#my poor poor neglected inbox

[daily-dose-of-danno]

May I, perchance, get a few morsels of Johnny 13's pal Shadow?

Season 1, Episode 14 - 13

#13 #shadow #danny phantom #daily dose of danno #request #my poor poor neglected inbox #</3 so sorry to those of y’all who requested something that I haven’t gotten to #</3 I swear I haven’t forgotten y’all </3

[philistiniphagottini]

To the Anon that came into my inbox the other day and suggested that Boothill had vibrating fingers. I couldn't stop thinking about it. This one's for you baby cakes <3

cw. smut, fingering (fem receiving), boothill's vibrating fingers, squirting, smidge of oral at the end, female reader

"Holy fudge" Boothill drawled.

His words were followed by a soft whistle as he cooed your name, the soft metallic whir in his voice causing a pleasant tingle to ripple down your spine. You shivered beneath him, blood simmering hotly beneath the cold press of his metal body as he hovered over you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes as he watched your pussy swallow two of his fingers with rapt attention.

The tips of your ears burned red hot at the way your drooling cunt slobbered filthy around his vibrating fingers, warmth curling in the pit of your stomach as he buried his fingers all the way to the knuckle inside of you. A salacious moan bubbled up your throat as your long lashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes hooded by Boothill’s favoured hat as it was pulled low over your eyes. Your thighs trembled as long wisps of his hair tickled your bare skin, goosebumps erupting along your arms despite the searing heat of your flesh. The sweat soaked bedsheets clung to your clammy skin as you pulled the material taut between your fingers, nails threatening to rip holes as the knot in your stomach twisted tighter. Your toes curled into the soles of your feet as Boothill massaged his fingers against your soused walls, your plush insides fluttering and pulsing as a third finger teased your sopping hole.

"Good girl" Boothill praised as he soothed his free hand along your hip, fingers digging into the soft pudge of your stomach as he watched your pussy struggle to take another one of his pulsing fingers. "Taking me so well, darl."

You could almost hear the neurons in his brain firing as the circuits in his inorganic body thrummed with energy, the pulsing of his fingers slowly intensifying as he poked and prodded your velvety walls until he found the blistering, gummy patch inside of you that made stars swirl in your vision. You shrieked loudly as a third finger pushed inside of you, a pleasant burn aching between your thighs as more slick dribbled from your pussy, translucent pearls staining the insides of your soft thighs as the beads of your arousal drizzled from your centre. You struggled to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth long enough to form a coherent sentence, your head feeling dizzy as you tried to keep your eyes uncrossed and prevent them from rolling into the back of your head from the sheer bliss. You swallowed the budding saliva in your mouth, tasting the desire in the back of your throat as your bruised lips parted around his name.

"Boothill…please" you softly begged.

Your poor, neglected clit twitched and ached for attention, the heat simmering in your belly stoked into fiercer flames as Boothill pumped his thick fingers inside of you, your slippery pussy making the slide so much easier as he abused your soft spots with the tips of his fingers. A grin pulled at his lips as he flashed his pointed teeth at you, his tongue peeking out between the seam of his lips as your voice graced his ears like a chime from a shimmering bell.

"Please what, darl? Come on, use your words, pretty girl."

You almost choked on your words as the vibration of his fingers were knocked a notch higher yet again. Your heart droned in your ears like the loud beat of a drum, your pussy squelching noisily as you threw your head back with a piercing cry, your back curved into a beautiful arch as your lungs pinched in your chest. Boothill couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face as he watched your chest heave with exertion, soft tits bouncing and nipples pebbling from overstimulation. He was well aware he was being just a tad bit mean to you. But he couldn’t help it that you made the cutest little noises when you were being teased. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of your lashes as you gazed up at him with pleading eyes, teeth chewing on your lips as another wave of pleasure threatened to steal the air from your lungs.

Boothill leaned forward, fingers still plunging inside of you at an unrelenting pace as his face drew closer to yours. He flicked the rim of his hat up with his free hand, cold, robotic fingers curling around your chin and holding your face steady before your head could lull back once more. He hushed you as a small whimper crawled out of your throat, long strands of his hair spilling over your shoulders in a curtain of black and white as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

"Shh, pretty girl. I’m right here. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you."

A soft noise stirred in your chest as your hands weakly clawed at his arm, nails scratching uselessly at his steel body as you tried to hold onto the fraying edges of your sanity. The heat in your stomach was almost unbearable and you didn’t know how much more you could take as pressure built in your belly, the feeling both foreign and familiar as you twisted beneath Boothill.

"Boot…hill…I wanna- want to cum" you rasped with a breathless whimper. "Aeons above please touch my clit."

"Ohh~" Boothill cooed before he clicked his tongue. "So that’s what my girl wanted."

Whatever retort was rolling around in your mouth was immediately swallowed when Boothill pressed his thumb against the slick pearl of your clit, pressing down on the tightly packed bundle of nerves as it flushed to life. Your thighs tensed as your moans echoed around your stuffy bedroom, the tips of your fingers turning numb as the heat in your stomach started to boil. Boothill swirled his thumb around the swollen nub of your clit, rubbing it in time to the frantic pump of his fingers. The sensations of his vibrating fingers were amplified by how sensitive and wet you were, his thumb bullying your clit with unrelenting attention as your pussy squeezed around his fingers. Your shaking hips rolled into his touch as the sweltering knot inside of you frayed, Boothill’s voice tickling your ear as his tongue swiped at the perspiration clinging to your skin.

"That’s it, good girl…son of a nice lady you’re gripping me so tight. It’s okay pretty baby, I’ve got you. Just let go."

His words were the last push you needed. The burning coil in your stomach shattered into a million tiny fragments, your veins flooded with white hot euphoria that made your hips lock into place as your pussy spasmed around his fingers. You squirted on his fingers as they continued to vibrate against your pulsing walls, thin strands of translucent fluid spilling from your core. The intimate press of his thumb against your clit felt heavenly as you rode out the waves of your pleasure high, voice scratching your throat as you moaned and wailed. But the prolonged buzzing against your wet and throbbing sex was quick to overwhelm you, the vibrations amplifying your pleasure to an almost torturous degree as another wave of arousal stole the breath from your lungs. You thrashed in Boothill’s hold as your legs wound around his hips, feet kicking his sturdy back as you squawked.

"Too much!"

The vibrations ceased and a sigh of relief whistled through your teeth. Boothill removed his thumb, fingers still stuffed into the hilt inside of you as he swooped down between your thighs and replaced his thumb with his warm mouth. You sighed and mewled with bliss as his lips pressed soothing kisses to the overstimulated bud of your clit, your fingers delving through his hair as you gently pulled on the long strands. His tongue teased the hood of your clit, scooping up your slick before swallowing thickly. A pleased purr tickled his throat.

"Good girl" he praised before pressing an open mouth kiss to your messy pussy. "Damn, I could stay here all night if you’d let me."

#my writing #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #x reader #fem!reader

[reds-writings]

sunday kind of love

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally a bit of pure fun and fluff! this kinda applies to the jealousy, jealousy universe but it can totally be read as a standalone! requests are open so hit my inbox if you so choose! enjoy!

word count: 1.3k ish (a lil treat)

warnings: light cursing but not much else! the ending felt kinda weak so i apologize for that lol (minors begone!)

“Y’know…today is supposed to be one of rest…given that it’s a Sunday n’ all. Just in case you might’ve forgotten.” You remarked in your half-drowsy state, your porch swing swaying idly as you lay draped across it like some lazy house cat. 

The day had you hotter than a sinner in church. The sun sat high and bright in the sky, certainly having no mercy on all the melting folk of Louisiana. Even the breeze that had the old wind chimes you’d hung up ages ago tinkling idly in its gusts was relentless in temperature, offering no aid to your sickeningly sticky skin. With the way you’d been running the AC and numerous plugged-in fans in your house over the past few days, you were sure to rack up one nasty-looking electric bill in due time. Even with all that operating nearly 24/7 it hadn’t made much of a difference in the old rickety house. You’d give just about anything right now if it meant not being so grossly miserable and sweaty in all the worst places. 

The only reason you weren’t inside the slightly cooler haven that was your home was because of a certain pigheaded man who decided today would be the day he busied himself with fixing up your lawn. How ridiculous. One offhand mention of the front yard being a little unruly and your flowers looking a bit lackluster had Rust up and working as if you were Pavlov and he the infamous dog. There was no fighting him when he set his mind on something so you assigned yourself the role of making sure he didn’t drop dead from heat exhaustion like a fool. 

“I’m serious, Rustin. We should head on inside. Ain’t no need to get all of this done today.” You called out again, tipping your head to the side and looking over your sunglasses to see that he had now moved on from getting all the lawn clippings into a trash bag to planting some new flowers he claimed would thrive during the season. The way the muscles under the tan skin of his arms moved and the look of utter focus painted on his handsome features had you smiling something horrendously lovesick. Despite his bullish nature, you knew this was just one of his many underlying ways of showing that he cared for you. Loved you even. You could say that now after certain admissions had been made some nights ago and you found yourself no less giddy after the fact as you thought on it what had to be a million times over at this point. 

Some Linda Rondstat tune played from the old radio that sat propped up on the porch’s railing, causing your bare feet to tap in tandem with the country star’s divine voice. Rust continued to work in silence as you started humming, sitting up to then swing your legs off the bench’s edge. 

You flipped your sunglasses to lay stationary at the top of your head, “I’m feelin’ awfully neglected right now, darlin’.”

That had him finally snorting, “I’m sure you’ll live.” 

“You don’t know that. If I were to keel over right this minute cause a certain cowboy won’t give me the time of day, I bet you there’d be some sorta scientific explanation behind it and it’d have you feelin’ just awful. Gutted even, I’m tellin’ you.” You wagged a finger at him as you went on your theatrical tangent. You saw him shaking his head, continuing to work as if that could hide his growing smile from you. 

“You find this funny but I’m bein’ dead serious. I’ve got one of the most handsomest men in Louisiana on my lawn and he’s too busy diggin’ holes in my garden. Those flowers are gettin’ more felt up than your poor girl over here and that don’t sit quite right with me-”

“Quit it, woman.” He cut in with feigned exasperation though you knew such outward declarations of flirting made by you had him more than a bit flustered. You could live out this whole scene forever if you could. It might’ve been hotter than hell but the landscape was lush and beautiful. The weeping willow taking up a good amount of space on the front of your property danced in the light afternoon wind. The sunlight was hitting everything just right and it had you grateful to call this all yours. The man opposing you only added to the fuzzy feeling dancing in your veins. Snapping out of your sappy thoughts of admiration you saw Rust finally get up from his position and make way towards the garden hose.

You huffed out a dramatic sigh as you forced yourself up and made your way down the weathered porch steps. He stood over the new thatch of colorful flora, thumb half over the hose’s nozzle to spray down his hard work of the day. 

“If I quit it then just how else am I supposed to bug you with my affections?”

“I couldn’t tell ya. Shame that is.” He drawled, seemingly amused with feeding into your impatient antics.

Eyes squinting at him, you tried to fight the quirking of your lips as you ambled on over closer to him. 

“You must got some hidden thing for the works of sadism, mister. Leavin’ me hangin’ for hours on end with no-” You nearly shrieked at the sudden cold of the hose’s stream being flicked at you. The offendant stood opposite of you, too smug for your liking as he took in your half-soaked form. The old tank top and denim cutoffs you had on already left little to the imagination prior to his attack, you could only imagine the form of indecency you found yourself in now. 

“Oh, that’s it. C’mere you little- HEY!” You screeched as the cold spray hit you again. The momentum with which you charged at him had water flying between you both when he got you again. You wrestled each other for the hose, causing more than enough of a mess in the process. The joy in your laughter had Rust’s chest squeezing almost painfully. The stretch of his grin felt foreign to him but he couldn’t manage to control himself. 

As you made numerous attempts to jump up and snatch the tubing from his grip you overestimated your step and slipped on the newly muddied grass, causing you both to topple over. Your belly ached from how hard you found yourself laughing. You almost felt like a child again, drenched beyond belief with streaks of mud and grass finding a new home on your body. A few deep rumbles sounded from the depths of Rust’s broad chest as he pushed some of the sopping-wet hair from your face, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world that made sense to him. As if you were all the answers to his universe wrapped up into one person. The intensity had you knocking his chin with your knuckles softly and wiping some water from his face. 

“You’re an ass, y’know that?”

“And you’re one sore loser.” 

“Loser?! I’ll have you know I managed to take your lanky ass down in one fell swoop-” 

You were silenced by the sudden press of his kiss. It was hard to reciprocate as you felt yourself smiling harder but he persisted despite the clumsiness of it all. Moments like these were something you’d never take for granted. Any chance to see the man in front of you free of all of his persistent burdens, even if just for a moment, were times you could hold on to forever. You felt nothing short of lucky that he let you in. That you were able to cross paths and choose each other in this life. 

You had a feeling there were probably other lifetimes in which you danced this similar dance as different people or different beings. Destined to always find your way back to each other come hell or high water.  Damn. Rust's daily cosmic ramblings and otherworldy mumbo jumbo were starting to really get to you.

Though you couldn't help but wonder if he happened to feel it too.

a/n: late night post but we love silliness and laughter! as always feedback is greatly appreciated! hopefully, this wasn't too ooc!

#reds-writings #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle imagine #fanfic #true detective season 1 #true detective imagine #matthew mcconaughey #true detective #rust cohle

[stargirlfics]

on vacation this coming week and it’ll be a relaxing staycation with my fiancé (poor guy injured his knee playing soccer 🥺 fun activity plans have changed but resting will still be much appreciated) so i plan on catching up with some asks/headcanons I’ve been neglecting (they’re for Alfred and im so excited!) and working on wips, I have a couple I’m focusing on which are also Alfred fics cause I miss my old man lol! so things are in the works, I know it’s been a little quiet on my end here but feel free to send thots or just come talk to me in my inbox! 🌟🌸

hoping everyone’s weekend is lovely, you deserve it!

#a whole week free to write and catch up on reading?! so happy! #text

[corrodedbisexual]

Curious as I plough my way through my poor neglected AO3 inbox

#fanfiction #ao3 #fandom #writing #poll #polls

[miscelunaaa]

shell-ter | knj

pairing: hermit crab!namjoon x marine biologist!reader (who is also soft-bodied because reasons)

genre: crack, humor, smut, strangers to lovers, hybrid au, really just unabashed nonsense

summary: While walking on the beach and avoiding your responsibilities, you stumble upon a line of hermit crabs waiting to exchange shells. It should be an exciting moment for you, but instead there’s this random naked guy yelling at you to leave his friends alone. Why can’t a stroll on the beach ever just be a stroll on the beach?

rating: 18+ for maximum crabby goodness

word count: 6.9k

warnings: Scientific inaccuracies around the nature of crabs, hermit crabs, and other adjacent decapod crustaceans (I tried my best, I promise). Implied early pandemic setting. Writer plays fast and loose with hybrid tropes. Swearing. Crabby Namjoon lmfao. Meet ugly. Awkward public nudity, which is also very likely illegal wherever this is set. Joon’s crab friends leave him to die. Probably inaccurate descriptions of hermit crab mating conventions. Namjoon being casually naked the entire fucking time. Instinctually protective Namjoon. Lots of hybrid nonsense. Bittersweet ending?? Kind of??? Look, Namjoon plays by nature’s laws, y’all. This is perhaps the least feelingsy thing I have ever written. sexual content in the form of: Breeding kink. Oral, female receiving. Face sitting. Body worship??? Size kink. Big Dick!Namjoon. Dirty talk. Strength kink. Unprotected sex with other birth control in place. Rough-ish sex. Squirting. Possessive Namjoon. Hybrid nonsense. 

notes: this is all @thatlongspringnight’s fault, so everyone pls be sure to thank Julie. I ironically and unironically love hybrid fics, and this series is going to be my homage to the more ironic side. There will be more chaos!! I’ve got ideas for each member, some more than one! Please note that this is a significantly delayed crosspost from my AO3 pseud. I’m still trying to decide how to approach this space in a lot of ways and posting this is partially me feeling out how I personally feel about getting work out in this space anymore. 

Please also note!! I am no longer doing any tag lists. If you want updates for as soon as I post a fic, please subscribe to me on AO3. Updates go straight to your inbox and AO3 is way more stable than this fucking dinosaur of a platform. And this is to say nothing about it actually giving a shit about writers. 

my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3

The sun has only been above the horizon for a short while and already it feels like the sand’s been baking underneath its gaze for hours. The tiny grains each feel like hot coals as they wend their way between your toes. You scowl and try to step more carefully. Seokjin’s already fucked up the shower drain once or twice after neglecting to shake the sand off his body; you’d hate to be the next call to your cranky landlord.

It’s not a glamorous life, being a marine biologist, but someone has to do it. Or at least, that’s what you and Seokjin keep telling yourselves every time the university threatens to cut your funding and bring both of you back home. Someone has to study the beach flora and fauna, right?

Right?

“But why crabs?” you mutter to yourself. “Why the fuck did I pick crabs …”

Hermit crabs aren’t even real crabs, you muse to yourself as you step lightly over the early morning beach. They’re still crustaceans, just not “true” crabs like their sisters in the infraorder. Every time the university threatens to cut funding, you have to explain it to some bureaucrat who doesn’t think it’s important to know the difference. To the average person and their piss-poor science literacy, taxonomy seems like a lie anyway.

All things become crabs in the end. You’re more than ready to carcinize and join your tiny decapod brethren. Seems easier than waking up at the asscrack of dawn just to put on pants and a bra and see if you can catch them moving shells all at once. At least the crabs are nicer than anyone in the finance department so … take me now, crab daddy or whatever.

Today doesn’t seem promising. You’ve been trying to observe a vacancy chain for a week, with no luck. It’s not even for your thesis; you’re just fucking bored. Like fine yeah whatever you could be working on your thesis right now but why do that when you can avoid it and watch hermit crabs line up and wait patiently for shell to free up? They even naturally orient themselves!! They line up by size! That’s way more fascinating and way less depressing than talking about brachyura behaviors in wild environments versus commercial ones.

Maybe you should have picked the fake crabs instead. Maybe your advisor would let you change your thesis … for the third time …

Better not. It’s just easier to procrastinate the inevitable at this time.

Hours pass, and nothing’s happening on the beach. You’ve walked it up and down, you’ve reapplied sunscreen, you’ve finished both water bottles, and you’ve seen nothing, not even a lone crab sighing. You go home for lunch with a sigh, taking care to knock the sand out of your sandals before going into the dinky apartment. And then you repeat it all again, leaving this time with a sun hat and stronger sunscreen for the intense afternoon light.

You’d think by this time that the sound of the waves beating the shore would drive you nuts and remind you of your failures, but no. It’s the only thing soothing your annoyance at the lack of hermit crabs and your lack of will to work on your thesis.

Every once in a while, as the sun makes its way across the cloudless sky, you sit for a moment in the hot sand, dropping your notebook to the side. During these moments, you allow yourself to stare out into the sea and let the quiet flow through you. It’s nice, really. No one’s been coming to the beach because of the pandemic, so it’s personal nature hours just for you, the lone soul brave enough to venture out.

It’s during one of these moments, late in the day, the sun just beginning to touch the horizon after a long day of making things unbearably hot, that you see it. Or, rather, you see them.

Hermit crabs, perhaps a half dozen or so, beginning to queue up in the sand. It’s adorable, really; they’ve arranged themselves biggest to smallest, and they’re holding onto each other with their claws to make sure the order is maintained. At the end of the line lays a shell, just a bit too big for the biggest crab to move into.

The wonders of nature never cease to amaze you.

You watch from a few feet away, trying not to make any sudden movements, as a few more crabs join the line and the rest shuffle to make sure they’re in the right order. You turn to reach for your notebook.

As you’re flipping through to the first available page, you hear a little pop.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The angry voice makes you jump, your notes and pen flying somewhere as your hat falls off and you scramble to look dignified instead of very obsessed with crustaceans.

“N-NOTHING?? I-I waS—”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” The voice is angry, accusatory. Your head spins around to find its source before you’ve even located your pen and you’re too startled to care about the undignified shriek you emit when your eyes find it. Or, actually—if you had to make an assumption—him.

A man, tall and lanky and naked as hell, is staring down at you. His hands are on his hips, his skin burnished gold in the mid-afternoon sunlight. Good lord, he’s so fucking naked! And angry!! But mOSTLY NAKED???

Why is an angry naked man yelling at you on the beach?

Why is it also kind of turning you on???

(Maybe Seokjin was right, maybe you do need to get laid.)

“Do you fucking mind?” He’s tall too, glowering down at you with handsomely hooded eyes, his full lips set into a hard line that makes no sense with how soft they look.

This is not the time to be thinking about this man’s mouth!! What are you doing? Has the sun addled you? Say something!

“D-do I mind? Mind what?”

“Do. You. Fucking. Mind?” the man spits at you. His eyebrows furrow.

Don’t look down. Fuck. Do not look down.

“Do I mind?” Something in your brain finally fires correctly. “Do you mind?? Naked asshole yelling at me?”

“This is my natural state and this is my turf—”

You scramble up to stand, almost falling over because your head swims from doing it too quickly.

“Your turf? This is a public beach, dickwad.”

Dick. Don’t look down don’t look—

Fuck. You looked down. Ohhhhhh boy did you look down. Oh wow. That’s a peen. That’s a big ole peen out in the sunlight in public on this here public beach. Holy shit. He’s gifted and he’s naked and he’s on the beach yelling at you and fuck why is this making you so horny???

“Lady, I don’t know who the fuck you are but you’re on my turf, you’re scaring my friends, and you need to fucking leave so we can do our business and get back to doing what we do.” The man’s chest is rising and falling rapidly as his jaw ticks with frustration. He’s got really nice pecs and his n—NO. FOCUS.

“I’m sorry, what friends? It’s just you and me here on the beach.” Thank god. This would be hard to explain to the local cops.

He steps to the side and points at the ground, to the little hermit crabs in their line. “My friends??? The crabs that you’re disturbing, including myself???”

The incredulity in his voice makes it click for you.

“Oh. Oh my god, are you a crab hybrid?”

He puts his face in his hands and shouts through his palms: “YES.”

“I … okay, are you all hybrids? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I—”

“Save it, I don’t care. Could you just leave us alone now? You’re scaring the littler ones and we all just want new shells.”

You bend over to pick up your notebook. “I’m a scientist, I promise I wasn’t trying to scare you and your friends.”

“Fine, whatever, just leave us alone please? You’ve been walking up and down this beach for days and you’re disturbing the peace.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the sand stuck between your sandals and the soles of your feet. Your heart sinks. “Ah, yeah. I can … do that. I guess.”

It’s better this way, probably. You need to start working on your thesis anyway. Your notebook feels heavy in your hand as you secure your hat back on your head.

“Great,” the man says. His shoulders relax as he sighs. “Great. Thanks for understanding. I have to get back to it but if I see you around again, I’m coming for you. Got it?”

Did he have to say “come for you” while ass-fucking-naked on the beach and looking like a hunky dreamboat??? You feel something in the pit of your stomach pulse with need.

“Yeah,” you say as you abruptly turn away. Is the sun hotter now or is it just you? “I got it. Bye then, I guess.” God, this is just fucking weird. Hybrid crabs in the wild and they’re kind of hot too. Ugh. Seokjin’s going to laugh his ass off.

“Bye.”

You only make it a few steps away before a loud, frantic “FUCK” makes you whip back around.

The man is on his hands and knees, still very naked and human shaped, scrutinizing something in the sand.

“Um, is everything alright?” You keep your voice low and soft in hopes that your question won’t aggravate him further.

He sits back on his heels, throwing his head back with a groan. His throat bobs, and you try not to think about what biting at his resplendent skin might be like.

“No. No it’s not. I lost my fucking shell because these assholes—” he gestures wildly at nothing in particular “—finished the shell queue without me. The only one that’s left is way too small.”

And now the handsome naked man is pouting. He’s a hermit crab hybrid without a shell and pouting and distraught and now even more naked in a way. Good lord, is this a test? Is there a dude with a camera hiding somewhere recording all of this for reality TV?

“I’m sorry.” What else can you say?

“This is what I get for helping these ungrateful fuckers. This fucking sucks.”

If he doesn’t have a shell, does that mean he’s homeless?

“How long do you think it’ll be until the next vacancy chain forms?”

“The what? The shell switch?” He looks up at you. You’re still standing a little ways away, but the anguish is clear on his face. “I don’t know, it could be days it could be …”

Weeks.

Shit. You can’t just leave him out here like this.

Without thinking, you walk over to him and squat down to look at him at his level. “I’ve got a roommate, he’s a scientist too. I’m sure if we explain what’s going on, he’d be okay with you crashing with us for a bit. If you want, that is. I just … I feel bad. You lost your shell because you were yelling at me.”

The man bites his lip as his eyes trail away, lost in thought. And then, after a moment, he nods his head.

“Okay. It’s the least you can do, I guess.”

He’s hot. He’s kind of rude, but at least he’s hot, you think.

“Great,” you reply, hiding your slight irritation. You shrug off your sun protective button-up and hand it to him. “Tie this around your front to cover up. It’s just a five minute walk from here. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

He looks at the shirt and takes it reluctantly.

“I’m Namjoon.”

The first thing you learn about your new hybrid acquaintance is that he has little regard for personal boundaries. The moment he steps into your apartment, he refuses to leave your side. You’d expected him to be skittish, maybe, but not clingy like this. You’d had to keep him out of your bedroom as you changed out of your beach clothes, and you’d actually locked the door to the bathroom for once because it took too much convincing to let him know that you weren’t going to suddenly disappear on him, leaving him alone in a strange place. You weren’t unconvinced that he wasn’t going to to break the door down. You could hear him pacing on the other side as you tried to pee in peace with mixed success.

If you hadn’t been convinced of his hybrid status before, watching him sniff at the air and scrutinize everything in your little apartment would have been enough to change your mind. And then there’s his proclivity for nudity, which just further proves his nature. His behavior is just that removed from what you’re used to from normative humans.

You’d also expected more questions from him, if you were being honest. Then again, just because Namjoon had been encountered in a wild environment didn’t mean he’d been born out there. He’d not been perturbed by the microwave or the stove or even the hot water kettle you’d started as soon as you got out to the kitchen. But fuck, he was weirdly clingy.

You frown as you wait for the water to boil. You don’t know much about hybrids, but if you had to guess, his clingy behavior likely has something to do with you being an available female and it being the mating season. August is primetime for horny hermit crabs; maybe his instincts are drawing him to you in some way because of it. If you’re being honest, you don’t completely hate it, though it feels a bit cringe to admit that to yourself. Even so, you try to shake the shame. So what if you enjoy the fact that he may or may not at this point in time consider you desirable in some way? Who doesn’t want to feel desired every once in a while?

As you reach up to open a cabinet above the counter and grab a box of tea, you hear something rustle behind you. Namjoon probably, still looking around while hovering.

“Namjoon, do you want some—”

Your voice catches in your throat as you feel a warm body press to your back. Large hands appear on either side of you, grasping the counter. You feel warm breath on your neck.

“—tea?”

A nose nuzzles into your skin, lips exhale a shaky breath.

“You smell really good, baby,” Namjoon says. “Smell good enough to eat, to …”

T-to what? You feel like you’re about to implode. To whAT??

“To what?”

Ugh, you sound pitiful with your voice all airy like that. You’re lucky anything managed to come out at all.

His hands don’t move to touch you, but his chest is scorching against your back. He’s close enough that you hear him swallow as his lips brush just barely against the shell of your ear.

“To breed.”

Namjoon’s voice is so low it brings goosebumps to your skin. A tremble passes through you, and you’re certain he can feel you shiver between his form and the counter.

“That exciting for you?” he asks. “The idea of getting your cunt fucked by a hybrid cock?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

His hands finally move, his weight settling against your back as he begins touching you, brushing his fingertips against your forearms and over your hips.

“Do you want me to mate with you, baby?”

“Yes.” God yes.

The scramble for your bedroom is a blur. All the way there, your hands are trailing over his skin while his are pushing your clothes up and off. You can feel how hard he’s gotten against you, but before you can get your hands on his erection, he’s falling back against your bed and pulling you on top of him.

Maybe you should be worried about how quickly things escalated. And maybe your conscience should shut the fuck up and let you be vaguely irresponsible with your feelings and body for the first time in months.

Namjoon groans as you straddle him, letting your hot flesh drag against his. His fingers sink into the softness of your thighs.

He murmurs a protest against your kisses. “Not yet, I want to—”

You realize he’s pulling you up his torso before can think to stop him. With stunning ease—damn that hybrid strength—he carefully positions your center over his face.

“This. I want this. I want your scent. I want you.” He looks up at you from between your thighs with those intense, dark eyes of his. Fuck. Fuck you want to die. This is fucking obscene. This is fucking—

The first suck against your folds makes your body pulse, and every movement after that brings you higher and higher into a stratosphere you didn’t even know existed. Namjoon is extremely skilled with his human mouth. It feels like you’re being devoured. It feels fucking amazing.

“Taste so ripe for me, baby. Breeding you’s going to be so easy,” he says against you. The vibration of his low, husky voice reverberates up your spine. Goosebumps spring up from your bare skin. Did your nipples just pucker?

Maybe you’ll leave out the fact that you’ve got an IUD. Maybe you’ll just let him have his fantasy about you. You’d hate to break his little paguroidean heart.

Namjoon licks wide stripes through your folds, each stroke culminating in a suck at your clit before he starts the motion anew. He groans into your flesh as if it’s the finest thing he’s ever consumed, as if he can’t help how this makes him feel. Each stroke, each tug, each movement and sound he makes pushes you closer to an edge you didn’t realize was there.

Your hands find their way to his scalp. You run your fingers through the dense hair as you breathlessly moan praises to him. It’s all you can do not to grind down onto his face; you’d hate to feel like you’re suffocating him. When his teeth graze your clit, however, you find yourself gripping his hair close to his scalp and grinding down anyway.

“Fuck, I’m so close, I’m gonna come,” you keen, your hips dragging along his lips.

“Come on my face, baby. Give it all to me,” Namjoon growls. His grip on you tightens and he starts helping you hump his face.

Suddenly, the wave hits you. It carries you past the edge and out into a realm of pleasure you haven’t felt in ages. You cry out, your body tensing as your cunt pulses with release. High as you feel, the emptiness makes it feel incomplete.

It’s like Namjoon senses this, because abruptly, he’s flipping you down onto your back. He towers above you as you whimper and reach for him.

“Please, I need your cock,” you say, fighting tears as your orgasm’s flood recedes.

“I’m going to fuck my spawn into you over and over, baby,” he purrs, his eyes trailing up and down your quivering body. “Gonna fill your soft, pretty body up with my seed. You’re not going to be able to walk for days when I’m done with you.”

You watch as his hand drifts down his torso to tug at his massive length. Will it even fit? You’re not sure. And will he actually wreck you the point of rendering you immobile? Who fucking cares?? You’re willing to see him try. For science. Yeah, for science or something.

You reach for him again, hands open and needy as you help him pump his length a few times before he finally lifts his eyes back to you. He looks hungry, perhaps as even as needy as you feel.

Namjoon finally leans over you, and you feel the tip of his cock start pressing into your cunt. You suck in a breath as slowly, so slowly, he pushes further inside. His size almost hurts; it toes the delicious line between pain and pleasure, and you can’t be bothered to differentiate between the two. Not now, not in this moment.

He groans once he’s finally fully sheathed within you, and the sound of his pleasure makes you clench. The squeeze makes his body tense.

“Cunt’s so tight, so fucking right around me.”

If you weren’t so breathless from being filled, you’d cry out praise in return. You don’t get the chance to catch your breath. Namjoon starts thrusting slowly, and the drag of his skin against your core makes you grip the sheets and press your hips into his.

For a moment, you wonder if this is it. This is hybrid sex. It’s normal sex but just a little bit better in all the right ways. Your hormones sigh in content, but your scientist brain is a little disappointed that it’s not something more.

After a few moments, during which you finally seemed to adjust to his girth, he stops and hooks your legs around his elbows. The stretch of your muscles is unexpected and before he starts to thrust again, you panic.

“Namjoon, I don’t think I can bend like tha—”

“Yes you can. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his face dropping to kiss your knee as you adjust. He’s got your legs bent up at an intense angle, making his thrusts even deeper. Because of his strength, he’s able to help support your weight on his arms and thighs so that you don’t have to support it yourself. You’re completely at his mercy now, and fuck if it’s not the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you.

He picks up his pace as you relax into the position. Every thrust has his hips slapping against yours, the wet sound of his cock fucking your cunt echoing into your tiny bedroom. You realize through the haze that your bed is creaking and hitting the wall behind it as he fucks you hard and deep. You can’t be bothered to care if your neighbors will hear. They can probably hear you moaning and crying in his arms too. The hybrid above you seems to think the same thing.

“That’s right, baby, let them hear you. Let them hear me breed this wet fucking hole. Let them hear me fill you with my spawn.” Namjoon’s breaths are beginning to grow raged. When he’s not grunting obscene, filthy things at you, he’s biting his lip. Sweat’s dripping down his temples and neck and beading at his chest. “You’re mine. This is my cunt, no one else can fill you like this, can they?”

“No one can. I’m yours,” you whimper as your hands trail up to grip his arms. “Only yours.” What the hell has gotten into you? Pre-thesis trip you could never.

His thrusts grow rougher still and you realize that the string within you has wound itself tightly again. Fuck, it’s never snuck up on you like this. Namjoon’s cock is dragging against every sensitive spot it can and at such a quick pace that suddenly, just as soon as you noticed it, the string is snapping.

You scream. You’ve never screamed during sex before. This orgasm’s even stronger than the last; your ears ring, your heart pounds, your cunt tries to squeeze around his length so tightly that he almost can’t move. And you’re wet, so so suddenly wet. There’s a trickle down your ass and into the sheets and you realize that this fucking hybrid’s still fucking you through it as if it’s nothing.

He doesn’t make it much longer after you. As soon as your orgasm begins to ebb, his hips begin to stutter, hard and fast.

Namjoon swears one last time and with a last snap of his hips, he comes, emptying himself within you.

Your ears continue to ring with the sudden silence. The sound of heavy breathing is the only thing reminding you that right, yes, you’re still alive, this isn’t a weirdly real wet dream at all. This actually happened.

You wait for Namjoon to pull out, only to realize that he’s looking down at where you’re still joined. His brow is furrowed, even and his chest rises and falls with recovering breaths.

Finally, you break the silence.

“Everything okay, Namjoon?”

“Yeah, just ... I didn’t realize you could gush like that.” His fingers brush along the stretch marks at your inner thighs as he looks down at the sticky scene.

“Yeah, it’s a bit messy, I’m sorry. It means you did a good job though.”

Namjoon grabs a pillow and places it under your hips before carefully pulling out. You whimper at the sudden loss of his cock.

“Don’t apologize, I just—”

Is he ... is he pouting right now??

He sits back on his heels and surveys your wrecked, tired body, the pout still playing his lips.

“I just wish you could have done that on my face. It smells so good.”

Your feel your face heat instantly. Not even his obscene dirty talk had you feeling this embarrassed. Does he even know what he’s saying right now?? You’re so stunned you can’t even speak.

Namjoon shrugs to himself before finally settling next to you in the bed and pulling you towards him with care.

“It’s fine,” he says into your neck. “The night is still young, it just means I’ll have to try harder when we go again in an hour.”

Your stomach lurches at the thought. You’re not sure if it’s horror or anticipation. “Again? In an hour?”

Morning comes sooner than either you or Namjoon expect, and with it, your roommate, also arriving sooner than you expect.

He makes himself known in his customary way, which doesn’t have the customary result he expects. Barging into your room, already recounting the wonders he saw out at the reef, goes over poorly when you’ve got a hybrid still sleeping in your bed, clinging to you under the thin sheet covering your naked bodies.

Seokjin yelps. You scream. These are normal and expected reactions.

But poor Namjoon … he does neither of those things.

“I’ve never seen a grown man skitter.”

“Well, you scared him. I think he’s got a right to be spooked.”

You and Seokjin are standing outside of your bedroom door while Namjoon hides under your bed, refusing to come out until he thinks it’s safe. Your roommate’s not wrong; the man had absolutely skittered into his new hiding place. He’d actually tried to drag you with him, but you’d resisted long enough to shout at Seokjin to leave before you tore him a new asscrack.

“His dick is … well, it’s huge.”

“Nice subject change there, you jerk.”

“What? You expect me to see an endowment like that and not say something? How did you even fit it inside you?”

“Please don’t say the word endowment. We’re stressed enough about funding without you comparing his dick to the massive amount of money we’re missing out on.”

“Fine. Unlike the rich white assholes back home though, he seems … nice? I guess? The whole hiding under the bed thing notwithstanding. Did he at least know how to use that enormous—”

You hold up a hand. “Just stop. The sex was great. Amazing even. But um, the hiding thing—”

“You’re about to tell me something weird aren’t you. Hon, you’ve got to stop bringing home your weird hippie types, like, you can’t just bring hot homeless dudes home. Living in a van is not the same as having a house! I hope you used a condom.”

“Jin. Ugh. God, that was one fucking time. He’s not unhoused and even if he were, what business is that of ours?”

Suddenly a voice comes from inside your bedroom. It’s muffled, and perhaps a little salty in tone, but it’s now close enough to make you think that maybe Namjoon’s gone from hiding under the bed to hiding under the blankets. “Well, technically I am homeless and it’s all your fault!”

Seokjin raises an eyebrow and levels a hard stare at you. “Talk.”

Namjoon doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to get back to the beach after being coaxed out from your bedroom. In fact, he’s not in much of a hurry to do anything besides follow you around the little apartment, wrapping his arms around your waist whenever he’s got the chance. He’s also not in much of a hurry to put on any of the clothes that Seokjin picked out for him.

Namjoon just looks at the garments and instead walks over to you and pulls your body into his chest. His body is warm against your back. The gesture seems sweet, but it’s beginning to get annoying. Seokjin looks the two of you up and down, your stiff form enveloped by Namjoon’s lanky, muscular one.

He shrugs. “If I had thighs like that I’d eschew pants too, I guess.”

You purse your lips as you watch Jin leave the room, leaving you with the very naked and needy Namjoon.

“Hey, so um,” you start, your fingers finding his arms to loosen his hold on you. “You’re really cool, but I’m not much of a … cuddler? Like casual cuddling is cool but this is a bit much.”

Instead of letting you shake him off, the hybrid’s hold around you tightens.

“I’m not cuddling,” he scoffs. “I don’t cuddle. This is protection. I’m making sure you stay safe until you can release your eggs in the ocean.”

It’s very hard not to roll your eyes and scoff back. This is an instinctual behavior for a lot of brachyura species, and apparently it’s something he’s displaying too.

You pat his arm, perhaps with a little bit of condescension. “Yeah, but I don’t have any natural predators, big guy.”

“True. But you’re still all soft.” His hand trails up from your waist to fondle one of your breasts. Your breath hitches while he continues to speak. “You still need protection.”

“Namjoon, I’m not going to suddenly sprout an exoskeleton.”

“Don’t care. Still gonna do my job as your mate, at least until you can get back to the ocean.”

“Buddy, we had mammalian sex!”

As much as you protest, it’s no use. At any given moment as the day moves on, Namjoon’s got his naked body entwined with yours, to protect you from predators like email pings from your computer and Seokjin (but only when he suddenly stands up or steps too close to you). It’s all you can do to get him to release you from the confines of his embrace so that you can use the bathroom. For his part, Namjoon seems to be content to spoon you on the couch as you mindlessly sort through thesis research.

It could be worse, you guess. You’re getting your touch fix for the next few months of thesis hell.

Seokjin tolerates the interloper as well as can be expected, but softens when he sees the delighted look on Namjoon’s face as he has instant ramen for the first time. It’s a humble dinner, but it does the job. After that, Namjoon seems to soften on Jin too, and finally, you can move around the apartment without requiring Namjoon’s protection.

The next day, the hybrid seems more restless. He’s not ready to go back to the beach, but if you had to guess, he’s close. Now that he’s no longer preoccupied with your safety, he starts inspecting things in the apartment with care. He opens cabinets and sticks half his big body in them, probably just to see how it feels. He smells and sniffs things like spices and soap. He touches the carpet and the couch and the different utensils sitting in the kitchen’s tool crock. Nothing is not worth his inspection, it seems.

At one point, you walk into the living room to see him standing in the box that Seokjin’s extra computer monitor shipped in. He stands in it as if it’s exactly what he’s supposed to be doing at the moment, while still naked as ever, his hands at his sides with his back straight. His full lips are pursed into a thoughtful pout as he stares off into space.

“Everything okay, Namjoon?” you ask gently, hoping you don’t startle him.

He blinks and turns to look at you.

“Yeah. Uh …” He pauses, and looks down at his feet in the box, and then back to you. “Does this box make my butt look big?”

It’s now your turn to blink and not speak for a moment.

This must be an instinct thing too. And it’s one you’re frankly unequipped to handle. How do you tell a hermit crab hybrid that he doesn’t currently need a shell, not in this form at least?

“Um, no, it doesn’t,” you say carefully but casually. “Looks great.”

Namjoon tries to hold your gaze but you glance away and try to make yourself look less perturbed by pulling out your phone and pretending to check the time. When you look back at him, his pout is even more pronounced.

“I don’t believe you,” he grumbles.

The rest of the day passes much like this, with Namjoon trying to see how it feels to cram his big body in various spaces. At one point, you find him sitting in your empty suitcase. At another Seokjin enters the bathroom and comes out screaming moments later; Namjoon had laid down in the bathtub and decided not to make his presence known until Jin had already lowered his fly to pee.

Your favorite might be the hybrid’s discovery of the colander in the kitchen. After inspecting it closely, he sets it atop his head. He thinks for a moment, rolling his shoulders and shifting his weight between his feet, as if to feel out how the colander might protect him from danger. Whatever protection it offers must be enough because after a moment, he nods, and carries on doing whatever it is a hermit crab hybrid does after finding suitable protection. In this case, it’s sitting at the kitchen table, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar with his bare fingers while you and Seokjin chip away at your research.

Later that evening, after you’d all eaten dinner and had gone to bed, Namjoon wakes you up and says, “I think it’s time for you to go release your eggs into the ocean.”

And who are you to argue with his instincts as a hybrid?

As luck would have it, the beach is vacant still, and the weather is having one of its rare mild days. There are no errant visitors escaping their homes for some sun. There are no beach patrols or lifeguards, no kids playing hooky. It’s just you and Seokjin and the increasingly agitated crustacean hybrid who just wants to make sure you deposit your eggs in the ocean like a good girl.

No matter how many times you tell him you’ve got an IUD and a mammalian reproductive system, he still thinks that he needs to see you leave his spawn out in the sea. He’d tried to pull you out of bed to do it last night, but you’d pinched his nipple to get him off you and made him compromise: if he put a pair of Seokjin’s shorts on and left the colander at home to come with you, he could escort you to the ocean to “deposit your eggs.”

So now it’s mid morning. You’re about to wade out into the ocean to please Namjoon’s instincts.

Seokjin had shaken his head and said, “The things we do for science” when you’d woken him. He’s not wrong, you sigh to yourself as you kick off your sandals and shrug off your bag. You set them in the sand next to Seokjin and approach the water lapping the shore. You turn, and see that Namjoon’s close behind you, but instead of looking out at the ocean, he’s looking at the sand underfoot, his brow furrowed.

“Everything okay, Namjoon?”

“Yeah, go release your eggs, baby.”

You hate that his casual language still makes you preen, days after he’d fucked you. It’s even more infuriating that he can make something like releasing imaginary spawn out into the ocean sound remotely sexy. And yet … the things we do for science … and for the people we’d probably come to love if circumstances were different.

The water is warm and comfortable as you wade out into the shallows. It soaks through the running shorts you’d worn and wicks up your shirt as you move deeper, so that eventually it’s up to your waist. You turn and look at the beach, Seokjin standing where the sand is still dry, Namjoon closer, the waves brushing over his toes.

You squat a little, trying to make your imaginary spawning look convincing. After a few moments, you stand and start wading back. As you emerge from the ocean, Namjoon smiles. Ah, he has dimples, how had you never noticed?

Seokjin trots forward and tosses you a towel as you walk further ashore. You wrap it around your middle as Namjoon moves to wrap his arms around you.

“Thanks for having my spawn,” he murmurs, his voice sweet and heady as he kisses your forehead and holds you for a moment. Your eyes meet Seokjin’s over his shoulder, and the man looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. He keeps his cool and swallows it down as Namjoon releases you and clears his throat.

“So uh, just a second, I think—” The hybrid squints and looks out across the sand. “—Yeah, one moment.”

He runs off in the direction he squinted, and suddenly stops and squats down. You and Seokjin watch as he picks something up and looks at it closely. And then he puts it down and picks something else up. The objects are too small for you to see clearly.

“Is he … is that …” Seokjin trails off and starts walking toward him, and you follow.

“It’s another vacancy chain,” you say as the two of you draw closer to the hybrid, just enough to see the gathering at his feet. You watch Namjoon’s eyes trail up and down the line of hermit crabs, who’ve already ordered themselves by size. “Maybe one of them is about to give up a shell that’s the right size?”

Your roommate throws you a glance. “That’s the hope, right?”

You nod. Is he expecting this to bother you in some way? For a moment, you zone out, wondering what you’re supposed to feel about all this. But it’s only for a moment, because suddenly your attention’s being stolen away.

“You fuckers, I’ll fucking fight you!” Namjoon suddenly shouts.

With a little pop, he disappears. In his place is a little hermit crab without a shell, its little spiral abdomen, soft and vulnerable, curled up to the side. Seokjin’s shorts flutter to the ground a second later, now empty. You and Seokjin watch as this little crab, presumably Namjoon, scuttles up to another crab similar in size, and starts to hit it with his pinchers. All hell breaks loose in the vacancy chain, and you loose track of Namjoon as the hermit crabs all swarm and start … fighting, you guess? It’s weird and kind of hard to look at, but you also can’t get yourself to look away.

After a few moments, a lone crab wearing a shell emerges from the scuffle and creeps toward you and Seokjin.

“Is that … Namjoon? Is he looking at you?” Seokjin groans. “This is fucking weird.”

You squat down to look at the little crab. It, or maybe he, waves a claw at you, almost as if saluting, and then walks off quickly. You let your eyes follow him down the beach as he moves away from the fray. When you turn to look back at the vacancy chain scuffle, you see that it’s broken up. The crabs are dispersing and going off to do whatever it is that they do during these late summer days.

Namjoon’s gone. And you can’t help but smile to yourself and wonder what the fuck just happened.

“Is that it?” Jin’s beside himself with laughter. “He’s just fucking leaving? No dinners or dates, just a fuck and run after you’ve fulfilled your purpose? Is there no romance left in the world??”

You stand and dust off your knees, watching your fellow scientist send the hermit crabs scurrying away as he walks up and reaches for his discarded shorts.

You sigh wistfully. “With the way the guy ate me out, I was dinner.”

“That’s gross. That’s fucking disgusting. I don’t need to know that shit.”

“Look I’ve seen things now, don’t knock hybrid dick till you try it.”

“Quit bragging, it’s unbecoming.”

“Fine. Just know that jealousy is unbecoming as well.”

As you walk back down the beach to collect your things, Seokjin squints out to the horizon. He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Well it’s good he was a paguroidea and not brachyura I guess, right? You didn’t like compromise your data or anything?”

“Oh god no,” you shake your head. “I will do a lot of things for science, but that’s not one of them.”

“Then, uh, what was all this then with Namjoon? An experiment of sorts?” He’s got a smile on his face, and a light, teasing tone. He’s trying to make sure you’re okay, it seems, trying to gauge whether or not you caught feelings.

“No, not an experiment,” you say, letting yourself grow quiet with thought.

“Then what would you call it? Like are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” You really are, you mean it when you say it. “This was fun, I think. Just some fun and helping someone who needed it.”

“So is that code for schedule you a vacation for the next mating season around here or—”

Seokjin’s sentence is cut off by you throwing a sandal at him.

“You jerk! I can’t believe you’re supposed to be the uncle to my spawn and you’re treating me this way!”

Your roommate’s laughter peals through the air. “You’ll regret that when you need help coming up with names for your several hundred children.”

“Ugh, thank god for larval stages and precocious young.”

“They grow up so fast. Want noodles when we get home?”

“Please. Let’s head back.”

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. Thank you.

posted: originally to ao3 9.10.2022, to tumblr on 10.26.2022

#namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #kim namjoon fanfic #bts fic #bts hybrid fic #hybrid namjoon #hybrid namjoon x reader #hybrid knj #knj x female reader #knj x reader #knj fic #lmao what is tagging anymore #it's been so fucking long since I last made a big post I think I've forgotten everything tbh

[misc-obeyme]

Omg the ask-inbox chat-room. ✨ funny you mention the memory card cause I just finished reading through it. It’s called "Panic! At the Trap" and I love it. It’s the one where all the RAD students have to nab a card (or something) off of another student that they’re assigned. The Thirteen - Mammon interactions are pure chaos and I desperately wanted to see more. Can you imagine the pairings? The showdowns? Who’s the poor smuck that got assigned Barbatos? I wanna know.

You’re so sweet keeping me on my Pandora train. The short of the Scheherezade-ing story is that she’s sent to collect a thousand souls by command of the CR in the year’s longest night (who, in my head canon, can be pretty brutal) but is stopped by a nameless beggar who offers themselves as her first reaped soul so long as the people of the city live to see the dawn one last time. Naive and arrogant, Pandora agrees. To pass the dark hours, the nameless beggar tells the people of the city a story, but stops midway as dawn appears on the horizon. The next night, the nameless beggar finish their first story, but starts the next one, as the night was still young. Rinse and repeat for 1001 nights.

I like to think this is where Pandora learns about the richness of human life & experience. She isn’t able to control her curiosity and by the end of it, falls for the nameless beggar, so much so that she could never reap them and thus, saving the rest of the city. It’s a nice headcanon for me but like, impossible to write lol.

Honestly, I think it depended on the MC if they’d get along. Pandora can still come off as insufferably above-it-all but is also a huge gossip fiend and actively encourages shenanigans (never maliciously, she just wants to know what happens next). She’s got a lot of hang-ups about who she’s meant to be/what she’s meant to do. I’m curious, do you think she’d get along with any of your OCs?

-🪿honk

I really gotta read more memory card Devilgrams... I tend to neglect them lol! I did read one with Thirteen and Barbatos because hello I couldn't resist it. It was the one called Cinderella's Dream... but anyway, I gotta check out the memory cards you guys are talking about just for the Thirteen content!

Oh my GOSH. I love this story about Pandora! Suuuuper curious about that nameless beggar now, too. Does she ever find out their name? Or is it like... she keeps the fact that she's fallen for them to herself? Either way, I love it.

Impossible to write because of the 1001 stories and such?? 'Cause I kinda think you could summarize most of that and write the important scenes that show Pandora falling for the beggar. Like maybe she's listening to a specific story and something about the way the beggar's voice changes gives her insight into the beggar's own emotions... or if the beggar needs a drink and she brings it to them...

Uh but anyway, there I go getting ideas lol. I like the headcanon a lot! What an interesting situation for her to live through, too. Does it make her more wary of falling in love after that?

And oh yes, I do think she'd get along with some of my OCs!

I think Ciaran would get along with her! You mentioned before that she's curious and has a tendency for disobedience, which is something Ciaran would have in common with her. They might have an issue with the above-it-all attitude... however, I see them kinda just making fun of her for it lol. Ciaran is very friendly in general and I think their curiosity about her would make them want to befriend her.

I think Azrael would like her a lot just because she sounds like she'd cause all kinds of trouble for Stella and he would find that hilarious. Stella would be like what are you doing not reaping humans when you're supposed to be don't you realize how much extra paperwork that creates??

I also think Arsenios would get along with her. He's somewhat serious, but he also tends to do his own thing in defiance of any rules and regulations. He'd be impressed with her for doing what she felt was right instead of what she'd been told. Plus he's a super romantic and he'd be all starry eyed about the idea of a reaper sparing the life of a human they fell in love with. He'd never admit to that, though!

#I am always happy to chat about OCs #and it's always fun to think about how they'd interact with my OCs too! #obey me #obey me oc #obey me ocs #🪿 anon #misc answers

[tenebriism]

slam dunks prom into your inbox for that ship meme

Send Me a Ship and I'll Tell You . . . [ ACCEPTING ] ;;

IGNIS X PROMPTO :

Who is more likely to hurt the other?

Not on purpose, mind you, but Ignis would absolutely hurt Prompto more. Ignis is similar to Gladio, in that he's the blunt 'reminder of reality,' which can, oftentimes, come across as uncaring and harsh. He wouldn't MEAN to hurt Prompto, but there are a lot of times he may unintentionally shoot down that sunshiny demeanor and cast a cloud over it, and there would be many more occasions where he would have to put Noctis first and, to some extent, neglect Prompto. It's a lot of the reason why Ignis is so hesitant to get into a relationship; Noctis comes first, no matter what, and in past romantic pursuits, this HAS raised several issues.

Who is emotionally stronger?

Ignis. You have to be as advisor to the future king. In fact, Ignis struggles to show emotion, in general, because he's been taught, in a way, that weakness and vulnerability impose upon his ability to do his job.

Who is physically stronger?

Ignis. Prompto is definitely strong in his own right, but Ignis was trained since he was a little kid to prepare him for his role as the heir apparent's advisor. There aren't many who can trump him in a fight,

Who is more likely to break a bone? 

Prompto, haha. Dude is, without a doubt, more accident prone than Ignis.

Who knows best what to say to upset the other? 

I think this is where Prompto would shine. Ignis approaches most situations with logic, whereas Prompto feels with his heart more than his head. Logic is great in some situations, but not all; sometimes, someone may just need a hug, or the right words to pick themselves back up and press on, and Prompto has always been the 'optimistic sunshine' of the group.

Who is most likely to apologize first after an argument? 

I'd say both! Neither of them wants to do wrong, and they're mature enough to realize when they have.

Who treats who’s wounds more often? 

Ignis treats Prompto's wounds. He's the healer of the group for a reason.

Who is in constant need of comfort? 

Prompto. Ignis doesn't seek it; he was trained to handle matters on his own without seeking comfort but Prompto (especially after THAT PART OF THE GAME) needs more validation.

Who gets more jealous? 

Prompto. He's shown to have more doubts than Ignis, and worries about his place in both their group and the world itself, so I can see those uncertainties rearing their ugly head in certain moments.

Who’s most likely to walk out on the other? 

I dunno, this one is tough. I think Ignis would probably up and leave first? I feel like Prompto would be the one who would fight for their relationship more, and Ignis would just deem it easier to call it quits if Prompto is the unhappy one.

Who will propose? 

I could see either of them doing it! Or... WANTING to do it, but I think Prompto would seize the opportunity before Ignis.

Who has the most difficult parents?

Canon wise, Prompto, the poor guy. :/ Even outside of the LITTLE we got in regards to Ignis' family, Verstael was... UGH. If we're talkin' my personal backstory for Ignis, then Prompto still takes the crown, but Ignis does become somewhat of a decent contender.

Who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 

100% Prompto. He's definitely going to end up being the more affectionate one between the two of them, even after they've been together for years and years and years. Ignis just tends to be more private and reserved, especially in public, but as he gets more comfortable with the relationship, he'll return Prompto's affections more and more frequently, and initiate it more, too.

Who hogs the blankets? 

Prompto, haha. Ignis is the most orderly, unmoving sleeper in the world. He'd let it happen, too.

Who gets more sad? 

Prompto. Ignis definitely gets sad, but he swallows it down like it's soup and puts on a stone mask. Prompto feels a lot more than Ignis does.

Who is better at cheering the other up? 

Prompto. Mr. Ball of Sunshine right there~

Who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?

Oh my gosh, 100% Prompto. If Ignis EVER did something like that, the world itself would end.

Who is more streetwise?

Prompto, just from experience alone. Ignis was raised in a very strict, culturally limited bubble, so his 'street smarts' are a bit... lacking.

Who is more wise?

Ignis! Has to be. Ya don't get to be the Advisor of the Heir Apparent without being INSANELY wise.

Who’s the shyest? 

Prompto. Ignis isn't 'shy,' he's just a bit... socially awkward.

Who boasts about the other more? 

Prompto. He seems like the type to put Ignis on an unnecessary pedestal.

Who sits on whose lap? 

Prompto is the lap sitter, and Ignis welcomes it. :)

@madeimpact ;;

#madeimpact #[ // gently cradles promnis #I ADORE THEEEEEEEEEEEM QA Q THE DEFINITION OF 'OPPOSITES ATTRACT SOULMATES' #thank you for this hun!! <3 ] #muse ;; IGNIS ( ANSWERED ASK ) #muse ;; IGNIS ( ♥ PROMPTO . MADEIMPACT ) #muse ;; IGNIS ( ♥ SHIP . PROMNIS )

[philistiniphagottini]

For your smut prompt list, could I perhaps get 14. Choking w Vergil? You can also throw in anything else you want in there if you feel like it, have fun w it :3 💗

Oh my god Anon I love you so, so much, thank you for enabling me to write for devil may cry again. I didn't realise how much I needed this, I think I literally started vibrating as soon as this popped into my inbox. Thanks for the request, hope you enjoy~

14. Choking

Smut Prompts

cw. smut, penetrative sex, choking, fem! reader

"Vergil."

His name slipped from your kiss swollen lips in a breathless whisper. You could taste the desire in the back of your throat as you swallowed thickly, a pleasant shiver racing down your back as heat curled in the pit of your stomach. Another breathy moan of his name lay heavy on your tongue, eyelashes fluttering over your burning cheeks and threatening to slip close as you moved in tandem beneath him. Your bodies were joined in fervid rapture, the bedframe shaking as you trembled with it, your eyes glazed as you stared up your lover in a daze.

His usual slicked back hair was damp with sweat, wisps of snow-white hair clinging to his forehead and hanging low over his eyes. The usual crease in his brow ever present as he concentrated, rutting his hips forward as his deliciously thick cock parted your creamy folds with such dizzying ease it made your head spin. The coil in the pit of your stomach twisted tighter as you heard your name uttered from his bruised lips, sending your mind into a tizzy as your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Your toes curled into the soles of your feet as you dug your heels into the beautiful dip of his back, coaxing him deeper as your greedy hole tried to swallow him whole. His breathing stuttered for a brief second as your drooling pussy clenched around him, your plush walls pulsing and massaging his throbbing dick. A low grunt stirred in the back of his throat as he dug his fingers tighter into the bed sheets beside your head, threatening to tear the silken fabric asunder if he showed even an ounce of his true strength.

"Vergil" you called again.

His attention snapped back to you as your shaky hands reached for his, your fingers curling around his wrist and tugging it from between the sheets. He watched you with a tilt of his head, curious blue eyes tracing your slow movements as you dragged the palm of his hand over your body. Your skin was searing beneath his touch as the tips of his fingers traced over the soft pudge of your stomach, moving higher to tickle your ribs before dipping between the valley of your supple breasts until his hand finally came to rest at the column of your throat. He could feel your pulse flutter wildly beneath the press of his hand, your blood boiling hotly in your veins as you squeezed his wrist between your small hands, looking up at him with silent, pleading eyes. A soft sigh fell from his lips as he moved his hand higher along your throat, your head tipping back and allowing him more access to your skin.

"Is this what you wanted?" he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice as the palm of his hand lay heavy against your neck.

You nodded, squeezing his arm again as your skin continued to burn with the intensity of a raging inferno, a stark contrast to the cool touch of his hand. The pressure in your stomach intensified as the piston of Vergil’s hips increased, your bones feeling like they were going to turn to dust from the friction alone. You choked on a ragged gasp of air as the fingers around your throat tightened, slowly squeezing the air from your lungs. A broken hum rumbled in your chest, your nails scratching at his skin like a content cat as your head started to get fuzzy, the feeling if his pubic bone pressing into your poor, neglected clit making your mind reach for the stars. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears like the loud beat of a drum as it lodged itself in your throat, lungs pinching in your chest as you were deprived of more oxygen. A blissful expression lit up your features even as a blood vessel in your head threatened to burst, the knot in the pit of your stomach tangling tighter and tighter until it felt like something inside of you was going to break.

Vergil watched your expression carefully, the giddy smile on your face stirring something warm in his chest as your own pleasure only served to push his own higher and higher with an intense, burning need. You might be called foolish for placing your trust in a devil like him, your heart beating beneath the firm grip of his hand. One simple twist of his wrist and he could crush your windpipe without even really having to try. Perhaps that was why you liked this so much; the tantalising danger of knowing that his strength could easily overwhelm you if he didn’t show any semblance of restraint. His jaw tensed, a hiss of air whistling through his clenched teeth as your soused walls clenched tighter around his cock. He could feel the tip of his cock throbbing against the soft, gummy patch deep inside you that made stars waver in your vision. He felt your hands slowly loose their grip around his wrist as he continued to pound you into the mattress, your eyes slowly rolling to the back of your head as you struggled to stay conscious. In that moment, he let go when your encroaching orgasm finally caught up to you.

You could swear you were about to pass out as the constricting feeling around your throat was released and the coil in your stomach shattered into a million pieces. Broken noises crawled up your throat as you writhed beneath Vergil, every frayed, white hot nerve overloading as you gulped down heavy gasps of air while your world exploded around you. The rapturous feeling was almost indescribable. Vergil cursed something foul under his breath as your slick juices coated his cock, making it easier for him to bury himself to the hilt as the pressure inside of him abruptly snapped. The push of his hips went still, your pussy squeezing him impossibly tight as his viscous seed coated your insides with heavy ropes of white. A growl rumbled in his chest, forehead pressed into your shoulder as his sharp teeth grazed your skin, scraping your searing skin as your abdomen tingled with warmth.

Pearls of his cum overflowed from your overstimulated mound, dripping down your quaking thighs in thick rivulets as he parted from you with a wet pop. His hands came to rest at your sides as you lazily tangled your fingers in his hair, brushing the damp bangs from his forehead as you slowly regained control of your breathing. Your senses were slow to crawl back to you, white spots stilling dotting the corners of your vision as your heart continued to race. Vergil’s breath was warm against your cheek as he dragged his lips along your jawline, trailing butterfly kisses along your skin until your heart nestled back into your chest.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Head is fuzzy" you admitted, your voice coming out in a low rasp.

You felt completely weak yet utterly satisfied beneath him, muscles becoming completely lax as you sank further into the comfortable confines of the sheets. You wanted to hold onto him just for a little while longer, scratching your nails along the lean muscles in his physique and simply enjoying basking in his presence.

#my writing #request #devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #devil may cry smut #vergil x reader #x reader #fem!reader

[ryusukeswife]

A SOULMATE WHO WASN’T MEANT TO BE

— [ mikey x gn! reader ]

summary . being in love with manjirou sano was both a blessing and a curse. you haven’t spoken to him in over a decade since the two of you broke things off as teenagers. now, as an adult, you’re watching the news of the death of a young woman ; you recall all the memories you buried so deeply.

content . hurt with no comfort, mentions of death, mentions of breakups, the reader calls mikey a “criminal” at one point. to be honest, it was a breakup that was never resolved ; no happy endings here.

authors note . here’s it is— my debut story! i hope you all enjoy it! reminder that my inbox is open!

Days swept by with no sunshine in the sky ; quite literally like the skies were taking pity on our misery. Granted, it was April. It was almost every single day where I can hear children chanting :“April showers being May flowers!” at the top of their lungs.

I smile contemptibly, knowing that the dreadful rain will soon bring life to unsprouted blossoms that nestle their own homes in the soil, awaiting for the showers of what all of us call “the damn rain”.

Today was another gloomy day— almost like the day before, and probably the day before that as well. I turned on the TV to see a news broadcaster recapping the events of a tragedy that took place the night before. A young woman ; Hinata Tachibana, 26 years old and an elementary school teacher, caught in a collision between her vehicle and a hostile truck.

People were quick to point fingers at who would’ve done such a thing to the poor, young girl. Somehow, the blame would always fall on one person ; Manjirou Sano of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

The news broadcasters voice became all but grainy to me as I started to think back on my early childhood— the cup of hot coffee on the counter practically neglected as the steam seeped out from the top of it. Mikey ; the boy with the beaming smile who would cut off his own arm for a person in need, a boy who was so misunderstood that it was almost unfair to me, and the one person who I learned to understand until I just didn’t anymore.

“Y/n! Why so serious, all of a sudden?” Mikey would ask whenever I would try to dial down his notches— for he was as enthusiastic as one could be.

“I’m telling you ; dressing up as robbers and stealing kids meals from that place you like is a stupid idea.” Admittedly so, I was quite a pessimist. In a way, Mikey was always shining light on every bad situation— so much so, that it was envious. Sometimes I would even ponder why or even how he was able to do it without breaking down.

We did not rob the fast food joint that day. Instead, we made up a compromise and explored an abandoned warehouse near Takeshita Street. Somehow, it was always that warehouse that we would come back to when we would spend time together. “Our very own sanctuary” as he would call it.

He never told Draken about it, nor did he tell any of the other members of his hooligan gang about it either. It was strange, since he never really kept discoveries like that secrets from the ones he cares about. In a way, it really was our own ; what we made of it.

The Bloody Halloween Incident of 2005 shaped the way I would view him for the rest of my days. I could not tell you what initially went down on the day that Mikey crumbled before his own, true happiness— but how he molded as an individual was something truly horrific.

Mikey ; the boy who’s smile was so big and bright that the sun in the sky would stare with envious eyes, the boy who would leave nobody behind, and the leader who marched his soldiers right into battle with such fairness. He walked away from me forever that day.

Then came the day that I told him to meet me in “our sanctuary”, to which he complied.

“I don’t want to see you ever again.” There was no light way to put it, for I was already in excruciating mental pain.

I still remember the way his eyes broadened with confusion, but in a way that would hint that he expected such a statement from me.

“You’re lying to me,” he said, “this is a joke. There’s no way in hell you would actually do this to me, right?” His words came across as statements rather than questions.

“I mean it, Mikey.” At that moment, all of Manjirou’s hope for me staying by his side shattered like glass. He walked up to me and placed his— what seemed to be— shaking hands on my tense shoulders, a composed smile on his face ; that was not the same smile.

“You can’t, y/n. You can’t!” His words were as low as a whisper, but then became as loud as a shout ; his voice bouncing off the walls of the warehouse. “I…I can’t lose another person dear to me, y/n. You need to stay. If there’s one person who stays by my side, it has to be you.”

“Hate me, then. At this point, I’m not fucking asking— I’m begging you to hate me, at this point in time,” my own voice started to crumble like rocks, “I know you’re hurting, I know. If I could ever change the way you see yourself, I would do it in a heartbeat— it pisses me off that you’re so great and I could never compare to that, and here I am, leaving you like this!”

Mikey shook my shoulders with his hand. “Don’t, then! Like hell could I ever hate you! Quit saying all of these shitty things! I promise you— I promise I will change and fix everything ; fix everything back like it once was … just give me—”

“— it’s not fixable ; you know that, Mikey.” I could not restrain the tears that let themselves loose on my cheeks. Staring at him felt like torture. “Baji is dead! You think that you can magically bring him back to life and rebuild Toman— which you had already destructed before this whole thing went down?!” My body started to tremble, my throat started to get sore.

“Do not bring Baji into this, y/n! There wasn’t anything that anyone could do for him!” Mikey seemingly regretted his statement in an instant.

“I need to bring him into this! It’s bad enough that you’re starting to push everyone away from you— push everyone that ever loved and cared about you away! How the hell am I supposed to be by your side if you won’t let me?!” Both of our voices jumped from wall to wall as we shouted back in forth in each other’s faces.

Mikey fell to his knees, his arms falling around my waist. “Dammit, y/n..” he murmured, his grasp holding my possessively, almost incompetent of letting me go.

“I love you, y/n. I love you so much, y/n. Please don’t leave me here like this. Please, god, don’t make this sight of me the last one you see.” He was pleading by my legs like a pew, his knees going weak against the floor.

“Oh Mikey,” I moved my hands down to his blonde hair to make small, consoling strokes— the last time I would ever touch him in such a way— “I hope that some day you’ll thank me for this. That’s why I’m asking you to hate me ; hate me as a person who has caused you pain. Don’t love me as someone who is allowing you to be in pain.”

We parted ways. I never saw him again after that day. My mother called me up during my university days to boast about how my “childhood friend” committed such a terrible crime and how I “dodged a bullet” for refusing to speak with him again.

“He was a criminal. I’m glad I left him behind as well.” I would laugh it off as a joke and act like I never loved him one bit.

But that will never cover up the truth. For I loved Manjirou Sano with all of my heart, and that’s why I left him that day.

But by some miracle that I hoped would never occur, the love I had for him stayed all those years later — when he was officially too far gone to be changed.

“That concludes our broadcast tonight. Tune in this afternoon for our local weather report!”

#tokyo revengers #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x reader #writeblr #anime x reader #anime #tokyorev

[pictuajjx]

Sun HC!!! (Part one)

NOTES

🫧🐟📝Hi hello! Welcome aboard!! So yeah, I know I was going to make a headcanon version of LJ but I couldn’t resist making headcanons for the DCA (daycare attendance)!! So yeah, here it is. Some won’t (?) make sense due to me changing the story, but hope that’s fine :3 and yeah, these are just mainly in general hcs, but also random and interaction stuff, btw if your looking for more just ask me in my inbox! This post is also going to be separated by DCA’s!! So this is part one. ~ Debvin!

Warnings?

Spoooooilers?? Maybe? Idk. Also, it’s going to be a pretty long post.

Sun

(hugh jumpscare)

In General???

Okay, just to get this straight, all of their heights are at 7 ft tall. Why? Because I said so.

Because of his height, he’s like really lanky. I mean all of them are so.. not much of a difference.

His name is Sun, just Sun, NOT Sundrop. He doesn’t really mind it if your calling him the candy name, same goes for the others. He actually kinda finds it amusing. The candy name is to just not get him and the others get mixed up with the ACTUAL sun and moon.

Based off the game little battery system, I’m assuming same thing goes for Sun that he has to charge… again, for others as well.

Except, you know how he has to be ON and Moon cannot? And you know how he’s the ONLY ONE taking care of the loud ass kids at the daycare?

Yeah, this POOR ROBOT IS TIRED. He’s also technically dying a bit and getting his energy drained.

He sometimes snaps at kids, acts fucking insane but tries to act cheerfully.

Sun is trying his best to be happy go lucky, I swear he’s really trying.

Actually growls. Not the seductive growl your expecting (sorry Sun simps), but the “GRRRRR RAGHHHHHAYAY RUFF RUFURFU SNARL, SNRAL” rabies dog growl. He does this when he’s stressed.

Sometimes when he’s stressed he curls up into a ball and rocks back n forth at a corner. I don’t even know how I came up with this one.

PULLS stuff out of nowhere, always comically large.

His little sunrays shifts a lot depending on his emotion and feeling.

The only music he has listened to is his daycare music. Nothing else. Would love it if you introduced him to something else though.

A lot of the employees neglect him.

With Kids

Plays with the kids a lot, I mean I don’t know what your expecting he’s the only one that plays with them.

Because it’s little kids they’re going to be dirty.

Sun despises that but tries his best to clean up.

Most of the time kids are afraid of him. (His canon version, but in my hc version they aren’t due to my design change.)

Has scribbles, stains, and handprints all over him.

As much as Sun tries to clean himself after the terrible incident of kids rubbing disgusting things on him, he eventually gave up and went insane.

Not too insane, but clean freak insane. (Clean freak but doesn’t even clean his own room).

References a lot of theatre stuff to the kids, they don’t understand him at all.

With Moon (before corrupted)

FUCKING LOVED HIM BUT ALSO HATED HIM.

In a platonic way ofc, I hc all three of them as brothers.

Appreciated his entire being because that means he can go to resting mode and build up his energy for the next day.

Also didn’t appreciate him at the same time because he says unnecessary stuff to him in their little mindset (which I will explain how that works in another post).

Ohhh, if he could have his brother in a separate body he would hug him then go world-star on him by beating the absolute shit of out of him.

Whenever it was time for Sun to take turn, his body is just covered in stacks of blankets that causes him to overheat a lot.

With Moon (after corrupted)

Missed him a lot, didn’t realize how much he wanted his brother back.

Because he had to stay in light all times, he wasn’t able to transform back into his brothers body anymore due to how dangerous he was.

Because they are programmed into the same body, Sun’s programming was also slowly getting a virus and corrupted.

When everybody else is gone, sometimes he finds somewhere dark, but not TOO dark to plug a nightlight that his brothers face on there.

The purpose of this was to let his corrupted brother see what’s going on, but because it’s not fully dark he isn’t in control and is slowly getting hurt from the light.

Corrupted moon thinks Sun is damaging him on purpose, when Sun just wants to show how much he misses his brother.

Corrupted moon somehow doesn’t have access to the mindset space, so Sun and Eclipse can think freely without him.

Angst hehe

With Eclipse

Doesn’t actually interact with him that much.

Sun kinda wishes he was more like Eclipse, because he’s much more calm and nicer than he is.

Kinda is jealous of him in a way??

I’ve been there Sun, being jealous of your sibling for doing sm better ☹️

Talks to him in mindset space but Moon always butts in and interrupts.

The only person that was there for him when he was going insane.. ☠️

Wished he got to talk more with Eclipse, but their interactions varied little.

OKAY THATS ALL FOR PART ONE!!! Will probably post another part tmrw :3 Next one will be Moon (reblogs appreciated!!)

#clown #clowncore #headcanon #fnaf 2 #fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #five nights at freddy's security breach #fivenightsatfreddyssecuritybreach #five nights at freddy's #security breach #sundrop #fnaf sundrop #fnaf ruin #fnaf headcanons #fnaf hcs

[ms-m-astrologer]

Hello Ms M! I have a friend who is just beginning to look into this kind of thing and wanted some book titles to borrow from the library. Are there any books you'd recommend for a beginner? Apologies if you've answered this before!

Thank you for the ask! My poor neglected inbox is grateful.

I indeed have written a post about books, which I reblog every February 15, June 15, and October 15. (All Air signs. I thought that would help boost it and be good for my intent.) Here's the link. Blessings, XOXOXO

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[edgepunk]

does it count as enabling if i pop in your inbox and directly ask you to rant about ir*ndad

thank you nonny for taking the bullet cause this is gonna be long 🫡

I've ranted about ir*ndad a few times, but I simply despise it. Going through the Peter Parker tag on ao3 is a goddamn minefield even after I filter out any MCU related tags. I accidentally stumbled upon really shite ir*ndad fics bc they weren't properly tagged and I was exposed to the horrors against my will. However, there are a few ir*ndad fics I actually enjoyed, because the writers actually understood the characters and took a lot of pointers from the comics. But there are very few of them unfortunately, you'd have to dig deep to find them.

Anyway, let me make a list of things that bother me about ir*ndad:

Peter's characterization - now, y'all know I'm not a big fan of MCU Peter, but I know damn well he is not a toddler trapped in a teenager's (now adult) body. Peter is very reckless, chaotic and wants to do most things on his own. He isn't yelling "Mr. Stark help!!!" every two seconds. He can and wants to handle things on his own, he is a teen in HOCO and FFH, after all. Teenagers want to prove their worth without any help, so does Peter.

He is not a useless bland uwu softboy that conveniently forgets he has superpowers lmao. Peter is sassy and can be rude. If your Peter Parker can't be a cunt, then that's not Peter Parker. ir*ndad fans turn him into a toddler. There's no way around it, he's a toddler that can't do anything without their pwecious Tony who's the best, biggest hero and who handles everything for Peter, because Peter is a baby who can't do anything on his own. It's not like he can easily lift cars and is very intelligent. No, he's a useless poor baby who can do no wrong. /s

I have to shorten this, so here's a speedrun of things about ir*ndad that I despise:

The writers claim to love Peter, but most of those whump stories where Peter gets tortured and traumatized are about Tony. It's only about Tony's feelings, Peter is there for torture porn and to cause Tony's manpain.

The assassination of May's character - the misogyny is really showing with this one, they turn her into an abuser and neglectful parental figure in almost every fic (tbf she was done dirty by the MCU, not gonna lie)

Racism - shows usually the way they handle Flash Thompson. It's bad. It's very bad.

Their racism is showing with how they treat and (mis)characterize Ned and MJ. Nooo they're not Peter's friends, they're mean and they're gonna abandon him bc he's a superhero. /s

They turn Tony into a creepy, full on stalker??? They think it's cute and wholesome that he gave Peter (reiterating that he's a teen in the MCU) a phone and laptop that's hooked up with trackers, so he can know where he is at all times? Ew? (ig he did that with his Spider-Man suit in HOCO. still creepy.)

As much as they try to deny it, their fics come off as ship fics between Peter and Tony. Why on Earth would a 16/17 year old cuddle with a grown-ass man??? Peter didn't do that with Ben as a preteen/teen, why would he do that with Tony lol ??? It's not just cuddling Tony is giving him kisses jeakejksjhajkhsjhdnd

Cont. of the previous point, there is nothing wrong with Peter x Tony, as long as it's not the MCU version/Peter is a minor. If it's the comics or video game version, then fine, go for it. Peter's been an adult for decades, but just,,, write that instead of trying to chalk this up as a "wholesome father/son relationship".

ummm that's all. thank you for enabling me nonny and sorry for the long rant I Simply Have Thoughts

#ask #Anonymous

[theslowpath]

How about 💛 and 🖤?

well hello! it seems ive been neglecting tyler's tumblr inbox... silly me. anyways, on to the questions! allon-sy!

💛 yellow ― how did you and s/i meet?

oh, i love this one: funny story actually, the one evening i leave my tardis unlocked for, what was it? five minutes? to pick up some coffee and come right back, this young man comes in in search of a quiet place to gather himself during a panic attack, and, get this, didnt even notice it wasnt a regular police box! his eyes were squeezed shut when he came in, and of course he turned his back to the rest of the room when he closed the doors. the poor thing was knelt to the ground, covering his ears and crying, rocking back and fourth. i have to admit, it caught me a little off-guard. he looked up at me, all teary-eyed, and i felt both my hearts breaking. after helping him to calm down he told me his name was tyler, and that he had just run away from home. he still hasn't told me the whole story of what happened with him and his family, but i can only assume it was a horrible life for him, from the bits and pieces i have heard. we're both much happier now that we have each other.

🖤 black ― tell us about your favorite memory with s/i?

well, gee, this might take a while. there's just so many! hmmm... well... for starters... i often find myself returning to the time we spent a whole day marathoning our favorite films... except for every one we travelled to the year it came out and saw it in theaters on opening night! it was an incredible experience. we learned a lot about each other from the movies that mean the most to us. tyler is very passionate about cinema, it felt like seeing a new side to him. a side i feel really special to have seen, because he's usually quite nonchalant about everything.

#my post #ask #self ship #self shipping #self shipper #oc x canon #f/o takeover #prof/ovember #profovember

[chordsykat]

Is there going to be a Dethkomic Issue 9? Please?

HELLO my poor, neglected inbox. Let's answer some mail, shall we?

Starting with this anon - a question I've been getting a lot more, lately. But if you're not on my Discord where I don't shut up about it, then how would you know?

Anywho, the answer is yes! But not right away. Dethkomic #9 - 12 will be part of the Dethkomic III series, which will start next year. In the meantime, expect some Dethkomic Drabbles and one-shot comic stories while you wait. :)

#dethkomic #dethkomic 3 #answered

[ramcharantitties]

Hear me out: KGF rewrite but Rocky actually has more emotions than the rageful twelve year old boy that never really grew up. He cares viciously about his kingdom and it's not the gold that's the reason. It is because these are his people, the people of poverty who were neglected by an entire country, left to be slaved by cruel greedy men.

They gave us all of two throwaway scenes in KGF2 of him being a good king, of being one with his people and then never showed it again. Those two scenes had more potential and depth than the entire Rocky x Reena saga had

Just Rocky meeting Ramika Sen head on with righteous fury because India has no right to claim a place wrought with blood of it's neglect, land that belongs to the blood of the children that were killed on it. India failed those children. Rocky won't. And so his character grows. Because it slowly stops becoming about the gold he promised his mother, because obviously he had tonnes of it now. It becomes about the survivors of the hellscape and they become his gold.

i have some points for this okay- first of all thank u for dropping this in my inbox and i really appreciate your opinion. Please send more!

now, I understand the enraged 12 year old but i dont think that he never grew up. Let's take a lil walk on his conditions in his developing years- mom died early after instilling a dream, grew up fighting for food and a place to sleep. He was considered under shetty's foot and shetty had to keep rocky under him because shetty knew how ruthless and alpha this guy is. Single handedly fighting the whole wide world, he became a sarcastic little bitch. Rocky is street smart, he's brave, he wants to do things everyone is terrified to do because he wants to be the "one and only", as he defines himself. Loneliness makes people have god complex.

Rocky cared about his kgf. And the people. He made a poor slum, people working in shit conditions into a well constructed state. Towers and houses and factories and uniforms and machineries. The people of kgf considered him a god for the basic necessities he provided them with- food, clothes, houses, medicines. Because when you are dragged from your warm home in coldness of lands wretched with blood of innocence, a warm meal and fabric enough to cover your body feels like a blessing. But in my opinion, rocky cared for the people also because he could kill garuda. So that people wanted to work for him in the mine. When the mass was scared to enter the mine, he himself lead the people there and worked with them. So that his work wouldn't stop.

They could have easily given more king rocky scenes of course, but the fact he was greedy might have faded. That man confessed being greedy, it's not my addition: "greed is good! greed is progress!". Like you said- he did it all for the promise he made to his mother, but he had tons of gold now and he should have kept the place running for the sake of people of narachi.

but rocky already made a plan- to get all the gold of centuries out in 2 years. It was narrated in the meeting when rocky blasted the rest all mines, employing work in them. Rocky became the king for himself. Because he wanted to be top of the world, not because his care and concern. In the end, he did share the hatred towards the rich misleading folks.

This was the original story that we saw and my opinion on it. rocky died/disappeared before his character developed. The best irony that i found in this story was- his goal was given by a woman, his weakness became a woman, and he died because of a woman. Probably if he didn't die, he would have became the character you wanted him to be.

But maybe not- he was just making people work for him without violating the basic human need. Rocky always kept his promise and revenge for unfair practices he faced before his conscience. If Rocky was such a good man, he would have let the people go at the beginning only. But keeping them for extraction was his greed and goal that came with the responsibility of being the king- they lived in the houses built for them after kgf closed down.

I could be wrong, this is just my take on kgf and his character. Feel free to add your point!

#kgf actor #kgf #kgf 1 #kgf yash #kgf 2 #rocky bhai #rocky #raja krishnappa bairya #ghungru #sita answers

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school