shout out to my Mom, without whom this wonderful affront to god, man, and nature would never have been created

Bonus pictures:

#the stanley parable #the narrator tsp #tsp narrator #tspud narrator #the stanley parable fanart #the stanley parable art #I think this counts as art?#probably?#I consider it art anyway #AJoriginal

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specialinterestshows · 6 months

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Start to see more of jealous!Rhea in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic.

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed), jealousy/possessiveness, dirty talk

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 54 of ?): Mari (Wanna?)

“Here we are,” Marisol said, letting go of your hand to open the truck bed cover on a slightly beat-up blue car. You take a better look at the truck as she does, noticing a small set of rainbow beads strung up around the car’s rear view mirror and the paint job fading and peeling a bit on the hood.

“Pull up a seat,” the sound of her sweet, melodic voice made you look over. The tailgate had been opened and the cover rolled back to reveal the truck bed, floor draped in a blanket with several cushions of various colors, shapes, and sizes littered across it. Marisol was already sitting down and patting the large cushion next to her.

“You take smoke breaks like this?” you ask, lifting yourself onto the truck bed and sitting on the cushion.

“Life’s too short not to make everything as fun as possible,” Marisol replied, pulling an iridescent pipe and a classic zippo lighter out of her bag, “Sometimes I sit here and look at the stars while I decompress after a shift.”

“Marisol-“ you begin when you see her pull out a grinder to pack a bowl.

“Please, call me Mari,” she interrupts, winking - making you a bit flustered.

“Um, Mari, you don’t have to do that - I have a couple joints rolled already,” you say, pulling your own supplies out of your bag.

“Let’s make a salad, then,” Marisol says, packing the pipe halfway before handing it to you, “Just sprinkle some of your joint on top of that.”

You unroll the top of one of your joints and tap the side to shake out the bud as you ask, “So do you get a lot of jokes as a stoner who goes by “Mari?" Y’know, like-“

“Marijuana? All the time,” she chuckles, “I used to insist on going by Sol, but I’ve actually leaned into Mari more over the years. Nah, you go ahead and start us off, hermosa” - she shook her head when you offered her the packed bowl - “I can give you a light, though.”

After a nod, you lean in and watch Marisol light the bowl for you, noticing her watching you somewhat expectantly as you finish inhaling. Holding in the hit, you point to your mouth, eyebrows silently asking a question. She leaned forward without a word, carefully taking the pipe from you with one hand and cupping your face with the other as her soft lips touched yours.

Feeling your face grow warm at the gentle sensations, you exhale the smoke, feeling Marisol inhale at the same time. Even after she's taken in the smoke, Mari's hand remains at your cheek and she flicks her tongue just inside your mouth. Sparks fly and you find yourself kissing her, intoxicated by the scent of her perfume. The moan you release when she bites your lip makes you pull away a bit in embarrassment.

"Been a while, belleza?" Marisol giggles, pulling back enough to look at you with longing.

Before you could reply, the sound of your phone buzzing repeatedly cut through the air and you breathed a “sorry” before checking it to make sure your friends didn’t need your help. The text on your phone screen gave you a sudden rush of conflicting emotions: “Mami Calling”

“Sorry, I need to take this,” you said hurriedly, jumping down from the truck and walking out of earshot before answering the call.

“Hey, Rhe. Everything okay?”

“All good, beautiful,” Rhea said, using her sultry domme voice, “Heading back to the hotel for the night and wanted to know if my good girl wanted to do a video call with Mami.”

“My friends dragged me out to the club tonight,” you sighed.

“Meet anyone interesting?” Rhea teased, not seeming to think you might respond.

“I, um, did meet someone, actually…” you answered, heart pounding in your ears at the silence on the other line.

“…What do you mean?” the voice on the other end of the line was suddenly much more serious - not necessarily angry, but it made you anxious regardless.

“It was mostly just flirting,” you try not to trip over your words in a rush to explain, “And a bit of… kissing?”

The silence on the other line was excruciating as you held your breath, waiting for a response. Finally, Rhea asks, “Are you in love with her?”

“What? No, we just met!” you say immediately, "Are you... not okay with me seeing other people?"

"We're in an open relationship," she stated flatly, "You should do what makes you happy."

"I want you to be happy too," you tell her, "I love you, Rhe."

"I love you too," she says, and you're sure you hear a tinge of sadness in her voice, "I love you so much."

Before you can think of something comforting to say, Rhea changes her tone immediately - you can now hear a smirk in her voice as she continues, "I hope you know Mami is going to make you forget all about anyone you met while she was away, darling. Don't forget: you belong to me, baby."

Rhea hung up before you could reply and you pulled the phone away from your face to see a text in your friends' group chat asking where you are (and if you planned on stealing anyone else's crush). Sighing, you walk back to the truck to see Marisol lying down, looking at the stars. She props herself up on her elbows once you climb back onto the truck.

"Hey, sorry, I have to go," you apologize as you start gathering your things back into the bag you left there, "My friends are looking for me."

"At least let me give you my number," Mari insists, smiling when you pull out your phone to give her. Before you can hand it over, it buzzes, making you pull it back to look. Your face starts heating up rapidly when you see the photo Rhea just sent you of her bending over completely naked, grinning at the camera.

"Everything okay?" Marisol asks, looking confused.

"Yeah, here-" you start, but your phone buzzes again and this time it's Rhea biting her lip, tits fully on display. Flustered, you say, "You know what, how about I type my number into your phone instead."

[end part fifty-four of ?]

Part 55: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/732030186745380864/absolute-smokeshow-part-55-of-good-things

Tag List (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine , @littlemiss-fanficlover , @elisewithak , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess

#wwe fanfiction #the judgment day #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x dominik mysterio #weed #the judgement day #lady!reader #specialinterestshows presents #absolute smokeshow

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your-fave-is-crippled · 9 months

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Hello!! i just found this blog and was wondering if i could submit some headcannon art (made by me under a different username)

This is Marcy Wu from amphibia :))

(spoilers) she got stabbed in the back with a giant fire sword that went right thru and canon had her completely recover in a magic pickle jar but i dont belive that ✨

so i hc she has chronic pain and uses crutches and occasionally a wheelchair :3 obviously cripple punk too *⁠.⁠✧

im not sure how you take submissions but i hope this is good enough :))))

aaa yes absolutely!!

image one: [id: a dark grey flag with a dusty rainbow going from the bottom left corner up to the right, dark grey circles on top one in the middle of the other and marcy from amphibia in the middle of the image tilting her head holding out her crutches. :end id]

image two: [id: a flag with a grey border around 7 vertical stripes ranging from left to right as dusty pink, pink-orange, red-orange, dark orange, orange, light orange and yellow orange. on top of the flag is marcy from amphibia in the middle of the image tilting her head holding out her crutches. :end id]

image three: [id: a flag with 8 horizontal stripes ranging from top to bottom as red, light pink, light red, white, dark red, light pink, dusty red and medium red. on top of the flag is marcy from amphibia in the middle of the image tilting her head holding out her crutches. :end id]

image four: [id: a flag with a grey border around 7 vertical stripes ranging left to right from seafoam green, green, blue-green, dusty teal, dusty blue, desaturated blue, to light ocean blue. on top of the flag is marcy from amphibia in the middle of the image tilting her head holding out her crutches. :end id]

marcy wu from amphibia is crippled/a cripple, supports cripplepunk, has chronic pain, uses forearm crutches and a wheelchair!

image five: [id: a banner with a blue to green gradient and water-filtering-light texture under a faintly transparent blue rectangular box. in the box is light blue text that reads "Blog is about disability, disabled characters and headcanons. may include occasional pd rep but otherwise do not derail. blocking where i see fir for my comfort, please remain respectful." on the top of the banner outside the blue box is more light blue text that reads "DNI if proship, terf, are a discourse blog and other basic dni stuff" in all caps. under the blue box at the bottom of the banner is more light blue text that reads "cripplepunk is for the physically disabled only" in all caps. on either side of the banner is an image of ryn from the show siren staring off to the side. :end id]

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loquaciousquark · 8 months

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Final Thoughts

Okay! I went back and replayed the final sequence again and was much, much happier with both how everyone looked sans helmets and with some randomly varied flavor text in the background. I remain really, really happy overall with how this game ended both generally and for my particular runthrough.

The run-up to the Morphic Pool was really, REALLY creepy, and I liked the ways they threw all the li'l brainies at you to start wearing down the group resources. It does remain hilarious that the noodle-armed rogue was rowing the boat, though maybe that's why we couldn't get out of the way of the stalactite in time. The brain was fun gross and I couldn't quite tell--was the voice the same as the narrator? That would have been a nice touch! I did absolutely roll a natural 20 on that DC 99 check to Dominate the Brain (loved that setup in the dialogue window), but alas, the brain took off to destroy everything anyway. The biggest issue I had here was figuring out how to get past that dumb pile of rocks for that very mediocre chest.

In the Astral Plane, I managed to get enough brains to craft several potions of psychic resistance that I never used, but which made me feel better to have. There was never a chance my Tav was going to let Orpheus stay bound (I'm still working on her backstory, but I know she comes into the game feeling strongly anti-authoritarian and only gets moreso over the course of the events), so the only question I had was what was going to happen to the Emperor when I made that choice.

Sidebar--the Ansur fight & environ was one of my absolute favorite locales of the entire game. I loved the set design, the puzzles, the music, the reveals, and the final fight--I thought it was a fantastic setpiece altogether, and the reveal that the Dream Guardian was not only an illithid, but Balduran, made me actually gasp. Getting a conclusion to that questline as narratively satisfying as this one made me really happy, and Wyll's response to its conclusion with his dad--becoming the Blade of Avernus--I also thought was incredibly fitting for both that character and the choices he made within this world.

Anyway, I played through becoming an illithid just to see what happened (Astarion's comment about preferring any option that doesn't change your beautiful face--I felt that, bro), and as soon as I saw that grey triangle torso I was like, nope, sorry Prince, tagging you right back in on this one. Just can't do it, even when the fate of the city's on the line. I've spent too many hours looking at her janky eyes and her scarred lip to turn them all into tentacles now. I wasn't surprised the Emperor turned on me, but I didn't expect him to just full-on go Netherbrain and leave us in his rainbow skull.

I loved, loved, love the rally scene in the High Hall. What an awesome way to remind you of how many ways you've made a difference in some of these quests. The owlbear & Dannon along with the Strange Ox were my favorites, but seeing Barcus, Zevlor, and even Isobel & Dame Aylin was just wonderful. Really loved this entire sequence.

This is the first time I've ever really both utilized summoned allies in a big fight like this and also felt how much they turned the tide! A fantastic balanced encounter in the courtyard, and I called down so many Harpers & Fists & the owlbear & the dragonfire (so COOL) and Yurgir (got stuck in a building and did poke damage for the rest of the fight) and Rolan's tower (absolutely LOVED that you could save his fam & they could come live with him). It truly took an encounter that was really, really difficult into something absolutely manageable and in some ways quite easy. They told you to gather allies and by GOD I GATHERED ALLIES. I feel rewarded for my exploration!!

Of course, it then became utterly paramount to keep all summoned allies alive, but thankfully that wasn't much of an issue. My rogue by the end of this had Celestial Haste, two cunning action dashes, extra movement from momentum, and could easily clear 120+ ft a round and still have actions at the end of her movement. Plus she had a longbow that gave Guiding Bolt on a hit (GOD it's such a good longbow, I want to go back and play more combat just to play with it again), so even the few times the mindflayers were able to Dominate some Harpers I was able to get over there with either her or Lae'zel jumping rampart to rampart across the entire map & break their concentration. A super fun, exciting fight with a lot of variety. Orpheus is powerful as a mindflayer! The power is not small! He just doesn't have a horizontal mouth or a nose anymore & I can't do that to Tav!

Still never figured out how to get into that blocked-off area at the south of that map. Found a random forum post that suggested there was a chasm you could jump into to access the "Upper City Sewers," but the only things I found in the chasms was death, womp womp.

Anyway, got up to the brain (very cool cutscene! Not a snowball's chance my Tav was actually able to haul herself up that stem!) and REALLY liked the brain fight. I didn't have any issues navigating it (though a timer on the battle is always cool!) and only got Lae'zel & Orpheus killed once on the first run when I didn't understand how the Marked for Negation electric balls worked. The final cutscene where the brain fell in the water was beautifully animated; I loved seeing those NPCs keep cropping up in this sequence. I liked the image of everyone hauling themselves out of the bay onto the dock & Astarion complaining bitterly about how often he's having to swim on this trip.

My first run-through of the final dock conversation made me very sad. I didn't like Minsc's pithy comment about sunflowers for Astarion at all, and I hated watching Karlach's heart break behind that hideous helmet. (The stats were so good, and the aesthetics were so awful...she was in my party 99% of the time so Hide Helmet worked almost always...except when it mattered the most, ugh.) The second time, being able to see her face & Wyll's really helped that scene land and it really, really worked for me. I still don't think there's a fantastic in-universe Watsonian explanation for why we can't fix her engine for good with all these acres of infernal iron we've been collecting, but ACCEPTING THAT ON FACE VALUE FOR THE MOMENT I thought the writing and acting in that entire sequence were beautiful. Karlach's voice actress in particular just wrecked me. Beautiful, beautiful writing at the end; just wish the structural tentpoles were a little stronger to justify the moment.

On my second, helmet-less runthrough, when Astarion started to burn, Halsin made a much more sober comment along the lines of "he will miss that freedom; it may be some time before we see him again," and I much preferred that. It felt right in line with how my Tav felt about the situation, and she was very grateful for his empathy there. I still wish we'd figured out a way to have a celebration or something together, though I appreciate Wyll & Karlach's absence would have put a serious damper on things.

I am glad, I think, that I waited to see Karlach's ending after the patch. This read so determinedly hopeful, even with the very bittersweet sting, that I think to have anything less would have really undercut her journey even more than the options we currently have. All in all, I was very satisfied with sending her and Wyll to Avernus while we figure out how to fix her. Their final cutscene charging into the credits was the bomb.

The Astarion wrap-up scene was almost, ALMOST perfect. The choice to tell him we'd find a way to get him back in the sun was EXACTLY what I wanted to say (which was a theme in this game--there were only a handful of places in the entire game where I was frustrated by not being able to react the way I wanted--so impressive, Larian!). I just wish they'd been able to have one kiss in a room with walls and a ceiling, weh.

Anyway! The game is over, I'm immensely satisfied with all outcomes and party storylines with a few minor asterisks here and there, and I'm already plotting out several pieces to flesh out the places I want to explore. The characters are so rich and dynamic and reactive, the world feels so very real and robust, and I'm eager to live in it a little longer. I don't think I'm going to start another playthrough anytime soon--for me my first run is usually "canon", and I want to sit and marinate in this version of the world a little longer--but eventually I'll probably try a Durge just to see what the deal is. It'll honestly be incredibly hard not to romance Astarion, but we'll see! Maybe I'll just make Tavish again with a tweaked backstory. I don't know much about the Durge at all, so it'd be pretty blind!

What a good game. What a good time! I probably will go back and see what achievements I can pull easily--I was delighted to get one for "saving every tiefling possible through the end of the game," yeah boiiiii. Now to unblacklist everyone and see what the heck I've missed out on while spending every waking moment smooching an insufferable elf!

#quark plays bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #tavish gale

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