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daydreamingyuta · 2 days

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do u know the old viral tweet that goes something like the op went on a date with a guy and when they kissed the guy’s watch suddenly beeped loudly due to his heart rate?

can i request a drabble because that one is sooo mark coded lmao😭🫶🏻

Heartbeat | Mark Lee

wc: drabble, 385 a/n: omg yes I remember that tweet, I literally thought it was the cutest thing everr and you're so right, it’s so mark coded!! I hope you enjoy <3

“Is this ok?” Mark asks you with soft eyes, intertwining his fingers with yours. You smile at him and nod, a soft ‘Yes’ escapes your lips.

Mark shifts his gaze onto the sidewalk ahead of him, trying so hard to hide his smile but failing miserably. You see his sweet smile out the corner of your eye, and your heart skips a beat. You’ve never been on a first date like this, where everything just feels so right and so easy. You honestly never want the date to end, which is why you found yourselves walking around enjoying each other's company way after the date should have already ended.

You feel Mark's eyes focus back onto you, “What?” You ask shyly.

“Nothing I just-“ His voice cracks a little bit and you can tell he’s nervous. You’re making him nervous. “I know I already like said this before, but you’re just so beautiful.”

He’s been complimenting you all evening and each and every time it’s made you completely melt. You were going to say some iteration of ‘thank you’ but then you turned to face him, feeling very brave all of a sudden. “…you should kiss me, Mark.”

Your request takes him off guard for a second, “You want me to kiss you?”

“I mean, if you wanna.” You say looking up at him, watching as he places both hands on your waist, pulling you in close. You melt into the kiss, his lips soft as butter, until you hear a loud beeping noise go off. You both break apart from the kiss and look down at where the noise is coming from, Marks watch. He looks down at it, eyes wide and you catch a glimpse at what the watch face says, ‘abnormal heart rate detected.’

“...Is that because of me?”

Mark nods his head, clearly a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I forgot it does that.”

“No, don't apologize, I think it’s really cute.” You say, flashing him a smile.

“Yeah?” His eyes light up again.

You nod your head at him, “Yeah but next time you kiss me we should be more careful, for your heart's sake. Maybe make sure you're sitting down first?”

He laughs and it's the prettiest noise you’ve ever heard in your whole life, “Yeah, I think that’ll be good.”

#mark lee #nct #fluff #nct 127 #k-pop #drabble #imagine #nct dream #nct scenarios #fanfiction #fanfic #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you

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orangekittyenergy · 2 days

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A little smutty ficlet (smutlet? Idk)

Gale x Reader (you - no mention of description or pronouns)

NSFW - 18+, blindfolded Gale, teasing, idk how many words I wrote this on my phone in a flurry

(Don't mind me, had to get a brain worm out so I could focus on my longer fic 😅)

Gale moans softly, his body tensing and wriggling beneath you. He reaches, as if by instinct, to the blindfold that covers his eyes. Quick as ever you grab his hands and force them back down to the bed.

"Tsk. Naughty." You say with a smirk down at him. He can't see you but you know he can hear the mirth in your voice; even if it is to chastise him.

He squirms again.

"I want to see you, my love." He breathes out, his chest heaving.

"In due time." You practically whisper, leaning down to let your breath gaze over his lips. He tilts his chin up, pushing out his lips, searching for a kiss but you have already pulled away.

"Can I touch you at least?" He practically whimpers, his hands clutching desperately at the sheets below your bodies. A smile plays at the corner of his lips; he's enjoying this as much as you are.

"In." You start to crawl backwards and place a kiss on his collar bone. "Due." A light flick of your wet tongue over one of his nipples. "Time." You're practically off him fully and place one final kiss at his navel.

He groans again. This time it's a noise of frustration. Most likely mourning the loss of contact of your warm body pressed against his.

Face to face with his groin, his stiff cock throbs beneath the fabric of his underwear. Whisper light, you trail a finger across it, outlining it with the barest of touches.

He gasps hard and you look up to see his jaw fall open. A wicked smile crosses your face. This was finally payback. All his nights insisting on spending hours between your own thighs, overstimulating you, teasing orgasm after orgasm from your body until you could barely move.

Every time, you said you'd pay him back through your chapped lips. But he would just smiled at you, give you a kiss, and the next time you were naked you fell into the same trap of his.

But Finally. Finally. You had caught him first. Pulling him to the bed and practically forcing him to accept the same devotion he gave to you. Mostly devotion... Maybe a little teasing.

One hand trailing around the upper part of his thigh your other goes back to his erection; softly touching it at first with your palm then more firmly as you slowly rub your hand up and down.

He moans loudly again and you look up to see his hands lift and twitch.

"No touching, remember." You remind him, your voice playfully sharp. He's touched you enough; this was your turn.

He sucks in a sharp gasp of air and lets his hands fall back down.

"I remember." His voice shakes as he answers and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

You give him another stroke of his cloth covered cock as a reward. After a moment of teasing, his pulse pounding beneath your careful hands you gently pull down his underwear down a touch and ease his hardness out. The movement alone, your warm palm finally touching his aching flesh, is enough to bring forth another moan from his lips.

You smile again and let out a satisfied breath, letting him feel it, hot against his skin. You feel his whole body shudder, again, at the barest of your teasing touches. You lick your lips, planting careful kisses along his thighs, working your way closer and closer to your main goal.

"Gods, please." He groans out. "Touch me. Anything."

You haven't even started yet and he was practically begging, panting and quivering from the anticipation alone.

"Since you've been good." You breathe out again and slowly give him a long slow lick with your tongue, from base to tip, before pulling away again to wrap your palm around him instead.

You were in no rush. This was going to be a delightfully long night.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale smut #gale x reader #uhh i wrote this in a hot minute so sorry for typos #my writing

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ghouljams · 24 hours

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About regency!Gaz & Birdie:

Does Birdie realise what "I should have married you when I had the chance," means? Or does she just think Gaz saw her at a ball/on a walk once?

There would be so many awkward ways for the reveal to go if she doesn’t. Like what if she only realises it on their wedding night because he/ what he does feels a bit too familiar & feels awkward about bringing up how „hey, Bug‘s dad did that move too.“. Or alternatively they are out for a walk with Bug and run into someone they do not know personally (met at a ball once, or friend-of-a-friend) and they carbon date Gaz & Birdie‘s marriage by Bug‘s age (because why wouldn‘t that baby be her husband‘s, they look so alike), and commenting about what a great year that was for marriage or sth.

(If you want to upset Gaz, the acquaintance could know that they are only courting & comment on how Birdie must feel about having been widowed by Bug‘s father … what a shame they didn‘t have more children, Bug is such an adorable sweetheart)

There's a certainly level of gentleness that Kyle has with you, a tenderness you would have thought reserved for couples thirty years into a marriage. Long lived love matches. You know why, it nags in the back of your mind; the man that fathered your child, and the man that sweeps his thumb over your cheek are one and the same. It's the way he tips his head to kiss you, the way his lips curve against yours when you're alone. It's the way his eyes sparkle in the dim light. It's the way he whispers it to you, the way the brush of his lips makes you shiver as his voice murmurs in your ear:

"I told you I'd come back for you."

Not that you hadn't suspected as much when he mentioned marrying you "when he had the chance" though that's a stretch. A man bound for deployment the next day, and you sneaking out in the wee hours of the morning. What chance could he have had? Did he want to drag you before a priest with your virtue still dripping down your leg?

Still, you can't find cause to complain. Not when he's so soft with you. Your mother disapproves of his flagrant displays of affection, but... you can't find it in yourself to care. Kyle tips your head to kiss your cheek, finds every reason to tug your gloves off and kiss the tips of your fingers, sweeps you off your feet just to look up at you. He pulls you along with him in all his business, invites you to inspect his home, and you find yourself reading his letters until your lamp is running out of oil.

He sneaks in your window, and smiles wide when you ask him what exactly he thinks he's doing. "Remedying something," He tells you. Well, you can't exactly force him back out the window, and you certainly can't take him out the front door. So he stays.

Once again you find yourself on your back before your wedding night. Only this time Kyle won't let you shy away from his gaze. He watches you with such a fondness it makes your chest feel full to bursting, your heart clenching almost as tightly as your cunt does. He's quiet when he speaks to you, gentling. You take him so well, feel so good, gorgeous, perfect, as pretty as he remembers. His thrusts are slow, savoring the feeling of you as he pulls out. He's bigger than you remember, stretching you out each time he pushes in. Or maybe you're not as ruined as your mother says. You don't feel ruined.

Kyle doesn't look at you like you're ruined, doesn't shy away from kissing you, from letting you claw at his back or whimper against his lips. He swallows every sound you make, and groans at the way you clench around him. You can almost feel the veins that run along his shaft, the way they drag against your soft walls makes you shudder. He angles your hips, and apologizes softly for the discomfort. Though discomfort is not how you'd describe it. He thrusts into you and hits something that makes your back bow, your stomach so warm and tight that he has to hold his hand over your mouth to stop the noise. He praises you, tells you sweet things, calls you names.

"Good girl, know that felt good mama." Cooing in your ear as he grinds his cock into you, his hand closed tight over your mouth as you arch up against his chest. "You wanna do that again for me?" You nod against his hand, and he pushes into you harder, faster. You see stars, sob when you know he'll keep you quiet. His hard cock knocks against that lovely spot like it was made for him, makes you tighten and tighten and tighten until you can hardly stand it. Perched at the edge of something without coming down. You squeeze around his cock, clench so he has to bully that lovely cock into you again and again. You swear you'll have his shape imprinted on your insides when he's finished.

Then his fingers find the tingly little bundle of nerves that yours always seem to, and you realize it's not his finish he's looking for. Kyle draws tight little circles over your clit, dips his fingers down to collect the foaming slick from your entrance and drag it back, easing the slide of his loving hands. You whine, shake and shiver at the heat that courses through you, that winds its tendrils around the tightness until you see white and can't do anything but shake under him.

Kyle's not far behind, burying himself in you and flooding you with his release. Your eyes flutter, feeling the heat of his come pooling in your cunt, it only took one night to get you pregnant last time, you wonder if he's planning on doing it again. If that's what he's remedying, not being here with you through the process. He doesn't pull out, grinding his cock into you instead to coax you through your aftershocks. Your hips jump and your stomach clenches, you lock your legs around him and let him pull that desperation from you until you can't take it anymore.

He doesn't leave when he does finally pull out. He finds a washcloth and wipes you clean, then settles down beside you in bed.

"Always wanted to wake up next to you," He tells you, pulling you against his chest.

"You'll have to leave right after." You tell him. You can't deny that the idea warms something in you, but the risk of getting caught...

"Still," Kyle hums, "better late than never."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x you #kyle gaz smut #gaz garrick #gaz modern warfare #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #gaz x reader #f!reader #oc: birdie #regency au

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lilydalexf · 3 days

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A fic being creepy or scary is up to personal interpretation, but here are some very good creepy, scary, or horror X-Files fics that I would generally consider in a category like Finding Rokovoko by prufrock's love (which I recced here), though I don't know if anything is quite like that fic. These asks and another I already partly answered are so old (one at least 4 years old), but thank you, anons! It took me a too long while, but I liked putting together this list. Enjoy! The stories in the list below aren't Halloween stories. Some recs of creepy or scary fics are in my Halloween fic rec lists: part 1, part 2. Not listed below are casefiles by @syntax6, which all get a rec.

An Awful Noise by 221Browncoat (@whumpdoyoumean) Mulder's injured and there's something in the woods. The Barn by @discordantwords The light stung her eyes and Scully shut them tightly, feeling her skin prickle uncomfortably in the heat as she tried to remember what, how, why–why she was lying on her stomach on the dusty ground, fingers scrabbling in the dirt...

Bonemeal by Magdeleine Here there be Pigs. Brumal Harvest by DarlaBlack (@sigritandtheelves) Mulder and Scully are trapped deep in the wintry Ozarks while something stalks them from the shadows… The Crouching Thing by se_parsons Sometimes we see things we don't want to see.

Das Ding by @teethnbone Some grassy barrows, some big gold fields. Every Sparrow Falling by Alloway Deadly birds, mysterious soldiers and abandoned carnivals lead Mulder and Scully to small-town America, where they discover that dwelling on the past can be a very dangerous thing. The Fox and the Howned by K. D. Enriquez A psychotic serial killer from Mulder's past returns for vengeance. Gates of Hell by @alienqueequeg In the first case after her remission from cancer, Scully is forced to confront a disturbing time in her past. Ten bodies are found buried outside an abandoned hospital in Northern California, all desecrated in a way that is reminiscent of horrifying medical experiments that took place there almost fifty years ago. While navigating the complexities of a changing relationship, Scully and Mulder work to uncover a long-buried evil and hope to solve a cold case that has haunted Scully for years.

Heuvelmans' On the Track by The_Mythpoeic (@mashnotesofthemythpoeic) In which Scully becomes a Consortium doctor, and Mulder moves heaven and earth. Infinity by Steven G. Barnes Mulder and Scully investigate strange occurrences linked to a psychic, and find themselves drawn into a nightmare. La Llorona by @bohoartist Mulder and Scully investigate the tale of the ghostly La Llorona. Nevermore by FridaysAt9 The raven outside Scully’s window rattles her nerves, leading her to a late night visit to Mulder’s apartment for a little comfort. Nowhere to Hide by Thalia D'Muse Someone from Scully's past resurfaces...

Paper Saints by Jill Selby Set post-“Fight the Future” Shine by Ainon Mulder and Scully come to investigate multiple deaths in one family. Silver Cornet by Bonetree Set just after "Je Souhaite," Mulder and Scully take a ride on a mysterious train that's carrying more secrets than either can imagine. snow in april by skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking) Dealing with the fallout from Mulder's return, Mulder and Scully find themselves in the midst of a strange case in a small town.

The Summoning of Nikola Price by @alienqueequeg Mulder and Scully spend a weekend in a haunted house with psychics attempting to communicate with the ghost of powerful spiritualist. Set sometime after One Son and before Milagro. The Three Lost Children by @baronessblixen Mulder takes Scully to an abandoned house that's said to be haunted. Scully doesn't believe in that sort of thing but then things start to get spooky. The Vardoger by Corinne Hansen "I'm inclined to think we are all ghosts--every one of us." Henrik Ibsen Waldron Island by @sisterspooky1013 Visit beautiful Waldron Island: the vacation of your dreams. We Could Have Made Music by @discordantwords They are fifteen years old, hale and hearty and healthy, tall and pale and quiet as churchmice. They have grown up to the music of Six's madness, her sobs and sniffles and laughter, the scrape of teeth against metal, the rasp of teeth against skin, the sick sweet wet sounds of tearing flesh.

#fic rec #roundup #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #anon #asks

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hannahssimblr · 1 day

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That evening after I drive home the house is a battlefield. As soon as I let myself into the hallway the sounds of some escalating conflict are sweeping through from the kitchen, but it doesn’t surprise me. It’s been this way for months. I just toss my car keys onto the table and head upstairs.

“Think about the way you make me live!” My mother shrieks as I shuffle through my desk drawer to retrieve my iPod and the noise cancelling headphones I use for my laptop. My dad says something in response, his rumbling tones infuriatingly calm, unfazed. He always speaks to her with such a patronising air of reasonableness, so honestly it’s no wonder she’s going insane.

“Ivy?” I knock on her bedroom door, “I’m back. Can I come in?”

Her voice is quiet within, “Yeah.”

“Hey, what’s up?” The noise from downstairs is louder I come inside, but Ivy’s room is right above the kitchen. I know she has been listening. She is perched on her bed kneading a corner of her blanket in her little hands, body tense and static like a startled cat.

Mom raises her voice even further in shocked outrage, “What are you saying? Do you regret our children?”

“I just bought a cool new album,” I say, “do you want to hear it?”

“What’s it called?”

“Contra. You remember Vampire Weekend, right?”

“Um...”

“You liked their last album.”

“Did I?”

“Here,” I climb to my knees in front of her and plop the headphones onto her head. They’re big on her and want to slip down towards her jaw until i carefully adjust them while she watches me with interest. Everything I do is interesting to Ivy, even my thumb circling the dial on my iPod as I navigate to the first song on the album. I grin into her face, “can you hear me?”

She nods, so I crank it up, “how about now?”

She gasps, “It’s so loud! I can’t hear you!”

“Good,” and I sit right by her, on the floor by her bed while she lays back and tries to hum along to songs she's never heard before. She does it in mom's car every time the radio comes on, which is apparently irritating, but I don't think so. She's a musical kid who is just trying to work something out in her head.

As I listen to her weird little melodies I doodle with a ballpoint pen I found in the pocket of my jacket. I've flipped to the back page of one of her school copy books, and I know she doesn’t mind, she can bring them into school and tell her classmates that she did them if she likes.

Every now and again pieces of the argument are clear enough to understand, mostly mom’s side. “You do nothing around here, what are you talking about?” She screams, “You just sit in your office all night and-” some muffled aggression. Then at one point she brings up Fergal from work, which is a poor choice, because it really sets dad off. I know this because I finally hear a shocked “how dare you!” from him, which seems fair, actually.

Fergal from work is her boyfriend. Or was, maybe, I don’t ask. All I know is that Fergal from work exists and that my mother was having an affair with him for, like, two years or something. I googled him when I first started hearing his name thrown around like daggers through the rooms of this house, and he’s pretty much how you might imagine a Fergal. He’s older, weedier and less good looking than my father, with hair so fine and light that his eyebrows are hardly visible and a hairline like the tide has gone out on it, but his smile is sort of kind. His LinkedIn picture has him smiling broadly and the lines on his face and around his eyes suggest that he’s spent a good chunk of his life doing just that. Smiling. Aside from likely being nice, he’s probably ten times more interesting than Christopher too, which has to be the real selling point. I bet that listens to her when she talks to him and makes her laugh, if she’s still capable of that, so I can’t really be angry with her about Fergal. I might have done the same thing as she did if I ever felt so trapped.

I must be listening too obviously because Ivy slips the headphones off. “What are they saying?”

“Stupid shit, Ives, it’s not interesting.”

She pauses and says in a very small voice, “Do you think they’ll get a divorce?”

I turn to her, “They might. But I don’t think it’d be such a bad idea. Do you?”

She shrugs.

“At least if they divorced they’d stop fighting.” At least eventually.

“They fight a lot,” she whispers, “I hate it.”

“Yeah, same.”

“What will happen to us? What if neither of them wants us?”

This surprises a laugh right out of me, “It's not like they'll have a choice. Did you think we’d get thrown into an orphanage or something?”

“Maybe.”

“I think you’ve been reading too many of those Jacqueline Wilson books about the kids from broken homes. Next time we go to the library we’ll get you something a bit less sad and tragic, do you think?”

She shrugs, but I'll get her into Goosebumps yet. I am determined.

“You want to know what I think?”

A nod.

“I think them being divorced would actually be fine, because at least they wouldn’t be doing this all the time,” I tilt my head toward the floor, shaking with the reverberation of the slamming patio door, “And also we probably wouldn’t have to be around dad half as often.”

Ivy looks conflicted, “Well I don’t not want a dad.”

I almost tell her that Christopher isn’t that interested in his role as her father and the way that he interacts, or more accurately fails to interact with her, is not normal, even if it’s what she’s used to, and that I bet Fergal would be a better dad, but I figure it’s probably not the wisest to mention any of that.

“He’ll still always be your dad, just like how mom will always be your mom and I’ll always be your brother, you know? No matter what happens or how things change. You're made from him, you know? That doesn't just go away.”

“I don’t want change.”

“Everything changes, all of the time.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. Things move on whether you like it or not, and you have to accept it.”

Her eyes fill with tears, “I don’t want you to move away either.”

“No, c’mon,” I scramble onto her bed and pull her into my chest, “I know, but I can’t stay here forever, I’m an adult now, I’m going to have to go, but it’s not right away…”

“Yes, but soon.”

I hesitate, “Oh, Ivy, it’s, like-”

“And then it’ll be just me, and everything will be different,” as tears overflow I understand that it’s not just about this, it’s about everything, all of the chaos and the disruption that I cannot fix. I just shush her and rock her side to side. It’s hard for her, but I refuse to lie to her about what might happen.

“I need to move away, I feel like I don’t have another option.”

“But why?”

“I- I think you’ll get it when you’re older, maybe. It's just very important to me.”

“I won’t see you anymore.”

“Yes you will, maybe not as much, but you’ll get used to it really quickly. And imagine if I went to college somewhere really exciting, you could come and see me and we could do all kinds of fun stuff, yeah? Like if I’m in Paris, imagine, I could take you to Disneyland.”

She sniffles, “Paris?”

“Yeah, you loved Paris a couple of years ago, right?”

She nods and rubs her eyes, “Could we try and go up the Eiffel Tower again?”

“Duh, and you’d be old enough not to be so scared.”

“Maybe-” a thick swallow “maybe even your new house would have a balcony and we could see it from there.”

“Oh, for sure, and we’d get pastries from the bakery downstairs in the mornings, they'd just so happen to be best ones ever, and there’d be a man playing the accordion outside- no, everywhere, like, no matter where we go, he’s there with his swirly little French Guy moustache...”

She giggles, “Is he following us around?”

“Oh, yeah, a total stalker, actually. Maybe we’d have to call the French police on him.”

We both laugh as she dries her face with her sleeves. Coming up with all the very French things we would do in Paris, every detail down to the layout of my beautiful Haussmann style apartment overlooking the Seine is nice.

I'm not stupid, of course, I know perfectly well that the reality of a move to Paris would involve me and Michelle stuffed into a Chambre de Bonne tiny enough to touch both walls at the same time, tripping over half baked art projects and every possession we own, our pent up frustration causing us to have screaming matches that would wake up the whole arrondissement, but it’s nice to be an idealist for a minute or two.

“Where else could you live?” she asks me once we’ve exhausted all of the parisian stereotypes and run out of hypotheticals.

“Hmm, how about Amsterdam?”

“Oh! Anne Frank lived there, we read the book at school last year.”

I tell her that yes, if I lived there I’d take her to see the house with that stairway hidden behind the bookcase, and then we would... cycle around the place and annoy everyone because she’s so unsteady on her bike. I make up a story about how she keeps swerving out of her lane and getting in everybody's way, eventually causing a giant bike pile up along the canal like some sort of rat king of Dutch cyclists.

“Where else!”

“Um, Berlin...” and I purse my lips and try to think of things to do in Berlin that are appropriate for a nine year old, but for some reason all I can think of is a surly line of leather clad druggies in front of a techno club. “They like going to nightclubs, I guess…”

“I can go to a nightclub.”

“Yeah, as if! You’d hate it, it’s just loud music and everyone bumping into you. Hey, you know there’s one nightclub in Berlin that’s so exclusive that they only let the coolest people in Europe inside? You have to wait in line for hours and if they think you’re even a little bit uncool then they send you home.”

Her eyes get wide, “Really? Hm. I think I could get in.”

The idea of Ivy being let into Berghain makes me guffaw, “Oh, you think so, do you?”

“Yeah I’m cool enough!”

“No you aren’t.”

“I am,” she leaps up and pretends to strangle me while I hold her at arm's length, “there’s no such thing as a cool nine year old.”

“There’s no such thing as a cool eighteen year old either.”

“Uh! There is, you're looking at one. I would get into that club, no doubt.”

“No you wouldn’t, they wouldn’t even let you in the line.”

“Nah, they’d beg me to come in because I’d make it cooler.”

“They’d see you coming and pretend to be closed.”

As we laugh and make stupid, childish jokes at one another I’m aware of an acceptance I feel with her that I don’t around other people. I’m never really so blatantly stupid and goofy in public, but Ivy, who has become my favourite person in the world, no matter what I do or say it’s funny, and she never thinks I’m weird, at least not in a bad way. I can fully let my guard down. Even though the fighting has stopped I don't really want to leave, but the moon has risen now, and the grasshoppers are chirping. Ivy has to sleep.

I gather up my headphones and iPod and get up, despite her protests and attempts to come up with more funny things we might do as we galivant through fictional Europe.

“You're stalling,” I say, “you know well you have to go to sleep now.”

“No, no! Just one more thing!”

“Nope! Sorry! And don’t forget to brush your teeth, or I’ll tell dad.”

She pulls her ugliest face. She knows I’d never, but it’s funny, like telling a christian kid that Satan is watching.

I shut the door very gently. It's not particularly late, maybe ten, but the house is morgue quiet, almost eerie, like the aftermath of a hurricane.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #IVY #:(#tw: divorce

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kurjakani · 2 days

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They symbols section for those of asks with Preyer? They look really cool :3

*doodle for sleep question :D

Copypasting my short info of Preyer from my oc blog here for clarity: Preyer | stole a banned, self replicating, injectable nanotechnology known to transform bodies beyond recognition. Shares this with their followers, a rag tag group of bodymodification enthusiast.

details about ocs! - ask game

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

HMMM i don't think Preyer themself GRAVITATES towards music as a freetime activity, however I do think they like it and that a lot of their followers/friends like it! So, since they all spend a lot of time together, Preyer ends up listening to a lot of it.

As for what- Preyer loves everything abrahasive and grating, looks & audio & sensation wise so... nails on chalkboard music. Probably a lot of scifi noise music!

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

They speak easier with their original mouth, and they hate that fact. Despite having two mouths, they only have one tongue! Their original face kind of slots over their mouth, and they slip their tongue into the original mouth cavity to use it to speak. They can speak with their new mouth, but it's pretty garbled.

They collect insects, both dead and alive. They still pin them as a hobby!

they were originally a character I made to ship w gyutaro LMFAO >:D liked their look too much and now theyre a machine girlie instead of a demon

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

SUPERB sleeping habits. They spread out all of their limbs, relax and slack. They're a tosser and turner, and a big sleeptalker. They love sleeping w a lot of freedom since they go through a lot of "holding their body in one piece" to hide their transformation from non-friends. They wear corset-like pieces to push the seperated parts of their legs etc back together. They sleep a lot, actually, also. Eeper mom.

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

Honestly probably not? The town in homebound is a very rare move for me where there arent any (non frozen solid) bodies of water nearby. Yes there are swimming halls, probably heated underground, but swimming is kind of an optional skill, and it's really hard to teach preyer anything they have no reason to be interested in. Their biomechanical body IS WATERPROOF, they wouldn't get electrocuted or anything, but its also a lot of thin long limbs that would get tangled up and not make for very good paddles.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

Actually had to think about this, but yeah i think so! :D preyer seems like they'd be a bit of a gun nerd. All futuristic stuff ofc, but still.. However they're more of a blades person.

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

Oh, ZERO true medical knowledge. They almost avoid it subconciously. I do think theyre aight w first aid though, it's nessecary as the transformation they& their friends go through causes a lot of tearing, and makes for very easy infections. Anything further, Miulu takes care of for them.

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

HMMM actually a lil tough to say. I would say Preyer likes the taste of alcohol and the smell of smoke but it's really hard to imagine them drunk? They don't want to admit it but they like being in control too much for that.

TYSM FOR ASKING & LETTING ME RAMBLE ABT THEM!!!

#Ask #Kanitalk #Kaniocs #Ask games

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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 days

Text

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 3: Housebreaking

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

Raph held onto his brother for half of the drive home before Mikey finally broke free and started scuttling about the tank, sniffing everything and nibbling on the edges of the console in curiosity.

"Hey! Hey now, no — bad Angelo, bad!" Donnie scolds, his shell concocting a mechanical arm with a spray bottle and squirting at Mikey.

He hisses at the water, scrambling away and crawling under Raph's chair with a low growl.

"I don't think he likes that, Don," Raph mumbles.

"Well, I don't like him trying to eat my baby," Donnie rebuts, gently cleaning the console and even giving it a kiss for good measure.

"What happened to him?" Leo asks, his voice soft and weak as he glances back at the youngest Hamato, still scrunched up under the eldest's chair, his eyes glowing and reflecting the light around him like a wild dog's.

"I... I don't know," Raph whines. "I didn't even recognize him at first."

Raphael hears Mikey make a sad whimper at that admission. Raph lowers his hand down, and Mikey rubs his face against his knuckles. Leo sets the tank to autopilot and walks over to look at Mikey.

He kneels down slowly, crouching on all fours to get a better look at him. Mikey slinks back slowly before recognition crosses over his face, and he gives his older brother a mild smile.

His tiny sharp teeth glint in the light, causing Leo to lean away and Raph to retract his hand. Mikey stops smiling.

"Oh, Miguel, what did they do to you?" Leo whispers, slowly reaching forwards to cup his face. Mikey purrs at the touch, leaning into it. Leo tries to coax him out, gently tugging his face ever so slowly. Mikey attempts to retract at first, but eventually relents and allows the leader to softly pull his face out into the light for a better inspection.

Mikey's face is covered in scars, scrapes, scratches. His skin is no longer cerulean green, but a much darker, deeper shade of forest green. It contrasts sharply against the bright yellow spots that now cover his face, spotted across his cheeks and eyes, speckling all along his arms and legs. His hands and feet are now claws, and Leo wonders if Mikey can still draw or cook or dance with them. They are sharp, and small red bloodstains are underneath the dirty fingernails.

Leo swallows nervously.

Mikey chirps at him, trying to be positive. At least one thing is still the same...

Leo smiles, and brings him closer for a hug. Mikey sniffs Leo's shoulders and arms before attempting something similar to a hug. His arms drape over him, his tail wraps around Leo and curls over his toes on the opposite side. His tail had barely been more than two or three inches long before, now it must be two or three feet...

Mikey chirrs at him again, attempting to communicate.

"Are... are you trying to talk, bud?" Leo asks, pulling away just enough to get a proper look at Mikey’s expression.

Mikey's face scrunches up as he forces noises from his throat. Soft growls, low groans, grumbles and moans as he attempts to get his vocal chords to work properly again.

Tears start forming in his eyes, frustration bubbling up. His tail whips around in anger, slashing against the console and creating a small gash in the metal.

"Whoah, hey!" Leo says, grabbing Mikey's dotted and spotted arm.

Mikey stares at him in shock and fear.

He can't do it.

He can't get the words out anymore.

His eyes communicate basic emotions. Fear. Panic. Desperation. Utter grief.

"We'll figure it out, bud," Leo promises, rubbing Mikey's arm. "I promise."

Mikey blinks at him.

He tries to smile again. Without showing his teeth.

"Donnie," Leo calls. His twin is trying to fix the gash in the metal. "Goggles?"

Donatello pauses from his repairs and turns to Mikey, flicking his goggles down and inspecting his transformation.

Mikey flinches suddenly, whimpering as Dee starts inspecting him all over. Donnie grabs his arm and lifts it up to scan it, but Mikey starts struggling against him, crying like a little child. His eyes swap between Leo and Raph, begging one of them to help. He opens his mouth and moans at them, trying desperately to speak, say something. All he can manage is croaks and whines.

"Ah, ah...! Ah! Ah! Mmnghh! Ah!"

"Mikey, what's wrong?" Raph asks, worried.

"I'm assuming he doesn't like me poking around him," Donnie suggests. "I'm guessing it has something to do with whoever did this to him."

"What?" Leo asks, his voice cracking. "W-what do you mean?"

"Well, it's obvious enough that Mikey didn't do this to himself," Donnie says flatly. "Therefore, logically, someone else did this to him. He was in a lab, so I'm guessing scientists wanted to either study mutations on other mutants, or maybe they were just experimenting in general. It doesn't really matter at this point. They'll still have to deal with me."

Mikey's eyes widen at Donnie. He slowly relaxes, letting him continue.

"Anyways, I guess me examining him brought up traumatic memories. Scan complete, by the way," he announces, releasing his hold on Mikey's arm.

Mikey scuttles away, still slightly wary of his new surroundings. He creeps around the tank, looking at everything like it's brand new, like he’s never been in this tank before.

"Just don't go biting anything, okay?"

"Or anyone," Raph whispers.

"Did he bite you?" Leo asks in shock.

Raph shows him his hand, and Leo jumps to help clean and bandage it up. For such a small puncture, it's bleeding a lot. And who knows what else has been in Mikey's mouth? They can't risk an infection.

Mikey explores the tank and rediscovers the ice cream machine as Donatello uploads the scans and information to his network. The look on his face says that it probably isn't good news...

"What is it?" Leo asks.

"Just... complicated," Donnie assures him. "Nothing a genius can't fix..."

There is hesitance in his voice. Anxiety. Worry. Doubt.

Fortunately, Mikey doesn't hear it. He's too distracted by the overflow of frozen confections pouring from the nozzle. He flinches and hisses at the cold, sneering at it. He doesn’t like the cold very much.

After a few minutes, they arrive at the lair.

Prev || Next

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #double-mutated mikey #double mutated #double mutated mikey #double mutation #mutated #mutation #ficlet #mikey fanfic #angsty fanfic #fanfic writing #fanfic update #rottmnt fanfiction #fanfiction

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rainba · 3 days

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The street is cold, the ground still damp from the rain. A distant street lamp flickers as moths circle underneath it.

It's been roughly five hours, maybe more since Kairos staked out his Darlings home and he would be lying if he said he wasn't...concerned.

The apartment has been dark and still since you came home, well- there were the times he thought he saw a shadow by one of the windows, but when he tries to get a better look, nothing's there.

He really wants to see what's going on, but an eerily quiet home isn't necessarily unusual for you, what if Darling is inside and they're awake and then they see him? What if they call the police, or...or what if they say they hate him?! It's too risky, but the anxiety is eating him alive.

What if they're not okay? What if they actually need help?...WHAT IF THEY'RE DYING? Oh god, maybe they're dying, he has to do something, he has to do something, he has to do something, he has to do something, he has to!

It doesn't matter if they hate him for this, he just needs to know they're okay. Having made up his mind and a plan of action, Kairos darts across the street and climbs up the water spout to their bedroom window.

Their curtains aren't drawn and he can't see them in here either, in fact it doesn't even look like they've been in here at all. Their bed is still made, no items have been moved or taken, but he knows they're here, he saw them enter the apartment. They got out of their car, keys jingling in their hand, they opened the door, didn't turn on a single light when they did, and nothing since. It's like they just vanished after they crossed the threshold of the door.

This whole thing was starting to freak him out, were they okay or not? Should he leave and call the police?...No, better not. The police are too slow, what if they're in danger?

With that thought spurring him forward, Kairos opens the window and immediately regrets it. An overpowering sense of dread and foreboding enters his body as if the very air inside the home was made of it, every alarm in his body screams at him to leave. To escape and never come back, but he pushes forward, they could be in grave danger! He can't be a coward now! At least that's what he tells himself.

He carefully creeps his way inside, not daring to make a single noise as he feels it may spell his doom if he does. He quietly approaches their bedroom door and grips the knob, his palm sweaty as he slowly, very slowly, opens the door.

The hallway is dark, save for the nightlight towards the end. It illuminates the threshold of your bedroom and the guest bedroom in a cold, distant, blue light...and it also illuminates them.

They're sitting on the floor, their bare back facing him. They're...not wearing any clothes? Why are they just sitting on the floor, staring at the closed door of the guest bedroom? He wants to say something, but he also feels as though he shouldn't. In fact, he feels like he should leave.

Before he could think about it for a moment longer, their arms move, palms pressing against the hardwood as they prepare to stand, and immediately he knows something is wrong. Their arms are bony, and long, their palms seem abnormally large and your fingers are more like twigs than flesh.

As they stand, Kairos feels his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. A horrible bone crunching sound emits through the hallway as they rise, as if the very bones need to be broken and readjusted for them to move, their head disappears into the darkness above, the nightlight not bright enough to allow its light to reach that far. Their legs are about as tall as him, this...this can't be real? They don't look like that, humans don't look like that.

What's happening? Is he dreaming? He hears more crunching and he feels like he wants to vomit. Their spine twists unnaturally and he knows without seeing that its eyes are on him.

He made a mistake, he shouldn't have entered their home. No, maybe the mistake was taking interest in them at all.

I felt like making a spooky drabble, I hope Kairos is thoroughly frightened 💖 and yes the Darling is based off of SCP-096

oh. my. god.

anon... This was so good!!!! The atmosphere, the suspense, everything... Thank you SO much for sharing this with me! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Honestly? This totally sounds like a nightmare Kairos would have. Every night this scenario plays out in his dreams, endlessly repeating itself whenever he dares to close his eyes... His mind is haunted by the horrifying figure that's supposed to be his darling.

What does this all mean? Who knows...

(Oooh, now I'm also imagining Kairos being downright terrified of a monster-hybrid darling such as this, but his love and obsession still remains. ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶ Cold sweat pouring down his face as his darling's freakishly boney fingers slide down his jaw... His heart is throbbing in his chest, he's paralyzed with fear, but he still refuses to leave your side.)

#kairos posting #ask #thank you SO MUCH!!#chefs kiss #yandere oc #yandere x reader #also #im so happy #kairos is very much in-character here hehe

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supeson · 3 days

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je ne sais quoi

hey guys, girls, and gays. thanks.

part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine , part ten, part eleven, part twelve, part thirteen, part fourteen , part fifteen, part sixteen, part seventeen, part eighteen, part nineteen

"Fuckin' stupid, putting it this high up, this is an accident waiting to happen," You mutter under your breath, fingers just grazing the bag of cat food on the top shelf. You step up on your tip toes, the shelf gets no closer. Stepping up onto the shelf helps, giving you another 3 inches, and you grab a corner of the bag, letting out a triumphant noise.

"Gotcha!" 3 inches too many, it seems, as it all gives way and you crash back to the floor, eighteen pound bag of cat food clutched tightly to your chest. You're staring into the fluorescent lights when a sharply manicured hand pops into view.

"Need a hand? I saw your valiant struggle against that dastardly-placed food."

You lift your head and look up. An extremely attractive woman with looks down at you and smiles, her brown eyes crinkling at the corners. You shift the food to the floor beside you and take her hand. "Uh yea, thanks. God, that's embarrassing that you saw that. I would've preferred to have been crushed under the food, actually."

She laughs. She laughs? Your brain short-circuits. "Well, you recover nicely, I'll give you that. What's the name that would've been on the obituary?" You giver her your name as you stare at her with wide eyes. Damn, she's good. She nods as though thinking about it. "Selina Kyle. And here, if you ever find yourself trapped under some cat food, and you can move your arms, give a ring, and I'll come over to dig you out. And hey, if you're not too beat-up after that, maybe we could grab dinner."

She hands you a slip of paper with her name and phone number, gives you a wink, and waltzes down the aisle. You stand there for three uninterrupted minutes before you haul the bag of food off of the floor and start calling Alfred's name.

"-and then she gave me her number, unprompted, isn't that fucking crazy?" you ask, shoving the piece of paper in Bruce's face. You'd put away your pet store findings once you'd gotten home and had gone to find him, finding all of this very funny, if baffling. You'd found him reading in the library, book now closed on the arm of his chair.

Bruce takes it, and turns it over carefully. You immediately backpedal. "I mean, I wasn't gonna call her, obviously, what we have is too important to me, and it's going so well, but this has never happened to me before, and I-"

"Selina Kyle is one if my exes. And she knows I'm Batman."

You deflate. "Oh."

Bruce catches the spiral you're going on. "That's not to say she didn't truly find you attractive, that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that it brings up memories for me. Particularly painful ones. Selina and I, we have an incredibly complicated history, one that almost ended in marriage, if only-"

You kneel in front of him and cup his face with your hands. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Or, even if you want to, but can't right now. I'm in it for the long haul, remember?"

Bruce simply nods and rubs your hand with his own, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Another time, then."

Batman stands on a ledge, surveying the city. The night is quiet, surprisingly, given how warm the weather's been. So quiet, that she couldn't hide the taps of her heels if she wanted to.

"Going silent for a bit," Bruce says into his ear piece, then switches it off and turns around. "What do you want, Selina?"

"Oh, can't a girl just enjoy a night out on the town, Batman? Not all of us have such fulfilling careers," she replies, slinking into view from around the door to the roof. "Or relationships, for that matter."

"Did you know from the beginning?" His eye twitches underneath the mask.

"Honest to god, I didn't. I genuinely thought I was just playing the field, until I saw Alfred as I was leaving. That and Harley showed me some tabloids that weren't afraid of getting sued. I gotta say, this is pretty underwhelming, for you. Not a cape, not a villain, hell, not even somebody remotely famous. I'm impressed, I-"

"Don't talk about them like that. This is different. This is-" His hands are tightening under the cape. A master of his own mind and emotions it seems, until it comes to you.

Selina holds up her hands in surrender and smiles coyly. "Relax, B. I'm just here to tell you I'm not stepping into your territory. I'm not stupid enough to try and take something that's yours again." She pulls out a grappling gun and shoots it off into the night. "Just let me know when you're done, 'kay? I wanna take a turn."

She's gone before Bruce can formulate a reply. He switches his comm back on, and starts making plans.

You've been out at the pool entirely too long, Bruce thinks. Like a cat laying in their favorite window, as soon as it had become warm enough, you were out in the gardens, at the pool. You always told him that given the opportunity, you would stay out there all day, but he hadn't quite believed it until it became an inconvenience to his plans. You've been out there for seven hours now, and likely for longer, now that Dick, Steph, Duke, and Jason have joined you.

"Sir, if I may suggest going to them, instead of waiting for them to come to you?" Alfred asks, hands perfectly poised behind his back.

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. "Thank you, Alfred."

He simply nods. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"Depends on how this goes. I'll let you know."

"Quite good, sir."

Bruce makes his way down to the pool, and walks up just in time to see you break the surface in the deep end, much like a polar bear in their enclosure at the zoo. Jason, Steph, Duke, and Dick have a volleyball game going in the shallow end, while Titus lays in the pavement and watches. His heart clenches when you catch his eye.

"Babe, hey! Are you finally gonna join us? The water's great! Steph says it's too cold, but here she is, right? Of course, Tim told us to drop dead when we invited him, but I think that's just because he's too skinny to appreciate how refreshing this cool water is." You swim up to the edge, smiling wide. His other children snicker.

Bruce kneels down by the edge. "Actually, I came to ask you something, would you mind coming up for a second?"

You note the way his smile falters for a millisecond, and how he tightens his hands. He's nervous. Anything that can make the Bat nervous warrants your full attention, you suppose. "Oh, uh, sure, one sec."

You climb up out of the water, and Bruce thinks you look radiant with the late afternoon sun behind you. You join him on the lounge chairs, toweling yourself off carefully. Bruce has never felt anxious until this moment right here. "Okay, big man, shoot."

Bruce clears his throat. "Right. Yes. So, I've been thinking. About our relationship, specifically, and how much it has changed me. Changed us, for the better. I never thought that something like this, given my line of work, would ever be possible, but you seem to have proven me wrong, and gone against every calculation I could have had for our relationship to play out. And it has been the greatest thing to behold, really. I want to deepen our commitment. I want us to commit to each other, despite our problems." Bruce pulls a small box out of his pocket, and flips it open. Sitting in the center are two rings, both with a silver band, but one with a ring of some crushed blue stone inlaid, and another with your favorite color instead of blue. He says your name like it's the first time he's ever said it before. "I love you, will you marry me?"

You immediately stand up, going, "Are you fucking sure?"

His children stare at him in shock, while Alfred simply walks down the pathway, champagne and sparkling grape juice in hand. Bruce's eyebrows start to draw in, and you speak quickly. "Shut up, shut up! I know you're sure, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that, yes! I meant to say yes, sure, whatever! I just, I don't, I've never-"

Bruce shoots up and kisses you. There are stars behind your eyes as you comprehend what's just happened to you, what's going to happen to you, and all you can think about is that you're soaking the front of his shirt right now. Bruce must not realize he's losing himself a little bit, because just as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, Dick whistles. The two of you spring apart, Bruce combing a hand through his hair in embarrassment, and you burying your face in your towel. Alfred is already passing flutes of champagne around, and Tim and Damian are tearing down the pathway.

"Father, how could you!" "Bruce, holy fuck!"

Bruce just smiles wider than you've ever seen in your life as he pries your left hand away from the towel, and slips the blue ring onto your finger. Looks just like his eyes, you think as you stare in awe.

The sun starts to dip beneath the horizon as you kiss him again, then slip his ring onto his hand. The thought of announcing it to the press, and having to go out into public with him officially makes you nauseous, but that's a freakout for another time. For now, you kiss your fiancé, then throw down to towel and jump back into the pool to cool your heated face. Everybody yells their indignation, but you just hug yourself at the bottom of the pool, incredulous.

#dc #reader insert #batman/reader #batman x reader #batman #bruce wayne/reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne

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books-are-my-life-stuff · 21 hours

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youtube

Mashle: Magic and Muscles Picture Drama Episode 8: The Most Dangerous Place (English Translation)

All right, gonna try doing this again. I'm still not confident about my Japanese skills, but I want to keep training so I'll try to translate this one. Please let me know if I make any mistakes, as neither English nor Japanese is my first language!

Translation under read more!

Mash Burnedead, His Friends, and Their School Life Episode 8: The Most Dangerous Place

Abyss: All right, I suppose we should start by sweeping the floor. Then we can wipe them clean.

Mash: 'Kay. Activities that require physical strength are my specialties.

Abyss: Reliable as always. Though, making you clean the owl's house as a punishment for all the mess at Lang Dorm... That's surprisingly a light punishment, isn't it?

Mash: It's not light at all.

Abyss: Huh?

Mash: The owl's house... is the most dangerous place in this school... or so I think.

Abyss: There's no way...

*an owl comes*

Mash: I'm worried.

*another owl draws near*

Mash: Uh-oh.

*one more owl approaches*

Mash: That was close.

Abyss: W-Why are the owls here so aggressive?! ... No, that does not seem like it, they only target Mash... Just why?

*the owls are pecking on Mash*

Mash: That's what... I've been wondering too... Just why?

Abyss: How strange... I do not sense any hostility coming from Mash to the owls whatsoever either... Mash, what do you think about the owls?

*owls are aggressively pecking on Mash*

Mash: Huh? Hmm... Protein?

Abyss: That's why! They're being aggressive at you because they think you might eat them. So, instead of thinking of them as nutrition, how about thinking of them as friends?

Mash: Friends? Hmm, in that case... *takes out a cream puff and offers it to them* ... Here you go.

Abyss: Please don't offer human foods to them!

Mash: Well, cream puffs are complete sources of nutrition.

Abyss: ... Since owls are small animals, I think we should give them bugs to eat. *offers a bug to one of the owls* Here you go.

*happy owl noises*

Mash: Ohh, that owl seems cheerful now, amazing.

Abyss: No, no. The owls just want to be fed, that's all.

*excited owl noises*

Abyss: You're eating really well. Here you go. *offers some more bugs to the owl*

*even more excited owl noises*

Mash: The way that owl is so happy to eat the bugs... I kind of feel sorry for them...

Abyss: Oh, you're saying something like that again...?

*aggressive poking owl noises*

Mash: Ow.

Abyss: It seems the path of friendship is going to be a tough one.

#mashle magic and muscles #mash burnedead #abyss razor #picture drama #mashleverse #posting this on my blog so i can make adjustments anytime if i make mistakes #the ask earlier reminded me that i still have this on my drafts #oh well time to free it #my translation is very bad i'm sorry

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