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permanentswaps · 2 days

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Grindr Swap With A Twink

Read Part 1 from @ghostinthedude here.

Lets just say that college was a LOT of fun. Sure, on the outside I looked like an immature pretty boy with nothing going through his head. But on the inside, I was a self-possessed adult, who knew exactly what he wanted.

From them moment I set foot on campus, I was inundated with attention from upperclassmen guys – and even some of the younger professors – who were eager to get to get me into their beds. I won’t go too much into the details, but I definitely got around that year.

Eventually, I hit my growth spurt. Better late than never I guess. And over the course of sophomore year I had packed on about 20 lbs of muscle, grew a solid 6 inches, and got a haircut. By junior year, I was no longer a slutty bottom twink being plowed by every closeted senior on the football team, I was a sexy vers twunk making my way through the swim roster.

All the while, I was acing all my classes, leading me to graduate Summa Cum Laude and get a job in investment banking for next year. I knew its going to be a hard path, but it made my parents so proud and it will set me up financially for the rest of my career. This week, I just moved into a brand new apartment by myself in Boston’s Back Bay. I’m due to start work in a few weeks, but I wanted to get settled in, explore the city, make some friends, and maybe even build up a roster (I’m not gonna have a ton of time to meet guys once work starts up).

---

That’s why tonight, I found myself scrolling through Grindr. Here's my profile pics btw:

There’s quite a selection to choose from. Hmmm, the international guys from Harvard seem kinda hot, but I bet they’re super full of themselves. What about a true Boston native, there’s something weirdly sexy about their accents.

I kept scrolling until one guy caught my eye, making my stomach flip. It was my old body, he had tapped my profile. That's weird, I thought he would still be in Cincinnati. But anyway, his profile is kinda super hot:

"Hey, what's up," I messaged.

"Hey cutie, how's it going?" he replied.

"Alright alright, just moved to town, looking for some fun," I joked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Hahaha, I love some fun," he replied, his enthusiasm evident even through text. "Top or bttm?"

"Vers ;)" I replied.

"I can work with that," he replied eagerly. "So, what's your name?"

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. "You really don't know?"

"No, why would I, cutie?" he responded.

"I just figured you'd remember your own face after all these years," I teased, adding, "Although I guess it's not your face anymore."

"OMG.”

I quickly sent him my location, to which he responded almost immediately, “Be there in 20.”

---

"Shit," he said as he walked through the door, looking around wide eyed. "This place is super nice."

"Yeah, I mean, it's not totally furnished yet, but it's pretty nice," I replied, trying to downplay it a bit.

"How did you afford it? I know my parents don’t exactly have deep pockets," he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Yeah, actually," I began, feeling a pang of sympathy for my former self, "I got such good grades freshman year that I actually got a scholarship for the rest of college. And now..."

My old body's expression shifted, a hint of sadness creeping in.

“And now, I’ll be making 110k starting with no loans. So yeah mom and dad didn’t really need to give me anything.” I said, feeling a bit odd that he still referred to them as his parents. “And how about you," I asked, trying to keep the conversation going. "Where are you living these days?"

"Oh, I have a shared flat in Dorchester," he replied. "It's nothing special, but it's all I can afford on a bartender's salary."

"You moved all the way out here for a bartending gig?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "I didn't really have a choice. I got fired from my last job for showing up late too many times and kinda got blacklisted from all the good bars in Cincinnati. But a buddy who had moved out here set me up with a new gig. It's okay, I guess."

"But anyway," he said, changing the subject, "look at you, you've done really well for yourself."

I couldn't help but smirk as I ran my hand down my toned abs. He wasn't wrong.

"And you," I said, diverting the attention away from myself, "you must still be pulling in all the hot twinks with that bod."

"Hahaha, yeah," he replied, his confidence shining through. "Although none of them are as sexy as you are."

His compliment caught me off guard, but I couldn't help but be drawn in as he pulled me in for a kiss. The chemistry between us was undeniable as we quickly made our way to the bedroom, shedding our clothes with eager anticipation.

He climbed on top of me, his lips finding their way to my eager member. I couldn't help but marvel at how he still remembered all the right moves. Within minutes, he had me on the edge, his skilled hands finding their way to my sensitive nipples, pushing me to climax.

With a satisfied grin, he eagerly swallowed every last drop of my load. Luckily for him, I had a rapid recharge time, and I was ready to go for round two within minutes.

As he whipped out his beer can thick cock, memories flooded back. I remembered that thing—it was definitely fun to top twinks, or twunks like myself, back in the day.

In doggy, he hugged my body tightly, in a way that felt almost nostalgic. It was almost like he was reminiscing about living in this body, even though it didn’t look anything like this when he last had it.

Then, with surprising finesse, he flipped me over into missionary, his eyes locking with mine as our bodies moved in sync.

In a half-whisper, he asked me a question that caught me off guard: "Can we swap back?"

Just then, it dawned on me. To swap back, we both needed to swallow each other’s cum. Panic surged through me. He had already swallowed mine. Shit.

Still thrusting into me, he paused, his eyes searching mine with a mix of desperation and longing. "No, you don’t understand," he pleaded. "This could’ve been my life."

Struggling to fight him through the ecstasy I was feeling from his cock plunging into me, I shook my head. "No, it wouldn’t be," I gasped out between breaths. "You'd never work hard enough for this."

I looked up and saw a look come across his face that I’d know anywhere. He was about to cum. I couldn't let him pull out and risk the chance of him trying to shoot his load all over my face.

Quickly, I pushed him backwards and positioned myself on top of him, impaling myself on his throbbing cock in cowboy. He looked up at me, a mixture of bliss and regret evident in his expression as his load erupted.

Relieved but seething with anger, I stepped off the bed and quickly grabbed his pants, tossing them at him with a firm command. "Get out," I said, my voice carrying an edge of finality. "And don't contact me again."

He silently complied, skulking towards the door where he saw himself out. Locking it behind him, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Returning to the bedroom mirror, I faced my reflection with a newfound clarity. Taking a good, hard look at myself, I uttered the words that had been swirling in my mind.

"I am Devin Connors," I declared, the weight of the statement settling over me. "And I deserve everything that I’ve worked for."

Really happy with how this one turned out. Let me know if you have any suggestions for which story I should finish next.

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borathae · 19 hours

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Close Shave | Jungkook x f.Reader

↳ Full Art

"You walk in on Jungkook using your razor to shave his balls and the bratty question for help on his lips. It's only fitting to help him, if only so you can give him a sexy little punishment for touching your things."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life Smut

Warnings: sub!Jungkook who is the cutest pookie, mean Dom!Reader, he tries to make her laugh, until she accidentally gets him horny, then he tries so hard not to make her notice his boner, spoiler alert: it was her plan to make him hard, she shaves his dick and balls, handjob, edging, multiple orgasms (m. receiving), whiney!Koo, some dirty talk, overstimulation, ruined orgasms & post-orgasm torture, begging & subby boy tears, male squirting :'), soft & cuddly aftercare, he is so cozy in subspace hehe <3, they're in love <3

Wordcount: 4.5k

a/n: sometimes i give myself new kinks and i think that's beautiful :') have fun besties, i missed writing this kind of Koo 🤍

You knock on the downstairs bathroom door.

“Sweetie, are you okay in there?”

Jungkook has music playing, but is worryingly quiet. Normally when he listens to music in the bathroom, you can always hear him singing to it. He did so at first, but became worryingly quiet all of a sudden.

“You didn’t slip and fall in there, did you?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer you. Your worry grows. He’s got Chase Atlantic playing and he isn’t singing to them. He loves singing to Chase Atlantic. Something must have happened.

“I’m worried, I’m coming in. Last chance to stop me”, you tell him loudly and open the door.

Jungkook reveals himself to your eyes instantly. He is sitting on the floor with his back against the sink counter. He is in his white button up and slippers, but doesn’t wear any pants, sitting with his legs spread and his head right between them. A silver bowl filled with dirty water stands in front of him. Shaving cream and hair swims in it.

“Oh? Sorry”, you gasp.

Jungkook’s head shoots up, his big eyes look you up and down.

“Since when are you here?” he exclaims, “you scared me, wah, don’t do that. I have blades against my balls.”

“Sorry, oh god.” You laugh. “You were suddenly so quiet and I was worried that you slipped and hit your head. I didn’t know that you were shaving.”

“Yeah well, trying to. The razor sucks ass”, he says, waving the pink razor around.

“Is this my razor? And my shaving cream?!”

He pulls a sorry “I’m a little shit” face.

“No?”

“Jungkook, I shave my armpits with that. I don’t need your ball hair on it”, you whine.

“Hey, you’re acting as if you never had my balls in your face before.”

“It’s about the principles. You doofus, you’re gonna dull the blades.”

“No, I won’t. They’ve already been dull since the beginning”, he says and demonstrates their inability to shave on his crotch.

“You’re doing it wrong. No, what- Kook, you’re doing it wrong.”

“Urgh I knew it”, he groans and stands up. The view is a little funny. White dress shirt, black slippers and crotch messy in shaving cream. He presents the razor to you, “show me.”

“Sorry?”

“Show me. I promise I’ll be a good boy.”

“You saying it like that makes me think you’re not gonna be a good boy.”

He smirks playfully. You study it with a fluttering pulse. It could be fun. You could use it to give him a little punishment for taking your stuff.

“Fine”, you give in, “sit on the counter.”

“Okie dokie”, Jungkook says, jumping on the counter with a giggle, “look at us. Shaving my balls together.”

You roll your eyes, bending down to get the bowl. You put it on the counter next to him, cleaning the razor under running water. Once clean, you walk to him.

He opens his legs for you, making grabby hands at you. You meet his eyes. They’re sparkling boyishly.

“Don’t give me that face”, you say.

“I’m not even doing anything”, he defends himself, fluttering his lashes at you.

“Yeah sure.”

You step between his legs, chuckling when he instantly grabs you and kneads you.

“Doofus.”

“Heh, you’re pretty”, he says, earning himself another fond roll of your eyes.

“Scoot to the edge.”

He follows.

You bend down and place your hand on his balls to stretch the skin. The razor touches his skin.

“Careful. If you cut them off, you’re at a loss too.”

“I’m gonna be careful”, you say in a chuckle, dragging the razor through his bush. It picks up a good strip of it.

You straighten up and clean it in the bowl.

“Woah, how did you manage to get so much?” Jungkook gasps.

“Practice. You had the angle all wrong”, you say, bending down again.

“I knew that it was user error.”

“No, you didn’t. You said the blades were dull.”

“No, I didn’t”, he says, clearly being playful.

“Mhm sure”, you mumble, feeling oh so very fond of him.

You and he share silence, which the music fills. You can listen to Jungkook singing softly and every time you straighten up to clean the razor, he gives you a little grin. One you never retort because you kind of enjoy acting a little annoyed. He knows that it’s pretend and therefore tries to make you laugh and he’s cute when he does. One time he tapped your head to the beat of the song, another he rubbed your neck to the melody as he sang the lyrics with all his heart. Another time he called you pretty, while yet another time he tried it with a silly joke about pubes. His attempts were very good and whenever you had your face between his legs and he couldn’t see it, you let a fond smile wash over it.

You are straightened up again, cleaning the razor in the bowl. Jungkook watches you, gazing at your face more than anywhere else.

You bend down again, shoving his balls to the other side.

“Oh? Careful”, he chuckles, “that was quite the shove.”

“Sorry, I gotta do the other side now”, you tell him, furrowing your brows as you guide the razor through the first patch.

Jungkook stays still, but puts his fingers on your head.

“How many fingers?” he asks.

“I’m tryna concentrate”, you tell him with concentrated brows.

“Try. I’m making it easy”, he says, wiggling his fingers.

“Three.”

“Correct. See? I knew you could do it.”

You scoff, “doofus.”

You clean out the razor then go straight back to shaving him. Jungkook watches you.

“It’s kinda funny to see you between my legs like that and only have you shave me. Normally you’re doing something very different when you’re like this.”

You stop mid-shave, keeping the blade on his skin as you lift your eyes.

“You lift your eyes like that too when you do.”

“You’re so annoying”, you mumble and look back at his balls to finish the shave. You smile.

“I saw that.”

“You saw nothing.”

“I’m pretty sure I did. You smiled.”

“I was gritting my teeth in concentration. Like this.” You straighten up and show it to him. “See?”

Jungkook laughs, scrunching his face for it.

“No, you weren’t. I saw you smile.”

“Whatever you saw, it didn’t happen”, you say and bend down again. But before you can, Jungkook stops you with a finger under your chin.

“Mhm?”

He leans in, stealing a kiss. You grab his thighs instantly, kissing him back with a fluctuating pulse.

The kiss breaks with a bite to your lower lip and his lips curling into a smile.

“I love your smile”, he whispers, following it up with a giggle and peck attack to your lips.

You huff out air to cover up your chuckle, nudging his chest, “doofus.”

You bend down, unable to hide your smile. Jungkook soaks up the view with a fluttering heart. He is having so much fun right now. Spending time with you like this is new and exciting. He also likes the little game you make him play. You are so obvious when you only pretend to be annoyed and he gets so nicely competitive to make you break that he could squeal now that he finally sees your smile.

Your smile soon drops however. A look of concentration replaces it as you guide the razor over his skin smoothly. You clean it and go straight back in, putting your fingers on his dick to move it aside.

“I think JK Junior has a preference to fall left.”

“Yeah, definitely...JK Junior? Really?”

“Yeah.”

You chuckle, “you’re annoying.”

Jungkook bites down his squeals, having a hard time with it. He loves making you laugh!

“Should I hold him?” he offers.

“No, keep your hands to yourself.”

“Okay”, Jungkook says and runs his fingers over the nape of your neck.

“I didn’t know my neck was yourself.”

“I’m not touching JK Junior, am I?”

You scoff, following it up with a little chuckle.

“You’re annoying.”

Jungkook snickers, kicking his feet.

“Hey!”

“Oop!”

He tenses up, gawking at you with big eyes.

“No kicking. I’ll cut you on accident.”

“Sorry.”

You clean the razor, “I’m almost done, don’t worry.”

“Already?”

You glance at him. He is pouting.

“Are you sad about that?”

“Yeah.” He pouts harder. “This is so much fun.”

You hide the victorious smile. It’s all going according to plan. You knew that he wouldn’t be happy with just his balls. Now the real fun is going to begin. All of this was just a warm up, the perfect way to get Jungkook into a giddy kind of mood. And when he is in this kind of mood, it is terribly easy to turn him on. Oh, you are going to have so much fun with him.

“Fine, I’ll do JK Junior too”, you fake your annoyance, “good god, I knew you would do that”, you add, bending down to do the last part of his balls.

“Yay thankies. I swear it’s just because you’re so much better at it than me.”

You feel ecstatic. Look at him still thinking that he is in control when you are playing him like a fucking game.

“Yeah sure”, you say and finish the shave. You straighten up, clean the razor, then leave to get the shaving cream.

“The cream is really good. It smells so nice”, Jungkook says, “flowery and sweet. I like it.”

“Yeah and it’s only fourty bucks”, you say sarcastically.

“What?” He widens his eyes. “Fourty bucks?!”

“Yeah and you used way too much.”

“Fuck, sorry. I thought it’s like four bucks. Mine’s like three sixty.”

“No, I always get the expensive one.”

“Why? Cream is cream. Wouldn’t a normal one do the trick too?”

“Sure, but this one lasts me more than a year ‘cause I only have to use a little.”

“Sorry, I’ll get you the next one.”

“Mhm, okay”, you say and begins spreading some on his crotch area.

“Okay, I definitely used too much. Look at how well it foams up.”

“Right? It’s really good”, you say and wipe some on his nose.

“Hey”, he gasps and laughs, wiping the foam away, “not cool.”

You give him a grin and pick up the razor. You have a plan. You will do the first few shaves normally and then go in with the attack. Jungkook doesn’t suspect a thing. He is still singing and making jokes with no idea of what will happen soon. Oh, you are going to ruin him.

You finish three small patches. It is finally time. Your heart is racing as you go in. You pick up his cock, holding it in your hand. Act innocent at first. Make him believe you are only making it easier for you, only to drive him desperate with your warm hand little by fucking little.

Jungkook stops singing for just a second, but then continues. He feels it, but doesn’t want to pull attention to it. Oh, you could squeal.

You clean the razor, releasing his dick. For now. You will do two more like this and then you won’t pull your hand away when you clean.

It goes well and then the fourth patch comes. You don’t pull your hand away, keeping it around his cock with just enough pressure that he feels it.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle. You look at him with faux confusion in your eyes.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing, uhm, you’re pretty.”

“Doofus”, you say, smiling internally. Of course he’ll act innocent. He is still in the belief that this is innocent, that you are just shaving his dick. He won’t tell you that the warm pressure around his cock is starting to affect him.

But you know him better. You know that his brain is currently trying to zone in on nothing but your touch, while he is actively trying not to make it do that. He doesn’t sing as much anymore because he needs to concentrate. He is so adorable.

You won’t have to do this for long anymore and then you can move to the next step. Oh, he is going to have a very hard time with that. You have the perfect plan.

You increase the pressure whenever you clean the razor, doing the smallest pulsing motions with your fingers. You make sure to keep them small enough that they aren’t noticeable, but that he will ask himself why it suddenly feels so much better. By the third time, you hear him exhale shakily. He hasn’t sung to the entire song by now.

You look up, watching as Jungkook tries to make a normal expression. He had his jaw tightened and brows furrowed before that as he secretly tries to keep the blood from shooting to his cock.

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah. Yeah totally”, he says, nodding his head vigorously, “you uhm…do you have to do a lot more?”

“Mhm?” you look at his crotch and act as if you needed to inspect him, moving his cock from side to side with your hand moving around his tip.

Jungkook sucks in air, tensing his thighs. His cock hardens a little in your hand. Not enough to be visibly noticeable, but you can feel it.

“Mhm, I would say that we still have some way to go. Why? Did your butt fall asleep on the counter?”

“No”, he laughs breathily, “no, not at all.”

“Okay, just say if it does”, you say and bend down to drag the razor over his skin. You pretend to struggle with the position and to fix it by moving his cock to the side with a pulse around his tip.

Jungkook doesn’t sing at all anymore. He is actually very quiet and you know that it’s because he is trying so hard to keep his breathing silent as to not make it obvious that he needs to breathe to regulate himself. But of course you notice because he is not slick with it. Unlike his cock, which is beginning to be slick between your fingers.

You straighten up to clean the razor, pulling your hand from his cock. Jungkook’s hips chase you, but he tense up when you look at him again. He is giving you such intense eye contact that you know for a fact that he is trying to distract you. Oh, he definitely noticed how hard his cock is.

He can’t even think of a joke right now, simply staring at you with a nervous smile on his lips.

You don’t retort it for show, looking at his cock again.

“Mhm”, you let out loudly, furrowing your brows. You want him thinking that you noticed his semi.

Jungkook tenses up in panic.

“It’s not-”

“I don’t know how to get that part, mhm”, you interrupt him, “oh? Sorry, did you wanna say something?”

“Huh? No, not at all”, he says and laughs nervously.

“You’re so weird sometimes”, you mumble and pick up his cock to move it to the side. Unlike before, you don’t use your entire hand for it, instead you keep three fingers on nothing but his tip, moving them up and down as little as possible. Again, it shouldn’t be obvious, but he should suddenly ask himself why it feels so good.

And he does. He is trying not to show it, but he must currently scream in his head. His thighs keep tensing and he is doing a worse job at masking his heavy breathing.

You clean the razor, retreating your touch.

“I think this part is easier to shave. You got more room”, you tell him calmly.

“Yeah, totally. I totally agree with you. Totally.”

“Are you okay? You’re talking weird”, you say and gasp, “oh god, did I cut you somewhere?” you exclaim and pick up his cock to move from it side to side with your hand pulsing around his tip, “you should have told me. Gosh baby, where is it? I can’t see anything.”

“No, it’s”, he is squeaking, arching his back and grasping your wrist to stop you, “you didn’t cut me. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you look up at him.

He nods his head vigorously, “I’m coolio.”

“Okay, if you say so”, you say and change grip to three fingers on his tip. His cock is so hard by now that you know that this round will be enough to make him fully erect. The fact that he still hasn’t acknowledged it, acting as if he isn’t completely out of breath, is giving you the biggest butterflies ever. He is so bad at pretending and it’s so exciting to you. You won’t say anything either, you will continue to act oblivious while you drive him insane with just three fingers.

You work meticulously to shave him while your fingers move up and down his tip secretly. Jungkook grips the edge of the counter again, tensing his stomach to prevent his back from arching.

You clean the razor, dropping his cock again. You make sure to look at the water, but in reality you watch him from the corners of your eyes. His cock twitches and leaks. Jungkook gasps and goes to wipe it away quickly, hitting it in an attempt to make it go down, which results in a more aggressive throb because he likes it.

“Mmh.”

You look at him. Jungkook scrambles into a relaxed position quickly, fumbling for words but he can't think of anything.

“Everything alright?”

“Mh-hm”, he gets out, nodding his head vigorously.

You move back to shaving him, picking up his cock between your fingers. You want to stay longer this time around, do the strokes in three tries while your fingers massage his tip secretly. You keep pressure on the spots, using the shaving cream as slip. Jungkook’s thighs are flexed, his abs engaged. You glance at his hands. His knuckles are white because he is using so much strength to grip the counter, resulting in his veins to bulge all the way from his hands to his elbows. He is so sexy.

You make sure to slow down more, to really drag it out. He should be desperate once you’re done, he should crave your touch again and ask himself why on fucking earth he is such a needy fucking man. And oh how you drag it out, how good you time it. You pull back at the perfect time which results in Jungkook to arch his back and whisper a curse.

You glance at his face. He is scrunching it, gritting his teeth as well. You edged him. And he isn’t even aware that you can see his agonised face because he is too busy trying to suffer in secret. Fuck, you want him like crazy.

But you stay quiet. You look away before he opens his eyes and clean the razor with an innocent expression. You can feel his eyes on you. They are begging you as much as they are trying to figure out if you were actually that blind to his problem. You don’t grand him eye contact, moving in instantly.

Jungkook sucks in air, tensing up again. You dare to glance up at him. As you had figured, his eyes are closed. He is biting down on his lower lip, flaring his nostrils as his nose tries to keep up with all the wheezing he is hiding from you. His eyes are closed. You can dare to increase your touches. He is too preoccupied with suffering quietly to watch them become obvious. You allow yourself his initial reaction to the increasing pleasure. He opens his mouth to moan only to remember in the last moment that he needs to be quiet and he bites down on his lip again, tilting his head back just enough to reveal his throat. He is so sexy, holy fuck.

You look back at his crotch, concentrating on gliding the razor over his skin safely. It might not be obvious yet, but you actually want to do a good job in shaving him. He’ll come out of this experience smooth and with a scrambled brain. You are making sure of it. You finish the round the moment Jungkook’s hips dared to chase you.

The latter lets out a small whimper, squirming on the counter because you had him so close.

“I like this razor. I don’t know how you used it, but it’s not dull at all”, you speak calmly.

“Yeah uh, yeah I don’t know.”

“It’s probably because you used too much cream”, you say and pick up his cock, keeping the movements minimal again because his eyes are on you. You put the razor to his skin and drag it up his skin. Your fingers massage his tip, Jungkook tenses up more. More. More.

“Oh god”, he squeaks and begins twitching as the pleasure finally gets too much. You move the razor away for safety reasons, gawking at his flushed cock shoot all over his tummy and your hand. He is writhing, thrusting his hips into your touch as he cums with his panicked eyes first looking at his cock, before meeting your darkened gaze.

“Seriously?” you ask him, cocking your brow up.

“Sorry”, he whimpers, reaching for you with the goal of kissing you. It feels so good that the shame is minimal to him right now.

But you aren’t happy. You need him to suffer a little more, you need him confessing how bad he needs your touch. You pull back in the best moment, ruining his high which results in Jungkook to sob in agony with his hips fucking the air.

“Please, please it hurts please. Touch me please.”

“Well, that didn’t take long”, you say, placing the razor aside, “it only took you twenty minutes to finally admit it. A new record”, you say sarcastically.

“You knew?” he gasps out, writhing.

“Duh. You think it felt that good accidentally? I was touching you from the beginning”, you say and pick up his cock to jerk it off quickly, finally using your dominant hand for it.

Jungkook drops his head against the mirror, finally arching his back and moaning the way he had wanted to do for ages.

“You’re so cruel.”

“It’s what you get for using my stuff”, you throw back, twisting your hand around his tortured tip.

“Sensitive please”, he begs, kicking his feet desperately.

“You begged for it. So take it”, you order with no ounce of pity in your voice.

“Oh god”, he presses out, arching his back repeatedly while his shaky hands grip the marble.

His cum already became a deep white from the fast friction, sticking all over your hand and his cock. Residues of the shaving cream add even more slip to the punishing handjob. You know that he won’t hold out for long with the rhythm you have going on and that it’s gonna be the kind of orgasm which makes him cry just a little.

And how right you were. Jungkook can only take five more pumps and then the overstimulation gets too much, forcing him to orgasm with such intensity that he shoots all over his own face and mirror. The sudden hot mess on his face startles him, making him cry because it was all too much. It still is. You don’t slow down even now that he is cumming. It burns and aches so much and Jungkook has no control over his body anymore. All he can do is sob and shake uncontrollably while you force his poor cock to soothe the burn by squirting all over himself.

There is so much of it that it runs down on each side of him, spilling all over the counter and washing away the remnants of shaving cream. He sobs and he moans, he whines and he keens while you match his noises with evil laughter and mocking coos.

Jungkook cries so much harder. You are so mean to him and he didn’t even do anything. You are so, so mean.

His orgasm dies down as aggressively as it began. His once pleasured writhing becomes agonised, he tries to tug your hand away, sobbing begs to warm your heart.

“Please, I’m sorry. I won’t take your stuff again. I’m sorry, please!”

“Promise me?”

“Promise! Please I’m sorry, I promise!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Promise!” Jungkook screams so loudly his voice bounces off the walls, “holy fuck, I’m sorry!”

“That sounded better”, you say, finally releasing his ruined cock. You tortured him so good that you made him go soft as a defence mechanism. He is so fucking lovely to play with.

Jungkook drops against the mirror instantly, wheezing for air and spilling tears as he scrunches his face.

You rub his trembling thighs, guiding your touches up his torso slowly until you can pull him into a hug. Jungkook hides away in the crook of your neck, holding you with his arms both weak yet terribly strong as they try to clutch you for soothing. You rub his back and scratch his scalp.

“You did so well, sweetie”, you praise him, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Hmmh”, he lets out, nuzzling his face into your shoulder from left to right.

“You were also not slick with pretending everything was okay.”

He laughs, but it soon turns into little sobs. He lifts his head, looking at you with teary eyes.

“You ruined me, oh god look at me”, he says, laughing even if tears run down his face.

“Gosh baby, I’m here now”, you say, cradling his face.

“It was so nice”, he presses out, sniffling aggressively in order not to cry again. He ends up pouting with sparkly and happy eyes.

“It really was” you say, brushing his tears away, “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too. It, it was so nice. I felt so happy to be with you and, and making you smile and then you made me so horny. Oh god”, he falls around your neck, “I feel like a giddy boy, you have no idea.”

You giggle with him, ruffling his hair.

“I think I’m getting an idea.”

He giggles and squeezes you, following it up with a deep sigh.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Kookie.” You kiss his neck. “Do you want me to do the last stripe too?”

“Huh?”

“Your dick. You lost it like one more razor stripe before the end. I’d hate to leave you unfinished.”

“Oh god.” He giggles, kicking his feet and nodding his head vigorously. “Yeah, you can finish it.”

“Nice. I promise I won’t rile you up again”, you joke, making him laugh to the point where he has to cough because he laughed way too hard. The joke definitely wasn’t that funny, but he is giddy, in love and totally mushy in his afterglow. You could breathe and he would think that it is the funniest thing you have ever said.

You like when he is like this and after you finished the shave and you cleaned him (and the mirror), you take him to the couch for cuddles and kisses. He is just too adorable not to.

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beskarandblasters · 18 hours

Note

Anything sub!Cooper Howard please 🙏🙏 I need that man begging

Sugar, Honey, Sweet

Sub!Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist

Author’s note: Requests are open 🤍

Summary: The Ghoul comes knocking at your door late at night, begging for a taste.

Word count: 650

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established casual relationship, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, pet names (sweetheart), no use of y/n

A swift knock on your door rips you from your dead sleep. You know exactly who it is. There’s only one person who’s groveling for you at this hour. You sigh and pull yourself out of bed, walking to your door and opening it with a sigh.

“I was asleep, you know.”

“I know it’s late,” he says, stepping inside. “But I got here as soon as I could.”

“Not soon enough,” you sigh, closing the door and brushing past him. You walk back to your room and sit on the edge of the bed. He follows you and falls to his knees, grabbing your hands.

“Sweetheart, please. You know what I’m here for.”

“Say it.”

“Let me have a taste.”

“Hmm,” you smirk, cocking your head to the side and looking down at him. “I don’t think you’ve been a good boy.”

“But… I came all this way just to taste you,” he pleads.

That you can’t deny. He came to you in Filly in the dead of night, all the way to a place where his kind is not welcome. And even though it’s fun to tease him, he looks so cute on his knees pleading with you.

“Yeah?” you ask playfully, leaning forward so your face is only inches from his.

“Please, sweetheart. I’m beggin’ you.”

“Okay,” you sigh with faux annoyance, lying down on the bed.

He wastes no time reaching for the waistband of your pants, pulling them off along with your underwear. He spreads your thighs apart, marveling at your pretty pussy and how wet it is already.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this all day,” he says.

“Oh yeah? Show me how bad you want it,” you tease.

He dives face-first into your cunt, licking one long, slow stripe up your entrance. He moans into you, already drunk off your taste and scent. He moves to your clit, tongue swirling in circles around it. Your back arches off the bed, thighs convulsing around his head as he makes a meal out of you.

He pulls away for a second to softly mutter, “So, sweet,” before flicking his tongue around your clit again.

His tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge, sending your entire body into a state of pure bliss. The tension finally snaps and your first orgasm of the night rips through you. He hums into you as you soak his face. Your moans fill your bedroom followed by labored breaths as your orgasm subsides.

The Ghoul pulls his face away from you for a split second, only to bring two fingers to his mouth. He gets them nice and slick for you before plunging them inside you. He returns his mouth to your clit, sucking it while his fingers make a come here motion. You prop yourself up on your elbows and look down at your good boy, working hard to make you cum over and over again.

He locks eyes with you, moaning into you and so desperately seeking your approval.

“Good boy,” you breathe, just as he brings you over the edge again. His moans grow louder and stronger as he feels you cum around his hand and against his face. You roll your hips into him, riding out your high. The pleasure you’re feeling is otherworldly, euphoria that only he can send you to.

You come back to center as he pulls his fingers from you, resting his face against your inner thigh and looking at you lovingly.

“Was I a good boy?”

“Yes,” you declare. “You were.”

He stands up and says, “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way.”

“Came all this way to eat me out and leave?”

“Oh, well I-”

“Stay awhile,” you say, moving over on the bed for him.

And for once, he stays, letting you softly rub his back and showing you a side of him you’ve never seen before.

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x f!reader #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x f!reader #cooper howard #fallout #fallout series #fallout fanfiction

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tencrushesperday · 3 days

Note

dont know if you take request or what not but i would die for a 7 minutes in heaven with mrempes. whole size kink and all just being trapped in a closet with him during a house party visibly knowing all the girls want him but he chooses you.

warnings : suggestive language (i guess?)

i think im better at writing angst and sad stuff (got a lot of experience to take inspo from lol)

“You”, Matt said pointed in your direction. You hated playing this game until he had picked you. He stood up from his armchair, the girl that was perched on the arm rest almost falling down but he paid her no mind. His eyes were set on you and it set your body on fire.

You grabbed the hand he was extending you to help lift yourself up from your spot on the couch and followed him to the closet. Who knew playing 7 minutes in heaven as adults would be this fun.

You had been a regular at the Lake House since your teenage years. Your parents owned a house down the street so when the Hughes boys would throw a party during the summer or go out on the lake you would attend and bring some new girls that were in town for the summer each year. You had also met their college friends and teammates throughout the years.

However this was the first year that Matt Rempe had come. You heard that Ethan Edwards, a friend of Luke’s had brought him along. You had made a mental note the first time you saw the guy to thank Edwards because boy was he something. Tall, big, a pile of muscle that could throw you around like a rag doll. Overall, your type.

He opened the door and let you in the clothes first. A gentleman too. You gave him a smirk and went in. He followed and tried closing the door behind him but he was too big. He was mumbling apologies as he tried to close it again but failing.

You grab his shirt and pressed him to your body. The door closed now.

You had to crank your neck all the way up to look at him. Was that blush on his cheeks? It seemed he had looked at you with determination earlier but maybe you have misinterpreted his gaze.

“We can just talk if you want to.” he was avoiding your gaze.

“Oh don’t go all shy on me now big boy.” you said with a chuckle. His eyes drifted to you finally. His gaze was intense. You felt so small under it. And naked. Not like you were very dressed with just your bikini top and jean shorts.

Even those felt like too much when he was looking at you that way, towering over you.

His left hand slowly traveled from the uncomfortable position on the shelf behind you to your cheek. So he just needed encouragement. How sweet. “Are you always this cocky?” Amusement laced his voice which made your lip tug upward in turn.

“I’m worse usually”

His other hand moved to your hip, his touch burning hotter than the summer sun. His fingers spread on your back and he pulled you closer to him. “Is this okay?” his voice so low, you felt it in your core. You hummed in response. “Lost your voice already baby?”

To show him you were still in control, your other arm, that wasn’t grabbing his shirt, reached up to his neck and dragged him down. Your lips hovered over his, teasing. He wanted to take it slow? Why not make it as painful as possible.

He exhaled heavily then closed the distance between you two. The kiss was heated and heavy and his tongue slipped into your mouth right away.

Might as well make the best of the 7 minutes.

Your hand reached under his shirt, his toned abs feeling hard as rock. You were holding onto his waistband and eager to get to more exploring. His own hand traveled lower from your back then he nudged your thigh to jump.

Leaving your explorations for later, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. The very few times you pulled apart was to get into a better position in the small space.

The 7 minutes were coming to an end and you remembered where you were when you heard footsteps outside the door. You slid down from Matt’s grip. When your feet touched the ground, your legs were slightly wobbly from the state he had felt you in. Your head was spinning and you just knew you needed more of him.

“We are not done.” he whispered in your ear when the door opened. Your voice was failing you so you nodded.

You went back to your seat on the couch and were stealing glances to Matt until the end of the game. Once this game was done, you knew you were going to follow him into the nearest available room.

#matt rempe x reader #matt rempe

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akumakosuke · 2 days

Text

†Our cursed love†

★Chapter two- Your infinity.★

{soooo I finally wrote another damn chapter! Yay! Motivation is a very hard thing to come across but I have so many fucking ideas and a bit of motivation so I'll be updating hopefully every week or two}

No warnings just fluffy fluff

~Three years later ~

Somewhere…

The sky is dark. The seemingly endless void of inky blackness only outshined by the brilliance of the full moon and the countless twinkling stars accompanying her. The calm, serene silence of the night and low whispers of the gentle breeze, rustling of the unkept grass at the border of the Gojo property, rhythmic chirps and noises from the creatures that call the moonlight home, makes for a perfect night…

Two young, lonely souls meet atop a hill, both guided to each other by an unexplainable pull. Two young Gods under the night sky, unaware of how they’re slowly falling.

“Hurry up idiot! We don’t have all night!” A 13 year old Satoru spoke with annoyance as he runs ahead of his best friend.

“Geez, I’m coming! Why do have to run huh!?” Questions an equally annoyed M/n, having to speed up to keep up with the energetic Satoru.

The two boys soon start running at the same pace, the wind whipping against their faces, making their hair dance with the breeze. Wide, carefree grins adorn their faces as the run turns into a race.

The still night air is soon interrupted by joyous laughter, so pure, so happy.

M/n speeds up, overtaking Satoru, he turns back to look at his counterpart with a smug grin.

“Too slow Satoru~” he teases, sticking out his tongue.

Satoru scowls and speeds up, easily catching up.

“Slow? Who me? You’re the slow one M/n, try to keep up~”

Satoru ahead, leaving M/n in the dust as he heads to the tree on top of the hill. He runs and runs, the crisp air filling his lungs, his feet making no sound as he steps. He can’t hear M/n but he knows he’ll show up soon so he can’t slow down.

He finally gets to the tree, yelling victoriously. He turns around, expecting to see the defeated face of M/n but he sees nothing. No M/n. He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn’t be that far behind right?

Satoru tries to sense his cursed energy but unfortunately M/n has been training to hide his presence completely and apparently he’s gotten really good at it. Not even his six eyes can find him, Satoru really needs to train more.

He sighs, brilliant blue eyes that shine as bright as the moon scanning the fields. He quickly spins around, hearing a faint sound in the tree. His eyes examine the treetop, a playful smirk etched on his face.

“Oh so you want to play games my dear, M/n? Alright I’ll play your little game.” He muttered playfully as he slowly approached the tree, his six eyes active, using this as an opportunity to hone his skills.

As expected he gets no reply. He chuckles softly, his heart beating faster, excitement buzzing in every bone. He hears another rustle making him snap his head in that direction. He hums softly.

“You’re bad at hiding, you should just give up now.” He jests, hoping to rile M/n up and make him make a mistake. He stands directly beneath the tree, looking directly up into the foliage, thin streams of soft moonlight poking through the leaves but no M/n.

“Boo…”

Satoru freezes, his heart leaping out of his chest when he hears that soft voice behind him. When he feels his warm breath fanning his ear, when he finally senses that familiar presence.

M/n’s voice is as soft as the breeze and Satoru becomes hyper aware of their proximity causing a blush to creep up on his face.

He spins around and striking blue orbs clash with bright crimson ones and like every time the world seems to come to a stand still, everything fades into background noise and he finds himself drowning, like the air was stolen from his lungs.

M/n smirks, relishing in that dumbfounded expression he’s come to like so much. He loves catching Satoru off guard, slipping past the infamous six eyes. He notices the blush, confused at first but then it dawns on him how close they are. His heart speeds up, his breathing coming to a stop and he finds himself drowning, like the air was stolen from his lungs.

~M/n POV~

‘What’s happening to me? I feel frozen, like time stopped entirely. Why is my heart beating so fast?’ My thoughts race as we have a staring contest, neither of us saying a word.

Normally I would be able to read Satoru like an open book but I can’t read him now. That’s not his normal annoyed or shocked look. What is he thinking? Why isn’t he saying anything?

~Satoru POV~

‘My heart feels like it’s going to explode. His gaze, why does his gaze make me feel like this… this warm fuzzy feeling in my chest. When I’m near him it’s like my senses are dulled, like everything else becomes a blur… what is this?’

I feel goosebumps forming on my skin and I don’t think it’s because of the breeze. My heart pounds in my chest like a drum and I finally snap out of my daze and quickly turn away with a very awkward laugh causing M/n to do the same.

This has been happening more often, both of us just getting lost in each other’s gaze but we never address it. We just laugh and move on. I sometimes wish he didn’t move on, I sometimes wish we would address it but it’s probably nothing really.

~3rd POV~

M/n shoves Satoru’s shoulder, the awkwardness quickly dissipating into the blissful calm of the night.

“Come on, we don’t have all night.” M/n says as he walks to their spot on the hill and sits down in the grass.

Satoru glares at him playfully, making a mental note to get back at him for the push, but also mentally scolding himself for getting distracted. He approaches M/n and settles down beside him,

They both lay down, nestled in the soft embrace of nature. The grass is cool, their backs supported by the earth beneath them. They both gaze up at the celestial canopy that seems to stretch infinitely, adorned with a myriad of twinkling stars that paint the night sky with their radiant glow.

They settle into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence. A calm retreat, a break from the busyness of their lives. In this moment they forget their destiny’s and simply exist. Their curious eyes trace the constellations that have adorned the sky for eons, they seem so small and insignificant compared to them but they known how significant they are, as significant as the stars themselves.

Like the stars they will both be shining beacons of hope, hope for humanity, hope for sorcerers.

“My father increased my training today, it was exhausting.” M/n’s whispers, his soft voice carrying a tiredness no 13 year old should have.

“Really? Again? Didn’t he increase it last week?” Satoru asks, his sympathetic voice providing a sense of comfort for M/n because Satoru understands.

“Yeah, he says I need to be stronger to face the evils of the world. He’s always going on about how special I am, how strong I can be. My potential. It’s annoying.” M/n’s tired voice has a bitter edge, the deep resentment he has for his father shining through.

M/n has never had the best relationship with his father and Satoru knows everything in great detail. He knows what a harsh man (f/n) Goto can be. He trains M/n to the point of collapse every day, claiming to be doing this for his own good.

“I’m sorry.” Satoru whispers, turning his head to gaze at M/n. He doesn’t need to say anything else, those two words spoken with such understanding and sincerity nothing else needs to be said. M/n knows he means it wholeheartedly.

M/n turns to gaze at Satoru, a grateful smile on his face. All the tension leaving his body when he gazes at those eyes. “It’s fine, I’ll get through it. How’s your training, I’ve noticed you using your infinity more often.”

Satoru smiles. “I’ve been learning how to keep his active for more than a few hours, I can manage it for around 3 hours without breaks. You should have seen my mother the first time I did it, she told everyone in the clan.”

M/n scoffs. “Of course she told everyone. You’re her little miracle after all.”

“Hey, I am a miracle and three hours is a long time, it still makes me exhausted.”

“Well mister miracle, I never said that it wasn’t impressive, it actually is.”

“Mister miracle? Really?” Satoru asks with a deadpan expression that soon breaks as he starts laughing at the ridiculous nickname.

Satoru’s laughter is contagious, making M/n burst into laughter as well. Both their laughs blending together in the purest of sounds, a symphony of joy.

Their fit of laughter slowly dies down, the echoes carried off by the breeze.

“You are terrible at nicknames M/n.”

“What? Would you prefer if I called you something else? Like Gogo, or jojo, maybe Jogo! Nah, Jogo sounds stupid.”

“Firstly no, secondly why are they all my last name?”

“Alright fine~ and they’re all your second name because I like your first name just the way it is, it’s perfect!”

Satoru looks at M/n like a deer caught in headlights, not expecting that. It’s stupid, those words don’t really mean anything yet they make his heart skip a beat. Perfect, his name is perfect…

M/n gets confused by the blank stare and silence, raising an eyebrow. He tries to tap Satoru on the shoulder but is stopped by a force. He frowns, looking down at his hand that’s mere inches away from Satoru but will never reach. Infinity.

“Oi, why is your infinity on? We aren’t supposed to use our techniques tonight. You’re gonna exhaust yourself and leave me to carry you all the way home… again.” M/n said in an annoyed tone, sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest.

Satoru also sits up, quickly pulled out of his fantasy. He smiles sheepishly, looking down to avoid M/n’s gaze. “Ah… well i just wanted to see if I can do it subconsciously… it is actually taking a lot out of me… even my six eyes is draining…” he mumbles nervously, knowing how M/n gets when he pushes himself too much.

M/n’s frown deepens, he scans Satoru from head to toe, noting how his infinity is still up, seeing the slight bags under his eyes, he was also running slower than usual. He didn’t even bring his glasses, he always forgets his glasses.

M/n doesn’t like Satoru’s infinity, when it’s on he feels like the gap between them suddenly grows and Satoru is out of reach, untouchable. M/n feels a spark deep within his soul, that same pull he felt when they first met. That voice in the back of his head, the one that told him to turn around, it’s telling him to reach out.

A part of him is telling him the gap between them isn’t as big as he thinks. All he has to do is reach out. M/n knows he can bypass Satoru’s infinity, it’s part of his inherited cursed technique. The Gojo and Goto clans are intertwined, and have been since the Golden age. They are extremely similar, both techniques bending reality in some way.

M/n knows of the technique to bypass Satoru’s infinity but he’s never been able to use it, he’s tried but alway failed because it’s too much of a strain on his eyes, his eyes like Satoru is an integral part of his clan. His eyes help control his inherited technique, without the Atomeye he could never hope to control his cursed technique. The cursed technique he’s been struggling with, Distortion.

M/n can distort the laws of physics, permitting the user to violate any physical law displaced in the universe. Everything that composes physics including space and time. Satoru’s infinity doesn’t actually stop things, it slows them infinitely, M/n can distort the space and time around himself, creating a barrier of complete nonexistent, nothing can pass this barrier because nothing can exist within it, not even Satoru’s infinity.

M/n takes a deep breath, concentrating his cursed energy into his hand, by focusing on one part of his body he could maybe sustain the technique for a while. He focuses on the feeling of non-existence, clearing his mind of all thoughts. He slowly reaches out, his movements slow and unsure.

Will he be stopped again? Is the gap between them only growing larger? Just a year ago they were on the same level. Now it feels like he can’t catch up. He can’t fall behind. He can’t be left behind. Not even infinity can stop him.

Satoru freezes when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. The touch feels like fire in his veins, it burns with an indescribable warmth, making his skin prickle with goosebumps. He is absolutely sure he had his infinity up, he was using it. Nothing can get past his infinity, only-

“Satoru…”

Satoru slowly turns his head towards M/n. That soft, gentle purr of his name compelling him, drawing him in. Like a damn sirens call and he’s helpless, unable to resist.

M/n forced himself to steady his voice, trying not to react when his technique finally works.

Their eyes meet and Satoru can feel his infinity slipping, exhaustion slowly creeping up on him and the way M/n looks at him isn’t helping. That soft look in his eyes that tells him he’s safe, that he can relax. It always manages to disarm him.

“Turn it off.”

Satoru finds himself nodding, offering no resistance as he turns his infinity off. His eyes slowly start to droop, a yawn escaping his lips without his consent. He doesn’t want M/n to know how exhausted he is and he doesn’t want to fall asleep when this is the only time they have together.

M/n sighs softly, turning his own technique off. He can tell how tired Satoru is so he won’t pester him with a lecture. Instead he slowly pushes Satoru back down on the grass, lying back down beside him. Satoru once again offers no resistance and quickly succumbs to his exhaustion.

He didn’t realise how tired he was until now. Satoru’s eyes flutter closed and he unconsciously scoots closer to M/n, craving his warmth. He lays his head on M/n’s shoulder, draping one arm over his chest, curling up to his side.

M/n’s breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at Satoru with wide eyes. His heart thumps wildly in his chest it feels like it’s going to explode. He tenses up slightly, his arms hovering awkwardly in the air because he doesn’t know what to do, this is the first time this happened.

The longer M/n stares at Satoru’s peaceful expression the more relaxed he becomes. His arms slowly lower, one wrapping around Satoru’s waist and the other under his head. His heart calms down and he sighs, feeling the gap between them disappear.

M/n knows they can’t stay out here for long, both of them having to be home before anyone figures out they’re gone in the first place but he can’t bring himself to disturb Satoru and he’s also a bit tired himself. His eyes slowly flutter closed and he allows sleep to overtake him.

Two God’s lay atop a hill, wrapped in each other’s comforting embrace. The infinity between them now non-existent. They slumber under the moons watchful gaze, separated from the complexities of their existence, shielded from reality even if just for a moment.

#malereader #male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto x male reader #satoru gojo x male reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #†ourcursedlove†

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 hours

Text

i am confused

Making this its own separate post + expanding on it so it doesn’t get lost in the quagmire that is the book 7 part 8 update 💀

Feel free to let me know your own thoughts or theories too, I’m just rambling here.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

So like… Is anyone else confused as to how Silver can use his UM Meet in a Dream so many times with NO ONE making a comment about how he's building up a considerable amount of blot???????

Vargas Camp seems to suggest that using one's UM typically uses up a considerable amount of magic compared to a non-UM spell. (The boys felt it would be dangerous to cast UM without at least a sizable magestone.) This is not true of all UMs though; Kalim's Oasis Maker, for example, allows him to offer up a small amount of magic to produce a great amount of water. So let's say for argument's sake that Silver's UM is similar to Kalim's and does not require a ton of magic per use.

But??? That still doesn't make a ton of sense???? Silver was in constant battles against Silver Owls while in Lilia's dream, meaning he is physically being chipped away at. No matter how physically fit, capable, or well-trained he is, Silver is only human and his stamina and perseverance has its limits. He also suffered immense emotional distress in Lilia's dream after realizing that he is the son of the man who killed Malleus's mother ON TOP of having doubts that he is worthy of Lilia's love AND fixating on how no matter how hard he tries, he can never truly "pay back" his father. I guess it can be argued that the pixies healed them on their trek (+ there was that one scene where Lilia and co. rest in a Silver Owls camp) and that Silver "got over" his feelings after Sebek shouted at him about how much Silver is loved... Even then, that's not really a good explanation??? Silver climbed up those daunting mountains surrounding Castle Blackscale--mountains which have oppressive magic that harms humans. This is POST-pixie encounter, so he'd still be walking in with damage from that, not to mention the blow of lightning magic he took from Maleanor???? I'd also think that while Sebek's pep talk (well, pep shout) helped clear Silver's head, it wouldn't invoke a sudden character change on the spot; Silver would no doubt still have lingering feelings and would need time to properly sort them out and reconcile with them. They haven't been addressed in full yet, at least not until Silver can like get some closure on his own terms, maybe by sitting down and talking with Lilia about everything they learned. (That's definitely a topic for post book 7 though.) Now think about how many times Silver is expected to use his UM. At minimum, he has already used it 4 times (to show up in Yuu's dream, then to hop into Sebek's dream, then Lilia's, then Idia's). In the most recent update, Silver has used it no less than an additional 4 times (to jump from Idia's dream to Epel's, then to Rook's, then to Vil's, then to presumably a Scarabia boy's which is where the next update will likely pick up). THAT'S ALREADY 8 TIMES????? And he has like 11 or 12 more dreams to visit, including having to jump back to Idia’s dream and then prep for fighting Malleus???? It's like 20 times Silver is expected to use his UM, with very little down time in between because... oh yeah, TWISTED WONDERLAND IS ABOUT TO HAVE ETERNAL NAP TIME IF THEY DON'T HURRY TF UP 🤡 That's not even mentioning the increased loads each time Silver casts his UM (since they're collecting students like Pokemon to gang up on Malleus). If previous UMs imply anything, more people should make it more difficult to pull off a spell. Ruggie had to use a magic-enhancing potion to control a whole statium, Cater is strained the more clones he creates at any given time. Jamil's hypnosis magic cast upon a group causes him to accumulate blot so much faster. Shouldn't this be a major concern for Silver??????? Should I be concerned for Silver????????

Don't get me wrong, I love that we're able to dream hop and see what each of the main cast characters are dreaming of, but 💦 I don't know if I should be worried or not about Silver's health???????? Because I could see why the devs would just hand wave it off in this instance (cuz how else are they going to travel to each dream and save the world? They're kind of on a time crunch here...), but at the same time I can see it going the other way and sort of breaking immersion?? Unless this is all intentional and they're going to jumpscare us with a Silver OB or him struggling against it later in book 7 💀 (I mean... the guy hasn't gotten his limited SSR for book 7 yet, so maybe it'll be related to this???)

Or is it just possible for him to break the limits of his magic since this is a dream...? We’ve seen other characters OB at will and be able to seemingly stay rational while in that form... but if that's the case, then why does Silver still feel tired and physically worn down in Lilia's dream after fighting so much? Why do they worry about taking too many hits and actually dying within the dreams? Can't he theoretically stay at "perfect" health after using his magic so much???

Does it not count as using “real” magic since they’re in a dream and therefore have much more flexibility in how they spellcast?? Or is it that it’s their dream!selves casting so it’s not real magic since it’s not their physical forms spellcasting…? Is blot accumulation slowed since Silver is technically sleeping and rest helps with healing from blot?? But then how does that impact their real bodies if at all?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M CONFUSED OTL

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seiya-starsniper · 20 hours

Text

Six Degrees of Separation

Rating: Teen || Chapters: 1/4 || Word Count 1.4k

Summary:

The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past.

Hob Gadling wasn't planning on adopting three teenagers and a full grown woman, but stranger things have happened in his long centuries of life.

Read here on Tumblr, or over on AO3

dedicated to @softest-punk for making me emotional about Hob adopting the kids in DBD 💖

----------------

“In here!” Edwin shouts, gesturing frantically at the entrance to a pub that looks vaguely familiar to Crystal. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much time to wonder before the banshee chasing them lets out a blood curdling scream. Crystal rushes in with Charles right behind her, pushing the door and slamming it shut behind her. Thankfully the pub seems to be completely empty except for one man.

A man who looked extremely pissed off to see them.

“Oh bloody hell, fuck no, not you, out!” the older man shouts, moving out from behind the bar and looking ready to chase them out by force if necessary. Crystal braces herself, glancing around frantically for some sort of back door that she can bolt to if necessary. She’s pretty sure she can outrun him.

Charles and Edwin however, are a different story.

“Hob, it’s us!” Charles exclaims, throwing up his hands in an attempt to show no harm.

“We’re sorry for bringing a ghost to your door, Mr Gadling,” Edwin adds. “If you’ll just let me borrow one of your books to get rid of this banshee, we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Not you two, her,” the man, Hob (what the hell kind of name was that?) growls, pointing at Crystal accusingly. Edwin and Charles turn to her in shock, and Crystal is about to protest that she has no idea what this man is on about, but then the memory of how she knows Hob Gadling comes flooding back to her.

The pub they’d run into was The New Inn and Crystal had almost burned it down last year because some girl she hated at school had come here for her 18th birthday. With all of Crystal’s friends, sans Crystal. Ex-friends now, since Crystal had tried to burn the place down with the whole party still inside. Hob had, unsurprisingly, pressed charges, and it took a lot of money from her parents to make everything go away.

“I’m sorry!” Crystal yells, just as the banshee screeches and slams its body against the door behind them. It lights up an iridescent blue, a warding against ghosts. Of course Crystal had to go and fuck up the one supernatural relationship she had because she was an idiot asshole last year.

“I know this isn’t a great time, but I’m kind of a different person now?” Crystal says, having no idea how to even begin to explain the weird circumstances of the last month. “I swear what my past self did isn't who I am now,” she adds, also raising her hands to show she means no harm.

“She’s part of the Dead Boy Detectives Agency, mate,” Charles interjects, while Edwin nods furiously in agreement. “Please don’t throw her out!”

The banshee lets out another screech and slams itself against the door, rattling the frame so hard that Crystal’s afraid it might fly off the hinges at any moment. Whatever ward Hob had placed, it wasn’t going to hold out for that much longer.

“What the hell is going on?!” a familiar voice cries out, and then Jenny Green of all people is coming out of what Crystal assumes is the kitchen. She’s also brandishing a butcher knife, because why would any of that change now that she lives across the pond?

“Jenny?!” Charles and Edwin yell.

“Oh fuck,” the older woman curses, glancing back and forth between the three of them and Hob. Crystal really hopes they haven’t just gotten Jenny fired. Finding a job had been tough enough for her when they'd relocated, and she had refused any help financially from Crystal.

“You know them?!” Hob asks, shock clear in his voice.

“It’s a long story,” Jenny grumbles, then screams when the banshee throws itself against the door again. “What the fuck, why did you lead a ghost here? ”

The door rattles and creaks, and the ward around the pub shimmers and vibrates angrily, which seems to finally prompt Hob to action. He straightens his back, rubs a hand over his face, and then takes one, two, three deep breaths before he looks them all over appraisingly.

“Jenny, get the salt from the back,” Hob orders, gesturing her back to the kitchen. “The iron knives should be on the shelf next to them. Edwin, you know where the tomes are,” he adds pointing upwards, likely towards a room on the second floor of the pub. Jenny and Edwin nod quietly before disappearing to their designated posts, leaving Crystal and Charles alone with Hob.

“Right, so since when have the Dead Boys gotten themselves involved with trust fund brats?” Hob asks, still eyeing Crystal warily as if he expects her to pull out a lighter at any moment.

“Since this trust fund brat got possessed by a demon and got her memories stolen,” Crystal answers, wincing when she realizes how harsh that sounds. “Sorry. I just recently got them back and it's been a weird time. I really am sorry though. For like, nearly burning this place to the ground cause I was mad.”

“You did what? ” Charles cries out, his mouth agape. “Please tell me that was all David’s doing.”

Crystal scrunches up her face and then shakes her head. “I wish it was, but no. Just plain old shitty Crystal,” she answers truthfully.

Hob looks between the two of them, then sighs, his expression softening.

“Look, clearly you’ve done some soul searching and I am the last person who should be allowed to hold a grudge against someone who’s done some bad things,” he says, then gestures to Charles. “If the boys vouch for you, then I’m willing to bury the hatchet. All right, Ms Von-Hovercraft?”

“Please just call me Crystal,” Crystal pleads. She really hated being referred to by her surname. It still felt weird and foreign to her, after everything she had gone through. Hob huffs, and this time when he looks at her, there isn’t a shred of contempt in his expression.

“Yeah okay. Crystal,” he says warmly. “You can call me Hob.”

Crystal wants to ask where the hell the name Hob comes from, because she’s pretty sure she remembers his name being Richard , but before she can say anything, Edwin and Jenny come back and Hob turns his full attention to taking care of the banshee that’s trying to get past the wards he has around the entire pub.

“You’re lucky Tuesday’s a slow night,” Hob says, before he starts flipping through the tome. “Jenny, Crystal, make a salt circle by the tables over there,” he adds, pointing to his left. “You’re going to need to lead her there so we can trap her.”

Crystal and Jenny make as large of a circle as they can, pouring generous amounts of salt into the floor. When they’re done, Hob instructs them to the front of the pub, where the door is still rattling and glowing angrily. Edwin and Charles are standing next to Hob, Charles with his cricket bat out, and Edwin and Hob ready to chant the spell within the tome.

“When I count to three, open the door and run like hell into the salt circle,” Hob tells them. “One, two, THREE!”

Crystal throws open the door and both she and Jenny cover their ears as they run towards the salt circle. The banshee’s cries are even louder now that she’s inside the pub, but their plan works. She follows them straight into the circle, then screeches again in anger once she realizes she cannot follow them out. Her long hands try to grab for Jenny’s apron, but Charles materializes right at the circle’s edge to bat her hand away.

Hob and Edwin start chanting some spell in what Crystal assumes is Latin, and the banshee screeches at an even louder volume than before. The salt circle alights a bright gold, and Crystal and Jenny are practically thrown backwards by the force of the magic taking effect.

The banshee lets out one more high pitched scream, and then her dark grey dress suddenly becomes stark white, dark and wet black hair paling slowly to a soft light brown. When the banshee lifts her face, her eyes are no longer sunken and black, but wide and bright green.

She’s beautiful, now that she’s no longer in pain.

The Night Nurse shows up shortly afterwards, collecting the woman and gently reassuring her that she’s going to a better place. She looks at Hob like she’s offended by his very existence, which the man takes in stride and cheerfully waves her off, telling her to say hello to her boss for him.

“Right then,” Hob says after the banshee and the Night Nurse have left. “Now that that’s taken care of, care to explain to me what the bloody hell is the connection with you lot?”

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #hob gadling #crystal palace #edwin payne #charles rowland #jenny green #will eventually be payneland and dreamling but this part is gen

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carmenized-onions · 1 day

Text

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life— Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “Let’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear x you #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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ohbo-ohno · 13 hours

Note

Ooh, vampire Ghost putting human Soap in a muzzle gag both as to degrade him and hear his muffled noises, taking his ability to speak like he was an animal, while also it having delicious irony since it’s something you’d more associate with vampires due to the threat of fangs. Collars biting into his neck that Ghost says are for his own good otherwise someone could bite him. Plugging his cum in Johnny’s holes up with Soap’s own old vampire fighting equipment. And Soap is helpless against it all and has to start liking it even to cope with his situation.

oh my god i have no idea what i posted or when to get this gift of an ask but WOW it is beautiful and wonderful and ily

vampire hunter soap who is soooo determined to kill ghost but is just disgustingly outclassed. maybe he's trying to prove himself to other hunters, maybe he's trying to earn his way back into society after some sort of mistake, or maybe he's just young cocky and dumb, but regardless he's hunting after ghost with a single minded intensity

and vampire ghost usually just slaughters any humans who try and fight him. maybe he'll play with them for a bit, but humans are so boring to someone as old and strong as he is

johnny, for whatever reason, peaks his interest. maybe it's the way he smells/tastes, maybe it's the way he's so determined to kill ghost, but it's something. and ghost turns his first human in centuries (and probably the first he actually plans to keep)

tbh im not sure in an au like this if ghost fully shows johnny how to Live, and then conditions him back down to how he wants. i personally don't love the idea of johnny not knowing how to exist without ghost, just because it's so extreme in this case, but i feel like realistically ghost is making sure johnny is dependent on him for everythingggggg

i loooove your muzzle idea!!! also imaging ghost keeping johnny muzzled 24/7, except when johnny's feeding (and always from ghost). so eventually when ghost takes the muzzle off, johnny's already got his mouth open for whatever ghost wants to give him :( helps with his throat training quite a bit <3

big thick leather collar all around johnny's neck, and no matter how much he claws at it and whines ghost doesn't take it off. says it's for his own protection, tugs the cloth away from johnny's neck a bit and says you want me to bite you, pup? not sure i could resist with the way you smell, you want me to bury my fangs right here? and smirks when johnny gets all horny and scared :(

ghost filing down johnny's fangs when he bites down too deep during one feeding session :( he has to start cutting himself for johnny to feed because his boy's too weak now, but he loooves feeling johnny's dull baby fangs try desperately to pierce his skin when he gets hungry

ghost taking johnny hunting, holding him close and showing him how to stalk his human prey. whispering in johnny's ears about all the times ghost did this to him, all the things he saw johnny say and do, all the mistakes he made. when johnny's humanity kicks back in at the last minute before killing his first human, ghost holds his jaw open and forces his teeth into their victims throat

ghost jacking johnny off every time he feeds, to give him a positive association with something he still fundamentally hates so much. loves how teary and upset johnny gets, how conflicted he is. praises his boy endlessly when johnny starts getting hard without even needing his fist right after a fresh kill

#asks and answers #ghoap #bo writes #< kinda

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choccy-milky · 11 hours

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Hi Darling! First of all.. OMG I REALLYYY REALLYYYY LOVE YOUR FIC ♥️♥️♥️! I've been a silent reader for too long and this is the first time I came to the surface to thank you for this amazing fic and art that you've made.

I also have gathered my courage to ask you this. But headcanonically (if that's even a word but wtv 😭) in your fic world. Did Sebastian ever court or interested in someone before Clora? I had a wild thought that he was into someone and had courted them but wouldn't last long because he had to take care of Anne and this lass he courted was tired of his rambling about Anne this and Anne that. Sebastian decided that they should end things because not appreciating Anne means not appreciating him.

And when he dated Clora. He met her again. She desperately wants him back and apologises (She does have another intention though). He declines because he's already ill with her and is now crazy in love with our darling Clora. He chooses not to tell Clora about this. But I wonder what happened if Clora knows tho.

ANYWAY! THANK YOU FOR READING MY LONG ASS WILD THOUGHTS BUT I AM AN ANGST GIRL IN THIS ANGST LIFE. 😭😭😭💙💙💙

AW THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME💖💖IM GLAD TO HEAR IT💖💖 AND OK its funny you bring this up bc i actually planned for sebastian to have a bit of an internal monologue in my most recent chap about the girls he's had a crush on (before clora--omg... B.C), but i ended up cutting it out because it was part of a deleted scene. but no seb has never actually dated/courted anyone before clora, tho he defs did have crushes....but if he WAS with another girl before clora....🤔🤔hmm🤔🤔 i guess it would depend when in their relationship clora found out? if it was at the beginning when clora was still really shy/nervous/self conscious, it would obviously make her even moreso, and she would have compared herself and wondered if she was good enough and if she was doing things right. and i feel like that early in the relationship, if that other girl DID come back and try and get with seb, clora might actually be worried they'd get together again, esp if she ever saw them talking (kinda like the lawley situation, but in reverse BAHA) if it was NOW though and clora just suddenly found out....LMAOO oh boy. she'd obvs be like why did u never tell me, and itd go something like this: seb: "it was brief enough that i didn't see any point in mentioning it--we hadn't even snogged." clora: "well, it just so happens that i was with a boy before you, too. but we hadn't snogged either, so by your logic, i guess you don't care." seb: ".........." seb: "........alright, point proven." (and then seb would be all worried and confirm that she hadnt actually been with anyone before him/that she was just messing with him, and shed be like LMAO YES IT WAS JUST FOR ARGUMANTS SAKE OBVS) anyway clora might be sad for a bit but she'd get over it pretty quick, since she knows seb is so devoted to her/hed make it a point to be a huge simp for her to show her he has no leftover feelings for anyone else LOL (like how he was after the relic incident & during her period) honestly its just hard to make clora jealous in the first place, bc seb is such a mega simp for her LMFAO. and aS HE SHOULD BE!!!👇🧎‍♂️

#its too late in my fic for drama like this LMAO but maybe i can incorporate an ex gf into the modern AU #omg WAIT YES!!! THE MODERN AU RIVAL FOR CLORA CAN BE THE POPULAR CHEERLEADER #MY MODERN AU IS ALREADY TROPEY AS HELL BAHAHA SO WHY NOT!! and it works out since hes on the football team BAHAH omg #clora going as a friend to his game and then that cheerleader girl is all over him on the field and clora cant do anything about it BAHHA #im evil thank you for the inspo #ask

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bengiyo · 2 days

Text

At 25:00 in Akasaka Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Shirasaki struggled to build the emotions for his character in the love confession. He begged for another opportunity, so the crew agreed to try again the next day. Hayama went over to Shirasaki's place unannounced, cooked, flirted, and cuddled this man so gently to get him to talk about things he likes. This built to an excellent moment where Shirasaki built the feelings he needed for the character at the same time as his burgeoning realization that he likes Hayama.

I am excited to spend time with Shirasaki sorting his feelings. It's totally normal to get complicated feelings for your costar when you have to believably perform attraction to a version of them.

That braised pork looks so good.

GOOD NEWS, FELLAS: WE ARE USING THE BIG TV!

I so appreciate that Hayama knows that Shirasaki needs specific positive feedback on his performances.

This kitchen is reminding me of Kohinata and Wataru's place. Pretty sure it's the same place.

This dough scene is very sensual.

Welcome back, Baby is a Messy Eater. Love the show quickly flashing back to the kiss with a heartbeat backing it to make sure we get what that has always implied. Bonus points for there still being sauce on his face after.

Yes, show me the audience loving Shirasaki's performance before that snake supporting actor comes back to start negging again.

I think this is Hayama's manager? I'm glad someone told Shirasaki before that other dude.

Aww his manager is getting emotional. I wonder if he felt like he believed in Shirasaki but wasn't sure how to make others see that.

Baby boy can't enjoy his regular restaurant anymore without getting too much fan attention, and now he's getting weird messages. Let my boy live!

The actors playing the interviewers are doing a great job. Shirasaki has a standoffish nature that's hard to break through.

I'm glad we're doing this story in an industry that is still making the show while it's on air. I am excited to see how the reception affects the filming process.

Oh nooo. The curry doesn't taste right, and the blow dryer feels wrong. They led into this by mentioning loneliness and then delivered. Good job, BL.

They even muted the colors on screen to double down on it!

Oh, I like this hug.

I love this show for immediately complicating this scenario with an interloper right as Shirasaki was about to fall into his own spiral. I'm so excited to see how Hayama reacts to this.

This show is really feeling stronger to me as it goes on. We made comparisons to I Became the Main Role in a BL Drama for obvious reasons, but the shows are really distinct for me at this point and I really love the work being done here. I'm really impressed.

#Ben watches #at 25:00 in akasaka #25 ji akasaka de #japanese bl #bl series

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alittlebitofloveliness · 3 days

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Outsiders Prompt fic 1- Aren't you tired of this?

This for @battleslippers who requested prompt #6 and Tim Shepard

******************

“Heyyy Tim,” Curly was sprawled out on the sofa for the third time this week, glassy eyed and sloppy. Ma was beside him, eyes the sort of bright Tim knew could go from nice to nasty in an instant and for a second he thought he might cry.

He didn’t- of course he didn’t- but he could’ve. Shit, Curly was takin’ this whole situation real hard. He’d always liked his booze a bit too much but Tim figured that was just part of their DNA. This was something else though. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his kid brother truly sober.

“Timmy,” Ma smiled and Tim felt his shoulders tense. There was no good ending to his mother’s brief moments of excitement. He’d survived enough of her tantrums and rages to know it, “come sit with us! Have a drink.”

She’d always liked him the best.

“No,” he tugged the bottle of tequila out of Curly’s hand, “I think you’ve both had enough.”

Ma’s face darkened, “I am your mother. Don’t think you can tell me when I have and haven’t had enough.”

His mother. Right. Maria Shepard wasn’t his mother. She was a child without a childhood. A baby who’d had babies. A monster of her own making.

“Fine,” he knew better than to argue. They wouldn’t make it through the afternoon without her screaming, but if he played his cards right they might get a few more hours of peace, “but Curly’s done.”

She didn’t fight him. She never did when it came to the twins, never had, never once even wanted to.

“Aw that ain’t fair,” Curly protested, but his voice was slurred and he was too drunk to stand on his own let alone fight him on it. Tim passed the liquor over to Ma, who immediately took a swig. “I wasn’t- wasn’t finished.”

“Oh you’re finished all right,” moving to the side of the couch, he wrapped one arm around Curly's thin shoulders- christ the kid needed to eat more- and hauled him to his feet, half carrying, half dragging him down the hall to his room.

He dumped him onto the mattress on his side of the room. Angela had propped hers up on milk crates years ago but Curly had always left his on the ground, always slept curled up in the far corner, even when he was a baby, like if only when was small enough and far enough beneath notice he could ever have a chance at resting.

“Aren’t you tired of this?” Tim asked, “The boozin’ and the drugs- don’t say you ain’t tried anything, why else would you be a mama’s boy all of a sudden? Seriously kid, you’re killin’ me here.”

“Nah,” cloudy blue eyes blinked at him, “I’m killin’ myself.”

A shock of panic shot through him like lightning.

“Shut up!” He shook his kid brother’s shoulders half desperately, “You ain’t! Shut up!”

The faintest hint of that troublemaker grin showed on his face, “you can’t stop me.”

“Watch me.”

Curly’s eyes filled with tears. Tim couldn’t say he didn’t expect it. Drunk folk were awful predictable, even though Curly was- per usual- trying to give him a heart attack.

“He’s gone, Tim,” Curly’s voice broke, the drunken grin and sardonic comments replaced with such genuine misery Tim can feel it stinging even him, “they- the socs- the socs killed him. Drowned him in a fountain like-like he wasn’t nice and smart and good-”

“-I know,” Tim doesn’t really do affection and Curly doesn’t usually like it but shit the kid needs something, and per usual Tim is all he’s got, so he pulls him into a hug tight enough to bruise even though its clunky and awkward not a Shepard type thing to do. Those damn socs had already taken one east side kid this month. He’d be damned if he let them take another- even indirectly. He’d be damned if they took Curly. “Shit kid, I know.”

“He was my friend.” Tim knew that wasn’t strictly true. Ponyboy Curtis had always meant more to Curly than a simple friend.

“I know.”

Curly swallowed convulsively before starting to sob in earnest, tears soaking into Tim’s sweatshirt.

“It’s ok,” Tim said, knowing it wasn't any sort of ok, “it’ll be alright.”

They stayed like that until Curly finally fell asleep.

#the outsiders #tim shepard #curly shepard #ponyboy curtis #purly #the outsiders fanfiction #lovelythoughts

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ornii · 11 hours

Note

Yoo can i request a wenclair x male reader who is a streamer but no one knows about it in the school until Enid saw a fan of reader ask him for a picture

Tier 3 Sub!

Enid Stares hard and intently at the Computer screen as she watches a streamer who rarely shows his face, Wednesday peers into the room.

“You’ve been staring at that computer screen for four hours, as little as I care about your wellbeing it is.. odd for you.” Wednesday started. Enid turned to her, smiling.

“This guys voice is, so beautiful! I can’t see his face though..” Wednesday shook her head.

“I never understood the obsession of others though a screen, and his voice most likely isn’t even—“ Wednesday droned on, until the Streamer saw a request.

“What songs can you mimic?” Good question, I’ve been working on the pitch for d4vd, like this” he clears his throat and effortlessly hits the right notes.

“Watch the sunrise along the coast / As we're both getting old / I can't describe what I'm feeling / And all I know is we're going home / So, please don't let me go / Don't let me go~

And if it's right, I don't care how long it takes / As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face / Save your tears, it'll be okay / All I know is you're here with me~ “

“I still gotta work on the pitch.” He awkwardly laughs, Wednesday and Enid are both now staring at the screen. He gets another request from Enid this time.

“Oh, WolfiutUwU2012. Asks if I play and instruments, I do! Let me show if I can.” He adjusts his camera to focus on the wall, as a black guitar was on the shelf, Wednesday noticed the wall and door nearby. It was a boys dorm, and the window showed the Quad at a downward angle.

“I know that room..”

“You know his room?!”

(Y/n) was enjoying his stream as per usual, until there was a scary and frantic knock at his door, “sorry guys gimmie a sec.” He stood up and walked to the door, but not before muting the stream. He opened the door and Wednesday stood there, he tilted his head a bit. “Uh.. Hello?” He said.

“Sing for me again.” She spoke so calmly, which just made (Y/n) uncomfortable. “I-I’m sorry?..”

“Save your tears, I don’t know how but your infectious voice wracked my brain..” Wednesday stepped closer, making (Y/n) retreat back. Enid finally catches up to Wednesday and grabbed her friend by the shoulder

“I am so sorry about—“ Enid looks (Y/n) in the eyes and immediately stopped talking, he looked was carved out of marble by a sculptor, a god.

“My.. friend..” Enid blinked a few times and (Y/n) gave an awkward smile.

“So.. you guys like the stream.”

“Very much.” Wednesday said, “your voice is like a soothing poison in my ears, wallowing me into a enteral slumber.”

“…” (y/n) looked at Enid for help.

“She means she likes it.. sorry for bursting in your room! We’ll leave you alone now! Btw gonna be a tier three sub!” Enid pulls Wednesday out and slams the door shut. (Y/n) shook off his creepy and unironically hilarious that interaction was, he went back to his chair and sat down, the camera aimed slightly down to his chest.

“Sorry about that…” he said, many question marks and “what happened” floods his stream and he laughs. “I met.. two really cool people. Both of them were really cute too..”

He didn’t have to hide his smile, and was having the time of his life, maybe this new streaming thing does have more benefits than he expected.

#wenclair x male reader #wenclair x reader #wenclair #enid x male reader #enid x you #enid x y/n #wednesday x you #wednesday fluff #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #Wednesday #male reader #x male reader #Ornii

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shobolanya · 3 days

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dead boy detectives is a special show to me because all the characters are so amazing and i actually fell in love with so many of them (and it's hard for me to get attached to almost everyone in a show) here's why!

of course i first thought i was going to love Charles the most, because Jayden is one of the most beautiful human beings i have ever seen in my whole life and actually i do love his character. he's such a ray of sunshine and he's actually so sensitive and sad but masks it with a smile and i ahshhshdhdjd and the way he handled Edwin's confession oh my God.

but after i started watching the show i started loving Edwin. his pathetic little meow meow attitude but also the smartass side have taken a strong hold of me and will not let go

the female characters! at first i was okay with crystal, but after the first episodes i started liking her as well and i especially love how much she cares about the boys and what a badass she is. niko is my moat beloved. an anime and manga lover? YES PLEASE and she's actually so smart and the fact that she keeps the sprites is the best. jenny is genuinely the ideal woman for me, i don't know about them, but if i were in the show i would have asked for her hand in marriage the second i saw her. maybe unpopular opinion but i love the night nurse (maybe because loved rowena in spn and ruth connell is amazing) and i really want her and the agency to be friends

the Cat King became my favorite from the first scene he appeared on because

1.he's a cat

2.he wears a skirt ( men in skirts >>>>>

3.everything he did in the show bewitched me (the last scene with Edwin bshshdgshs)

Esther served so much, what am evil queen

Monty is just a tiny child, must be protected, but also he's a crow and a twink who caught feelings for the guy he was supposed to trap for Esther (anyway i want him back he was a lil astronomy lover)

Tragic Mick aand his story was just so 😭🥺🤲, dw i would have listened to his story, he looks like he tells really wonderful tales

and all the other characters were so cool too, Kashi, the Sprites and even Simon,the cats, the ghosts.

Please Netflix give us another season!

#dead boy detectives #well this is long #BUT #I love them smmmmmmm #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #the night nurse #the cat king #esther finch #monty the crow #tragic mick #please netflix pls #season 2 plz

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madebythe0cean · 3 days

Note

Hey I may have an ask but many I ask for an Hogwarts legacy MC that transform into a puffskien, but every time the MC gets pick up by someone they scream bloody murder untill they get put down back on the ground? All students + professors if u can btw have a great day and drink water and stay safe 💝

A/n:This made me laugh so hard with the mental imagery 💀 all I can imagine is that one frog scream.also thank you!gotta stay hydrated in this hot ass weather lol💖

Hogwarts legacy characters with an Mc who was turned into a puffskein who sings the song of their people

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Sebastian💀:

✭ Bro he was laughing his ass off at you.i mean mans was clutching his stomach for mercy type laughter

✭ he tried to pick you up but immediately dropped you as you released the most ungodly screech known to wizard kind

✭ aaaaaAAAAAAAAAÆÆÆÆÆ

✭ this gigglemug was the sod who accidentally transfigured you into the small puffball you are now

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Ominis 🐍:

✭ He was next to you when it happened and was repeatedly asking what was happening only to be met with uncontrollable laughter and the following screech

✭ His wand showed Mc’s form one second and a….small beast? The next…Sebastian what did you do this time?

✭ He swears that his fellow Slytherin will be the reason he’s sporting a full head of grey hair by his early twenties at least

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Amit⭐️:

✭ Oh boy this poor lad got quite the scare when he was minding his own business with his new lunarscope and a little puffskein came barrelling into him

✭ The incessant squeaking made him worry that the poor thing was hurt when Garreth came tumbling in seconds after quickly mumbling something about ‘new poly juice variant gone slightly awry’

✭ Said gingers sad attempts at picking up the newly fluffy Mc nearly blew out his ears.Garreth held on for a good while to as you wiggled and squawked like a mandrake

✭ the poor boy was so worried he was hurting you he swept you up into his arms and onto the floor next to him with a glare that could wither a venomous tentacular

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Garreth🧪:

✭ Ok in his defence he was certain his new concoction would work! Maybe he did skip a few of the necessary steps of the original recipe…and maybe he did tell Mc it was just a slightly modified wiggenweld so he could see the effects…ok not one of his brightest ideas-but! He’s positive that with a little bit of work his new variant will work even better than the original recipe

✭ He’s apologising repeatedly as you spasmed in his hold but your quickly taken and soothed by a VERY annoyed soft spoken Ravenclaw

✭ With a fleeting guilty smile he flees from the crime scene before his aunt could catch wind of one of her (favourite) students being turned into a bouncing ball of fluff

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Imelda🧹:

✭ Ok no,if you expected any sympathy you came to the wrong Slytherin entirely

✭ she’s the one who nudged Sebastian’s wand as he was casting to mess with him…you just so happen to be in the cross fire

✭ Although her wheezing laughter was cut short as she poked your nose smugly when you nipped her finger.hard.

✭ yeeeeeah you almost got hit across the class like a quaffel

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Natty🦌:

✭ Oh dear….She sees now where that Slytherin and Griffindor rivalry comes from

✭ She is NOT amused by the two Slytherins mocking laughter and lack of help with your obvious distress

✭ she notes quickly your distain for being picked up as her ears still ring from your little song

✭ Gently stroking your small form,feeling your rapid heartbeat,she mutters little words of comfort in Swahili

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Poppy🌻

✭ good luck getting out of her arms,screech allll you like your now her pocket puffskein pal

✭ You eventually succumb to her iron grip(how is such a small girl so damn strong????)

✭ She’s going to keep you as a puffskein for as long as possible,totaaaaally not asking garreth for more of his ‘brilliant brew’

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Professor Fig📚:

✭ Well there’s certainly never a dull moment with Mc around is there?

✭ While he’s certainly unamused with Garreths experimental concoctions he admires his drive for certain

✭ He wasn’t expecting the ear piercing screeching

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Professor Garlick💐

✭ she was actually coming to see her dear friend Matilda with a new assignment for you when she heard the distant aaaaaAAAAAAAAAÆÆÆÆÆ

✭ She had to cover her mouth a bit to not giggle at the scene.you being clumsily held by Sebastian while you tried your damnest to bite his fingers

✭ She does clear her throat at Matilda’s faux stern look but quickly takes you out of Sebastian’s arms and onto your desk where your settled surprisingly quickly

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Professor Hecat⚔️

✭ She low-key was reminded of when she threatened headmaster Black with the threat of transfiguring him into a puffskein if he didn’t stop his incessant yapping when they were students

✭ But she keeps a straight face and deduces a few points from Slytherin for Imeldas little prank

✭ she’s surprisingly lax about the whole ordeal.she remembers fondly her escapades when her body was young,the whole situation actually made her chuckle a bit when all was said and done

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Professor Ronen🎊

✭ Honestly? He let out a bark of a laugh before he composed himself.he couldn’t help it! It was quite entertaining to watch young Weasley chase your puffball self around his classroom

✭ But he does use Arresto Momentum to put an end to this little kneazel and puffskein chase

✭ he lightly scolds Garreth for his unsanctioned poly juice brew but overall he’s very chill about the ordeal

✭ After all he made his fair share of malfunctioning potions in his youth.no harm done-well except to his ears but all is forgiven

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Professor Weasley 🦋

✭ She had actually been helping you adjust your wand when you were hit by Sebastian’s stray spell

✭ Both he and Imelda get a hefty lecture as she pats you comfortingly,she totally doesn’t have favourites what do you mean?

✭ She promptly transfigures you back and give a moment to settle as your a bit dazed from the whole ordeal

✭ she also notes to keep earplugs in her desk for future mishaps

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+

Professor Sharp🛡

✭ Thoroughly unimpressed to say the least

✭ he’s not a fan of the incessant screeching and bouncing you seem to taken up

✭ Oh boy does Garreth get his fair share of detentions for this stunt and a looong lecture about the dangers and risks of potions

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