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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 5 months

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Hey do you think ya can explain Barnaby and his illusion smoke a bit? It seems really cool and I don't remember if ya talked about it in depth before

sure! this got a bit longer than i expected!

so i was thinking that Barnaby seems like more of a hands-off kinda guy when it comes to altercations. would rather sit back and make funny commentary! so if he Had to get involved, i imagine it would be from a distance and still in an Entertaining Way!

thus - illusion magic! for this au i've been picturing that he got his paws on some illusionary herb in his early teens. for making people laugh, you know! and help out with the farm - illusions could distract animals, convince them to move on to different pastures, calm the chickens for egg-collecting, etc!

Ms. Beagle didn't really approve, since smoking is harmful, but lucky for the both of them this particular plant doesn't deal as much damage when smoked as normal smoking materials would - like tobacco! something to do with the magic properties! so Barnaby mostly used it for chores (when his mama wasn't paying attention, ofc - it's still a bad habit in her eyes) and entertainment purposes.

how it works: on its own, it doesn't do much when burned. it's not like illusions will waft out of the pipe's bowl, or that sniffing it will give someone hallucinations. in order for it to work properly, the user has to inhale properly, form the Intent of what the illusion should be / look like / behave, then purposefully blow the smoke out with that thought firmly in mind. the reach of the smoke depends on the force of Intent, and the intensity depends on the amount inhaled. those that breathe it in / are surrounded by it will see hallucinations of whatever Barnaby - or whoever the user is - wants them to! it can be literally anything! whether or not the target is fooled depends entirely on the individual, but the herb is potent enough that most are convinced that what they "see" is real (auditory hallucinations only occur if the target breathes in the smoke)

upsides: this form of magic is great for distractions, cover, deescalation, and that kind of thing. if needed, Barnaby could stop a fight with one exhale! it's a pretty powerful trick! it also means that Barnaby has built up a tolerance to illusion magic over the years, so where most of the party would be tricked, Barnaby would be unfazed. the only one with total immunity to the form of magic is Wally!

downsides: if Barnaby uses too much in too short of a time, it will get to him. and since he breathes in the largest amount - undiluted at that - it can fuck him up! using it sparingly / using repeated small amounts doesn't do anything. the most it will do is make him feel slightly untethered, but he has an easy time ignoring it / shaking it off.

in mild cases of the magic getting to him, it's like a bad trip. his proprioception is messed with (basically he gets uncharacteristically clumsy & off-balance), he feels like he's falling, anxiety spikes, and his vision is just... off! there are blind spots (im talking actual blind spots, not spots of black), things are moving in ways that they shouldn't, he has mild auditory hallucinations. the others can help ground him by talking to him, touching him, and confirming what's real and what isn't.

in bad cases, it's like that but 10 times worse. on top of all of the previous symptoms being worsened, he gets extremely vivid hallucinations, and they're very often not fun! it's a simultaneous feeling of dying, going insane, and not knowing what the fuck is going on. Barnaby loses sense of where he is, who's where, what's happening. he can get lost in the hallucinations - he has no way to know that they aren't real. in these terrible trips, no one can really help him. they can't get through the hallucinations, and if they do, the magic morphs Barnaby's perception of them and they end up adding to the effects. honestly the best thing for him is to let him rest somewhere with as little sensory input as possible & leave him be until he starts to come down. physical contact does help, since Barnaby understands on an instinctive level that illusions can't touch him, but it doesn't help half as much as it does w/ the mild trips. and again, the presence of someone can make the hallucinations worse.

so! suffice to say! he doesn't like using the herb all that often, and it's why he Stays Out Of It unless absolutely needed. he has two pouches of the herb - one with the strong stuff, reserved for emergencies / one with just a tiny bit of it mixed in with Barnaby's own personal blend for recreational/everyday use. (he also has an emergency tobacco stash in his pack, but that's only for when he's completely out of his usual blend <3)

extra lil scribble that didn't make it into the lil doodle post... i broke his wrist...

#the undiluted one is the blue/purple/pink smoke #while the personal blend changes color depending on his mood #and the personal blend does Not cause illusions!#the herb is included in the blend for cosmetic effects - colorful smoke! - and it has calming affects #so its. yeah its rgb weed last person nailed it on the head #rambles from the bog #wh fantasy au #the other day i was thinking about howdy's first adventure with the neighborhood #and i was like 'ok situation where barnaby has to use a tad too much of the magic'#and i amused myself imagining howdy's shock and panic when barnaby - steady graceful barnaby #staggers a little. looks up at the trees/skies. goes 'oh no' and promptly stumbles and falls on his face. and then just does not get back u #he has to go get poppy to make sure he isnt hurt / also howdy would Not be able to half-drag barn back to camp on his own #that dog is dead weight and staggering all over the place - if they can even unstick his claws from where he's anchored himself #sometimes barnaby will feel the unpleasant trip Incoming and he'll just. lie down right there and then #facedown. gripping the grass like his life depends on it - and also whoever's closest #frank always leaps out of the way when barn starts to Sway bc he does not want to sacrifice his arm for a solid few hours #usually wally is the one to sit with him and happily get his arm bones squeezed into dust <3 #a common thing is barnaby will be like 'the trees/sky is melting and the ground is turning inside-out'#what does that mean! no one knows! he cant explain it when he sobers up!

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orrianreaper · 12 days

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GW2 people - Pitch me YOUR idea for an Expansion!

What's the theme, where are we going, what lore threads are we picking up on, what's the story premise, what mechanics do you think it could have.

I love spitballing ideas when I'm talking with friends so I'm posing the question To Everyone because I know everyone has some pet concepts floating around. As self-indulgent as you'd like, as unrealistic as you like, just throw ideas around, I wanna hear them!

The One I think I have the most rounded ideas for would be an Underwater Expansion. Picking up on the threat of whatever is terrorising the deep oceans, having some exploration of the Largos and bringing back in the Quaggan and the Krait maybe!

I love the sort of depths we get in maps like Frostgorge sound, and underwater combat has badly needed a rework and a tune up - there's loads of skills which straight up don't work and break entire builds underwater, and this would be a perfect excuse to try bring it up to speed. Maybe even make the underwater weapon sets function on land, to satisfy those who're after more weapons. You could make the maps a mix of true underwater and perhaps giant air bubble caves so you still had some land exploration even in maps otherwise set deep under the ocean. A map meta split with land phases and water phases. Additionally as personal bias wish, I'd love map event/meta design more like HoT. A map-wide Story with a few chains with specifically Build into the actual true Meta. I also simply love the idea of having a bunch of enemy designs based of the ocean and the abyss, there's so much incredible inspiration and interesting marine life. and biomes too! Give me a hydrothermal vent section in one of the maps, hell underwater 'water' in the form of brine pool 'quicksand'.

The Turtle might get some more use out of it's underwater, and skimmer would absolutely get spotlight as a skyscale isn't going to get you too far here - hell maybe even some speedy new underwater mount could be a fun addition to the roster.

I can see a plot being around trying to work with the Largos, The 'Terror of the Deep' being a danger and learning from them about how to survive the hostile environment and also convince them work with you to Hunt the 'Terror'. Maybe you come to the area of the ocean with the Quaggans and it's convincing the Largos to take them seriously as allies against whatever you're fighting? A quaggan companion character would be really fun, and you could easily bring back Sayeh al' Rajihd from the personal story given Largos involvement. I think not only would it be something very different in terms of the maps, which granted quite a few people might not like (thalassophobia reasons, or general Dislike of Water Gameplay reasons), but I think a rework of the underwater mechanics would benefit a bunch of places and it's something that really doesn't get touched outside of base game and maybe like, the Leviathans in EoD. There's so much neat creature design inspiriation swimming around out there, and I know so many people love the largos and even if not playable getting to see more of them could be neat! Also - it'd finally make all those legendary full people happy. A Legendary Aquabreather :P.

And a new suite of legendary underwater weapons since the G1 set. (and not themed pretty please make them all Unique.)

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #apollo talks #I would also adore a fully underground give me three-four tangled depthslike cave maps for an asura expansion where they go back undergroun #to explore and something's trying to capitalise on the hole left by Primordus #and something with the Norn heading back up into the northern shiverpeaks again and similarly dealing with #whatever is trying to fill the jormag power vaccum #and how the spirits are doing #there's so much solid stuff to play with

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kelocitta · 11 months

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hey, your art style's really cool, especially the way you draw slugcats and other rain world creatures. would you happen to have a tutorial anywhere? if not, would you ever consider making one?

Closest Ive really done to a tutorial is really just this short thing about slugcat fat distribution, and its not really a tutorial. I don't really know how good I'd be at making one considering my processes aren't very defined and pretty simple

Slugcat for me basically just starts with a circle for the head and I go from there. Theyre kinda just a little tube creature with fat legs. Although when I draw them 'active' i generally have them on their toes, and when at rest their foot is flat. I think keeping the tail big is also an important part of keeping the slugcat shape, you dont want it too thin.

As for the Lizards, Its a mix of the fact I didnt think the feathered look would be good in my solid shape style and the fact that their head is a hardened, protected spot. So I make their head more a distinct piece and go for more of a horned dragonic look than frilly. But honestly i just do whatever i feel like with them in the moment so theyre kinda all over the place

#rain world #ask #long post #if you mean coloring i just kinda wing it #its all solid shapes so i just put new colors where i think the form needs to be broken up a bit to keep the parts visible #which is why i sometimes do the lizard heads as a top and bottom piece with a hinge #but i honestly could not walk you through that i wing so much stuff lmao

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mothslair · 4 months

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Spiral warm ups, thinking about these sky ferrets

#i dont really have any solid ideas for my head canons on these guys only small ideas #it is most likely going to be regurgitating a lot of site lore but oh well #flight rising #art #frfanart #warm up drawing

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vlasdygoth · 8 months

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anniversaries

#ocelhira #mgs #metal gear solid #revolver ocelot #kazuhira miller #id in alt text #deep breath .#i've been working on this all week. it's a weird time of year for me so understandably i'm going a bit crazy #this comic has been brought to you by take me to the river by the talking heads and babooshka by kate bush #the whole back half of my ocelhira playlist really but mostly those two #second panel of the second page is my fav ocelot drawing i've ever done i think #also every time i draw kaz he becomes more and more of a bear so i'm leaning into it #but anyways do you ever think about how technically kaz worked with ocelot way longer than he did with bb. fucked up imo

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puppetmaster13u · 8 months

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Slowly rotating designs for the meat marionette bodies.

Only sketched Dick & Bruce for now, but I like to think that they're partially made from their own blood. Any corpse that doesn't make it to the morgue, human or animal, might get dragged down by tendrils Gemini Home Entertainment style to the Hive.

Apologies if I am spamming, but what do you think @phoenixcatch7? Tried to make Dick look slightly more mammalian or avian compared to Bruce but idk if that came through lol.

#meat marionette au #batman #batman au #dcu #dc #body horror #sketch #art #Bruce is like 15 foot tall if including the ears lol #Dick is like 4 to 4 1/2 feet tall #Of course this is if they're standing on their legs and not on all fours #Random thing but Bruce definitely picks up his kids by their necks like a big mama cat lol #Also helps preens their wings especially since they have feathers unlike him #You can't tell me they can't contort their limbs or turn their head a solid 180 or even more #Omg the kids can use their tails to hang from things upside down or from Bruce's arms like shopping bags lmao #Curse you ADHD for latching on #Knowing it I will get a lot done in like 3 days and then procrastinate for months after lol #Y'know I wonder what Commissioner Gordon thinks about the Bat & what Gothamites in general feel about them #Like they're visibly protecting them but that doesn't make them any less unnerving or terrifying y'know #The bats might not kill but that is in fact a *threat*#Fun fact did you know over half your bones are in your hands :)

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jacksprostate · 2 months

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f Narrator wanting to murder maim mutilate m marla.. or marla/ male marla and narrator/f narrator worsties/besties. or marla/male marla and tyler… or anything with marla/ male marla..

Marlon called me, interrupted me at work, and he said he had a bruise. He said I needed to come and look at it right away, because he needed to know.

This was him, asking me, pounded flank steak, to look and tell him the nature of his bruise.

Marlon hasn't had health insurance in years, so he tries not to think about it, usually. It's easy, since there's no difference when you have health insurance. It's old hat.

But today, he thought about it.

And he noticed a bruise.

So I'm walking up to the Regent hotel after work, and he's in the lobby in his limp little tank top. He'd call it a wifebeater and imagine himself in place of the wife, I'm sure. I wonder if he isn't cold all the time. Mr. Marlon Singer, such a masochist just so he can show off his skeletal body with all the cigarette burns I have to hear him and Tyler laughing over.

I am Jane's abnormal hemorrhoid development.

He doesn't mention what Tyler and I stole from him, even though I think it was all the cash he had. Even though just three days ago he tried to chase me around the house and beat me with a broom. He made me and Tyler go sleep in the junkyard. Buried under our furs, howling at the moon. Maybe I can't fault him for that.

He couldn't keep it here where the guys he brings back could get at it, he said, and sure. But he should've known better than to tell Tyler about it, because now it's bags upon bags of lye being kept in the driest room in the house.

I work on grinding cracks into my remaining teeth as he grabs his neighbors Agatha and Dianne's Meals on Wheels kits. The delivery lady remarks on what a good young man Marlon must be, helping out these old ladies. Oh, yeah. A real, upstanding, mummified rat of a man. Maybe he helped them into the ditch. He yaps at me the entire walk up to his room, and I don't hear a word as I methodically rip up the skin around Tyler's kiss on my hand with a broken nail. It's been infected since Tuesday, and the ring of puffy red flesh makes the ghost of her lips white like the center of a neon tube. Always buzzing.

We get to his room, he says to me, "One of these boxes is for you, you know."

I think about all the women who bother to use what little time they have to operate charities that keep the poor and destitute alive enough to want to kill themselves. All that time spent cooking mac and cheese en masse and putting little packets of powdered milk next to little cartons of the liquid, like they get at schools and prisons, packets that can only be opened by the nimble fingers of caring relatives these elderly recipients do not have.

Sure.

Tyler told me I need to be eating at least two meals a day, or she'd steal a blender and make me drink raw chicken. So I eat the Meals on Wheels box. Sorry Agatha. I rip open the powdered milk packet, dump it into the carton, hold it closed, and shake it. Twice the calories. A recipe for palliative care.

Marlon's sitting there, quiet, eating Dianne's latest last meal. All the urgency is gone. Sucked dry. He's got pallor like a hospice heart failure. When dogs get treated for heartworms, the worms die, and sometimes, not all of them break apart. Sometimes, there will be thin, dead cords of necrotized nematode strung through their heart waiting for the right beat to fall apart and clot a vital artery. This can take years to happen. Your pet recovers perfectly from treatment until seven years down the line, you give it a doggy cupcake and a pulmonary embolism for its tenth birthday.

Marlon looks like he's had his first melarsomine injection and his owner is thinking about taking him to a dog park instead of bothering with the second. If you let a dog get its heart rate up too high when getting treated for all the parasites you let grow in it, its heart will explode. Or all the worms will clog its lungs. Whichever one it is, it's happening to Marlon here in this room. On this bed.

He says he'd found a bruise, a while back. A nasty little thing, like the crush of a plum under your thumb. Near one of his ankles. And Marlon Singer knew he couldn't afford any novel treatments, and he'd seen too many people rot from the inside out from them already. He did not go to the clinic down the street that gets its windows broken in often enough that there's just big black billowing sails of trashbags over their storefront more often than not. Marlon says he once saw a rat nailed to the door, which is something you'd think would be too neat and poetic for real life. He didn't go to the clinic because he didn't have to. And maybe if he was fucking guys he wanted to he would be a bit more cautious, but the men Marlon Singer gets to fuck are the type to have given him those bruises in the first place. They're the reason there's single mothers visiting that clinic, like half melted wax getting scraped out of the picture. He says he shouldn't feel guilty.

I tell Marlon about where I got the idea for poisoning all the food at the Pressman hotel.

He asks me what I mean by that, and I tell him about my first boss at the company I work for now.

When I first started there, I was selling our cars to companies. Bulk orders for work vehicles. My job was to not fuck up any contracts we already had. Marlon is probably aware, but the type of man involved in that sort of thing, he knows he's got you on a collar and chain. You and him both know he'll be renewing the contract, but you have to do the song and dance for him. Pretend you like how close he gets to you. Pretend you don't want to rip his testicles from his ballsack when he leans in sweaty and tells you how he likes your hair, did you go and do all that just for me?

Because he knows. And you know. But enduring this is what you were hired to do. If you were a man, you would've been hired to create a sense of the old boys club with this guy. But you're not.

There is so much pretense in the world.

Anyway, my first boss, call him Joe — whenever I'd return from those trips and dinners, Joe wouldn't pretend that it wasn't a shit job. He'd commiserate and wish me luck with the next one. He didn't overstep, he wasn't creepy, he kept his distance. The best you could hope for. Thirty days on the job, they asked me how I was doing, and I told them I was doing great. The job was amazing, I felt embraced by the company, my boss was great. One of those things was true to me.

And when Joe got his promotion, for being such a great regional manager, he cornered me in my cubicle and informed me he'd been jerking off into my nicely labeled thin salad lunches each time they showed up in the office fridge. He told me this with the same smile he'd always worn.

Marlon, he's next to me, and he leans closer like we're having a nice little confession. My skin itches.

It was before the 90 day clause kicked in my health coverage, so I had to wait at one of those free clinics like Marlon's, and I was surrounded by a lot of young men, wispy mangled pears. What little flesh was left was soft. When I told the nurse what happened, I watched myself die in her eyes. Dappling up with rashes and bruises until I was all painted and sunken like a bog body.

For the longest time, I wondered if I'd become the oral Mary. How many times I vomited in that office toilet, I don't know. I stopped bringing lunch.

The thing is, I couldn't see it in his face. Joe's, I mean. Not even when he told me. I couldn't see it in anyone. So I stopped eating out. Stopped eating altogether, really.

Marlon, his response was to go to the support groups. His tragedy was that it was a slow death, coming for him. Best to wriggle into the pile of dying bodies, see what it's like. Maybe that could muster enough suicidal impulse.

I tell Marlon, of course, I couldn't go to HR. I was a new hire with no evidence and previous record of liking my boss. I didn't want to tell my mom. I didn't want her to know. Those uncomfortable dinners became absolutely, wretchedly unbearable as I thought about the food I was being forced to share.

When the option came up for a dead end job in the least loved department in the building, I put on the best performance of my life to get the part. Best aspiring Compliance and Liability head and sole department employee, that's me. My new job was to keep secrets. It was, already, old hat.

For months I thought about waking up from a narcoleptic fit at my desk, with Joe leaning over the cubicle wall and asking if I was alright. I watched my stomach like it was nuclear. Every extra second it took until I bled like usual slid me closer to buying myself a shotgun and pumping a slug or two into my brain.

It's an unavoidable fear, I tell Marlon. You can't do anything about it. Once you know, you know. At some point, you have to find the peace in it. Imagine yourself, a balloon popping with meaty chunks flying apart, splattering onlookers and raining viscera.

For a month, six months, I had cancer. Worse than cancer. Every time I eat out, I get it again.

Marlon is looking at me, melting stained glass, drowning in that sort of shared pity you build together with someone who's dying.

I don't want Marlon to feel guilty.

I tell Marlon, that's why I poison the food at the Pressman hotel. Someone's got to do it. Blood in the tomato sauce, spit on the steak. Imagine what you could do to a soup. The men who go to the Pressman hotel, they're the kind that leave Marlon bloody and walking around Paper Street calling for Tyler to come out and burn more holes into him. They're the kind that get promoted from regional manager. They're the kind that lean in close, pull your wrist towards them, and say there's one way they know you could secure the contract renewal. The kind that almost ruin it in a temper tantrum when you don't, resulting in an upper management intervention on the 24th day of your new job. They're the kind that hear that shit and say you should've been more appeasing. More polite.

Don't feel guilty, Marlon.

I hope all of them rot so everyone can see the maggots eating their insides.

Marlon isn't smiling. I am unavoidably bad at distracting him. There's something final in it, when he sighs, and takes off his tank top. He says it's on his back, and I should just tell him.

I look. I see it. Black hole, botfly, necrosis. There's so many things these broken blood vessels could be. Withering, snapping apart like mummified heartworms. I imagine driving the two inch melarsomine needle deep into the muscles bunched upon his spine.

I look.

I press my hands into him, and I grip like I'm trying to rend my fingers through his skin, deep into his body cavity to rip out his guts. Like I'm trying to grab the rope of his small intestine and strangle him with it. Marlon's yelling at me and trying to hit me, arms flapping like a chicken, and I am bruising ten deep circles into the soft pearskin of his abdomen. It's the only place left on him that's mealy, that isn't frayed rope under worn out leather.

I tell him, you've got bruises. They look mostly normal, to me.

Don't worry too much about it.

And Marlon, he leans into me, and I let him.

#asks #fight club #female fight club au #my writing #obv directly in parallel to the book chapter #this has been sort of floating in my head #in the book its probably the most caring moment the narrator has for marla #and i think that is the same here actually #its just female narrator off the charts detestes marlon more in the first place. puts all her sense of sympathy and shared solidarity into #Tyler. but. yeah #anyway made marlon's life absolutely miserable #and the narrators #i actually went back and forth on that #i dont want to... necessarily... give her Solid Reasons in a way male narrator doesnt have #but its sort of inescapable that fucked up misogynistic shit would happen #and i was thinking how to resolves the food contamination question in my head #hard to explain #inherently more horrible shit will happen to her than male narrator #but not excessively and i want it to feed into the same issues. in this case her complete subjugation in the office and inability to freely #reject the horrific shit shes forced to play along with #resulting in her doing the same to the fat cats rolling by #anyway #she does care about marlon #its complicated

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666writingcafe · 6 months

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Satan's Object

The House of Lamentation (8)

MC: I am going to have to return to the human world soon, but before I go, I would like an object from each of you that I can take with me and use to summon you.

Content Warning: implied nsfw in the last paragraph

Solomon must have told them about the ritual. It makes sense, actually; none of the pacts were made traditionally, not even mine. Still, I am honored that MC asked, because it means that they value the relationship they have with each of us.

Thankfully--and surprisingly, given how messy my room is--I find the perfect gift for MC in fairly short order. Now, I am waiting for them to arrive to accept it.

A knock at the door interrupts me from my thoughts.

"Hey," MC greets as they enter my room and plop down on my bed. "How are things?"

Better now you're here.

"They've been okay," I reply. "Nothing out of the ordinary, really. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Me too. I'm still trying to get used to this thing, though." MC glances down at their hands, forcing me to notice the black metal ring on their finger. "I wasn't one to wear a whole lot of jewelry in the human world, and even when I did, I was able to take it off at the end of the day. This, however, has literally attached itself to my finger."

"Magical objects can do that sometimes." I sit down next to MC, gently grasp their hand, and bring it closer to me in order to get a better look at the ring. "I've always pictured the Ring of Light to be gold. I wonder why it's black."

"I haven't gotten a clear answer on that yet." MC gazes at me, and I momentarily lose my train of thought. Their eyes always have a tendency to put me in a daze.

"So, you mentioned that you found something I could take with me?" MC asks. I clear my throat as I remember why they're in my room in the first place.

"Right, yeah." Standing up, I walk over to a nearby shelf and pull down a simple-looking book with a worn cover.

"Do you recognize this?" I ask, turning the cover towards MC.

"Isn't that the book that caused you and Lucifer to switch bodies?" I nod my head, causing MC to develop a worried look on their face.

"Don't worry: the magic's faded now. Some might say it's worthless now that it doesn't work as originally intended, but for me, this represents something greater than that."

"Oh?"

"It made me realize that I am more than just a fragment of Lucifer's emotions, that I am in fact my own individual. I used to be so angry at him because I felt so inferior to him. No matter how hard I tried, I could never compare to him." I pause. "Those series of events also mark the time when I really started developing feelings for you." Silence. MC seems shocked. I take the opportunity to set the book down on their lap.

"I wish you didn't have to leave," I continue, sitting back down. "I know that you have your own life up in the human world with responsibilities to tend to, but..."

Why do I suddenly feel the need to cry?

"Satan." When did MC scoot this close to me? "I won't forget you. Just say the word, and I will summon you to me. I promise." They lean in and kiss me softly.

"You are quite the sadist, MC."

"How so?"

"You know it's going to be even harder for me to say goodbye to you now." This causes MC to smirk.

"Well then, I suppose we'll just have to keep kissing then." What? "It's going to take me a bit to learn summoning magic, and I can't risk you forgetting about me."

Fair point. Time does move rather quickly in the Devildom, especially compared to the human world. Plus, I'd be an idiot to deny MC's request.

Of course, we'll probably end up doing more than just kiss. After all, I've not been able to properly thank MC for helping me when I was under the influence of the syrup. I need to reciprocate at the very least.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me satan #i thought about adding actual smut to this but couldn't come up with anything solid in my head #and i didn't want to push something that didn't want to come out #so you are free to imagine the specifics of what happens

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