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rafescurtainbangz · 2 months

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omg omg I'm thinking about how zach would be a clingy boyfriend, and not the irritating kind, the absolutely sweet, adorable kind 🥹🥹 okay so walk w me kel I'll expand more on this (I just had some icecream and I'm hyped as fuck the sugar gets to me like a child 💀)

definitely won't be able to let you go in the morning. as you get out of bed he'll instantly wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back in, and his eyes will be closed but he'll just start kissing the back of your neck softly, murmuring something about 'five more minutes' over and over again

wants you to be in the kitchen all the damn time when he's cooking, cause he needs you to sit on the countertop as he cooks, or keep your arms around his waist and press your face in his bare (hahahaha I'm dead actually) back

you're just getting ready for a girls' night out but he's had a not so good day so he'll just trod over to you and hug you tightly and ask you if you can miss girls night, and he hates to ask you to do that but all he needs is your comfort, and you can't say to that puppy dog look you just can't 😭😭😭 plus he sounds so sad all you want is to comfort him and make him feel better

^^ more on this; you'll then change to some comfy hoodie of his and then make a massive snack tray for both of you to eat and you let him talk and vent about it all

you and him after a match!!! this can go two ways: first one is when his team wins and you can't help but just kiss his pretty face all over and tell him how good and hot he looked while playing, and you both just retreat to one of your dorms and he just falls asleep cause he's so tired and he lets you play with his hair

if he lost!!!! you'll quickly wrap your arms around his neck and he'll wrap his around your waist and he'll hug you so tightly, and if the match is super important like some regionals or something he'll just need so much love and support from your side to make him feel better

^^ more on this; I defo think he's the type to blame himself when the team loses, now I don't know shit about soccer but he'll probably say stuff like if I wouldn't have missed that kick, or if I would have made that goal then we wouldn't have lost, and you'll just softly sigh and tell him it's not his fault!!! and you'll kiss him gently and tell him all is okay cause it's okay to lose but he'll be okay 🥺🥺

i don't see him as a party kinda guy tbh, you'll be at a frat party but he'll just get so bored so quick and just embrace you in a hug and gently murmur in your ear to get away from the party cause he's already damn tired and all he wants are your cuddles and kisses 😫😫😫😫

thank you for helping me through my random burst of energy bestie 😆🤭 if you ever feel like writing any of these please please feel free to!! 💗💗😁😁😁

Ahhhhhhhhhh @keziahcore I am obsessed with our perfect boy. Just look at him 🥹

- I just know he has the softest, sweetest morning voice, with just the perfect amount of rasp. He sleeps without a shirt on, and he loves it when you sleep in your little sports bra or nothing at all because he loves feeling your warm soft skin against his. Skin-to-skin contact is so important to him.

- He loves having you in the kitchen too because you are his DJ, flipping between your favorite songs while he unwinds and cooks for the two of you. He loves hearing about your day, which he often asks you all about. The only time that Zach ever makes a mistake in the kitchen is when he gets a little too into your stories, eating up the drama. He also likes that you’re willing to taste test everything for him, he doesn’t even have to ask, he just leans close with the spoon and waits for your praise to follow. And the hugs from behind… he can get enough feral he loves the way your cheek rests on the sway of his spine like that spot was reserved just for you.

- Zach never has been days, truly they are few and far between. He is always looking out for you, anticipating your needs, and making sure that you feel comfortable and loved it wasn’t even a question if you were going to call of the girls night or not.

- The second you call it off he’s behind you with a pair of his sweats and a sweatshirt for you to wear, which you happily accept just knowing he’ll let you keep it. And, he smells so good, his comfy clothes sprayed with his Tod Ford cologne (something woodsy and warm - fougere oud).

And, it’s not that Zach is a jealous guy, he has nothing to worry about when it comes to you and other guys, but he gets jealous of the time that’s taken from the two of you as a couple. Your little Girl’s Night dress would make the perfect date night attire and all he can think about the night lost. He makes sure to let you know how pretty you look as he unzips the back, telling you that you should hang it up so the two of you can go out to that little French Restaurant by campus tomorrow night.

The two of you will pick some romcom, snacking on Charcuterie arranged by Zach. He’ll take his turn feeding you his hot gossip, finally letting you know what happened in the day that really got to him.

- After a win, Zach likes to unwind with you. Sometimes the two of you make it out to the bar but usually, the two of you spend the night at his place or yours, wrapped up in each other as you watch the local news, waiting for them to talk about the local sports and the university’s all-star Zach MacLaren. He’ll be pink-cheeked as you tease him about what a hottie he is, doing his best to fight back his wide smile. “Cheers” usually comes on afterward, but Zach doesn’t usually last longer than the first ten minutes, falling asleep with his head in your lap after some head scratches and kisses, he’s out like a light. When the credits roll your eyes are usually shut as well, Zach, takes his turn caring for you, laying you in bed where he snuggles in close. Whispering ‘I love yous’ before turning out the bedside light.

- If he lost he wants to leave but you don’t go home… not right away at least. The two of you go on a long drive, listening to music until Zach is ready to talk again. He knows you don’t know near as much about soccer that he does, but that doesn't matter, he has his dad to talk “strategy” with him. But, he needs you to talk about everything else, the pressure he’s feeling, riffs with his teammates. He blames everything on himself. Everything. But, Zach MacLaren is pretty sure that you have the best advice, because you’re always looking out for him and you care for him like no one else. And the feeling is mutual.

- Zach is not much of a party guy, I mean the only reason he would have gone to the party in the first place is to find a girl and he already has his… you. What else does he need? The two of you will usually leave the frat party or the soccer party after the first thirty minutes, heading to the local college dive diner instead, draining coffee and sharing pie and ice cream between kisses.

Hehehehehhehe i might need to write more on these I love my baby boy

#drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren #the other zoey #zach maclaren fluff #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x female reader #drew Starkey #drew starkey fic #rafe Cameron #soft rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff

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jinkookspencil · 1 year

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stay | jjk

jungkook is drunk out of his mind, belting pop ballads in the middle of the night.... you had to check in on him

description/tw/tags: ~4k words / jungkook x (f) reader / one-shot / angst and fluff / friends to lovers / inspired by jungkook's recent lives!! i just had to :') / includes drunk, flirty jungkook and mentions of alcohol and drinking / oc stays sober / jungkook gets so drunk thinks he's having a steamy dream with oc gone wrong / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated!! it's been a while since anyone really told me their honest thoughts on my fics 💗

Celine Dion’s voice blasting through your phone was not what you expected when you got a call from Jungkook, but it was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. It was an odd thing, you realized. Jungkook never had never admitted to listening to Celine Dion, Taylor Swift, Adele, or any other musical queen you adored - he never protested when you blasted their songs through the car radio or when you belted out their songs during karaoke nights, but he never, ever sang along or reacted much either…. except for when he was drunk… except for when he was too drunk. And it was only ever when he was drunk and alone or drunk and with you. In front of his friends or to you when he was sober, he still pretended he couldn't name a Celine Dion song besides "the Titanic one." But you knew better. Between her iconic vocals through the phone, you could hear Bam’s dog collar jingling, Jungkook’s all over the place but still excellent singing and humming, and finally… sniffles. In the blink of an eye, you were in a cab on your way to his place, not hanging up and listening to him sing “My Heart Will Go On” and "All By Myself" over and over until you got there. Right at the brief moment of silence when the song ended, you knocked on the door, extra loudly and in your signature pattern, so he’d know it was you - but it seemed to only signal Bam, who obviously knew it was you before Jungkook did, jumping up and down even before his owner opened the door in confusion.

“Bamie-,” you giggle against the dog’s nose while he licks yours, Jungkook still disoriented when you look up at him.

“H-hiiiiii,” he forces a smile on his face after realizing you were actually there. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard Celine Dion, so I came,” you say, ruffling Jungkook’s long hair and plopping down on his living room couch. He’s still standing by the door, trying to realize the situation. “You must’ve drunk-called me while trying to choose a song, idiot. Or maybe you were trying to call someone else.” You push away the thought. “Anyways, I’m here to make sure you’re okay. And to see the secret Taylor Swift setlist later.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh. I actually called you….” Jungkook nods, trying to remember if he did while you figure out what he meant. He chuckles, clicking his tongue before offering you the gigantic, half-filled stein in his hand. “Do you want some beer?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything crazy, Koo. Don’t make me a problem, too.”

Jungkook holds back a smile while grabbing a second microphone and dramatically turning around, his long hair twirling behind him. “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me.”

“Oh god, Jungkook,” you shake your head backwards. Were your persistent efforts at trying to get him to listen to Taylor Swift worth it if he was going to make such cheesy jokes? When you look up and see his scrunched-up nose and proud smirk, you have your answer. It was.

“Nah, I’m not done with my girl Cel-Celine Dion. You know, she’s a very good singer.” It’s only now, when Jungkook says the most obvious statement, do you notice how slurred his voice is. “I still haven't done these songs, yet. ‘The Power of Love' and 'It's All Coming Back To Me' - my… my drinking songs, join and let's GO!”

You watch Jungkook pace around his living room, belting out the song while holding his beer glass with an iron grip, and you can’t help but think about the floppy-haired boy in front of you rather than the not-so-careful steps and chugs he took mid-song, ignoring the mic in your hand. You could never count the days and nights you spent with Jungkook. It all started with the ‘Netflix and Chill’ nights. When he suggested it, you’d panicked until he insisted he meant actually chilling and watching Netflix - and whether it was cuddly, commentary-filled K-drama sessions or drunken fried chicken and reality show nights, you enjoyed every minute of it…. but more so when those nights evolved. As cute as though nights may be, they were topped. The caring, vulnerable nights where you’d slowly unravel a new emotional layer of yourself to the other and the moon - with no one else in the know… those were the ones that destroyed you and put you together again, all at once. You doubted Jungkook even had a deeper side to him until you both laid yourselves out in front of one another - little by little and without judgment or fear. You dreamed of the days the unraveling happened physically as well. When you’d see him during the days, and whether it was just the two of you or with your friends, it seemed as though the sun had an inkling of the bond that formed while she was away, shining a little brighter every time you saw his face, casting her beautiful golden rays onto the boy that shined just as brightly.

A confession forever rested on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip out whenever he flashed his bunny-toothed smile, scrunched up his perfectly round nose, or jokingly teased you. And yet… you never could say anything…. especially since you think you already did. It’s the real reason you vowed never to drink with Jungkook again - you could barely remember anything but the fleeting feeling of his lips on your forehead, being in his arms, and waking up in the morning in your underwear to see him shirtless on the floor beside the bed you lay on. Jungkook’s bed, you later found out - after a party he threw. You mainly remember walking into the kitchen and seeing his roommate and bestie Taehyung preparing breakfast in silence, which only made the morning more unbearable, given his god-awful cooking skills. You fled in minutes and, to this day, had no recollection or idea of what actually happened. Jungkook never said anything either, so you were certain you dreamt the entire ordeal. He stayed relatively the same, save for a few arm grazes that shocked you to your core - a little more than they used to. You almost consider forcing him to watch a K-drama or a horror film - just for the cuddle he'd end up giving you.

But you were here, watching him passionately wrap up a ballad and wiping away a tear that formed in his eye. He was unbelievable.

“I didn’t think she could make you cry.”

“Yeah, well, she sang the Titanic song too, didn’t she? Don’t you know me?”

“I do, Koo,” you whisper into the microphone he had handed you.

“It’s all coming back to me too. It all ends when I'm with you. And my heart will go on, Celine... You get me, Celine,” he utters as he plops down beside you, his hand outstretched behind you as he selected a song, neglecting Bam by his legs.

“Bam wants attention.”

“He always gets my attention,” Jungkook says, eyes fixated on the TV in front of him.

“I’m gonna use that line on you the next time you give me the eyes he’s giving you now.” Jungkook was always a master at pouting and the classic puppy-dog eyes, and in the split second he looked confused, you begin to wonder if it was never intentional. But he quickly looks at his pet and babies him when catching the dog’s neediness, giving you the freedom to grab the remote and pick a song.

“Remember, only pop queens,” he insists in a baby-like voice, his eyes and hands still on Bam. And you found just that - a playlist of nothing but tracks from pop queens, most on your regular playlist. Meaning you knew almost every word, and so did Jungkook. Two hours of singing later, Jungkook’s honey voice and your scratchy one both grew tired. Music videos it’d be, you thought - still in total control of the remote. By the third music video, you were bored - you’d seen them all before, while Jungkook - or more specifically, drunk Jungkook - was mesmerized. And in a flash you neglected the screen altogether, staring instead at the boy right beside you. With your hand on your chin, you study him. You never could when he was sober - his eyes would immediately find yours, and one of two things would happen next: you’d look away in embarrassment, or he’d would pull a funny face. But this was different. He was focused, well, as much as a drunk person could be, softly humming along or murmuring something about the camerawork or costume design - you could barely hear whatever it was he said. Sure, his face looked puffy and drunken, even in his dimly lit apartment…. but he was beautiful. He was beautiful in his side profile, his stare and concentration, the fluffiness of his hair, and the gigantic, soft, muscled arm he flexed beside you. He had no idea just how beautiful he was—just being.

You must’ve been staring for too long because Jungkook turns, catching you - as he always did. You expected it and waited for him to stick out his tongue jokingly, scrunch up his nose, or wiggle his brows… something goofy. The last thing you expected was the softest smile that crept up on his face - the wonder in his eyes remaining, the way you’d been looking at him. And just like that, you look away again, thinking you’d be able to stick it out this time and ignore his presence entirely or make a funny face of your own. You want to frown, but the stinging in your cheeks hurts too much from smiling at him.

“What’s up with you?” he giggles for a very brief moment before repeating the question with that same damn smile on his face. In your periphery, you see him ruffle his hair and you dig your nails into your skin to stop you from reaching out and doing the same.

“Nothing,” you let out, feeling his gaze on you as you looked towards the screen and Bam sleeping just beneath it. A whole music video later, the feeling of his eyes on you grew unbearable. He didn’t even look away when he continued to drink from the glass in his hands.

“Find something better to do, Koo,” you say, folding your arms and mustering up the courage to look at him.

“Hmmm?” the drunken, dazed smile on his face was goofier and sweeter than ever.

“I want a glass of water,” you say, looking towards the fridge, hoping he’d be a good host and stand up to get you one, finally breaking his gaze in the process.

“Well, I want you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. As if you weren’t being tortured enough by his adorableness already... did the flirty side have to make an appearance? But it wasn't a surprise. Jungkook flirted all the time, definitely more than usual when he’s tipsy. It was so excruciating that you damn near scolded Jimin and Chan, the friends he’d picked up the flirting from. All you wanted to say was that you wanted him too, but he’d never mean it the way you did. The giggle he let out when you rolled your eyes proved it - he just liked seeing you all riled up.

“I’m thirsty, JK,” you whine, but he keeps giggling. “Yah, drunk boy - get me a glass of water,” you insist, poking his tattooed arm and letting your finger rest there - he winces between his little laughs, touching the skin and a little of yours.

“Jungkoooook. Don’t ignore me,” you pout.

You don’t know what it is, but something about those three words makes Jungkook jump up from his spot, his laughter fading quickly as he walked over to the fridge, covering his face with his hands.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t…,” he starts before clearing his throat. “Don’t poke me like that. I’m old and sore now. Your Jungkook works hard in the gym and can’t handle it like he used to.”

Your Jungkook. If only you could send him off on another errand to make you forget about him and those words for a moment. But, alas, you were in his apartment. He was too drunk. Bam was stirring in his sleep.

Jungkook returns a freshly filled stein for himself, a glass of water for you.... and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses on his face. The ones he only ever wore at home, during your late-night visits, that none of his friends ever saw. The ones that always fed your delusions of the domestic days with Jungkook you wished you could have for the rest of your life.

“Sure, you don’t want a sip?” A frozen glass swings into your line of vision, snapping you out of your daze.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“…..Shame…” he whispers into the glass as he chugged down half of its contents before setting it down and hiding his face in his arms, folded on the edge of the couch.

“Don’t judge me for not drinking. Just look at the state of you.”

“I’m not. It’s… it’s a shame that that’s what you’re the surest of. What happened to being sure of yourself, hmm?”

You weren’t in the mood for one of your deep talks, which was unusual for you. You usually would jump at any opportunity to talk to Jungkook, even when he was drunk - like the time he spat out a life lesson he learned in the third grade you’d never thought of in your entire life. He was the only person who ever made it safe enough for you to express your deepest fears and insecurities. His honest and supportive advice pushed you through. And you longed for the soft embrace he always gave you afterwards. It’s been weeks since you had one of those talks, days before the night/morning that was somewhere between a dream and a glitch in the matrix. But you couldn’t go there. You couldn’t bear to. Not tonight. Not with a drunk, floppy-haired, adorable, and out of-his-mind Jungkook that was adorable as ever, laying next to you singing pop ballads for hours. It’d have to wait.... even if he didn't want to.

“Tell me, what happened to being sure of yourself? Your thoughts, your ambition….your desires and feelings…” he slurs, waving his arm.

“I don’t know, Kookie,” you let out, grazing his arm. You can’t tell him that you’re sure you love him in more ways than one and that you’re not sure what to do about it.

“If you’re sure of something, act on it. If you’re not, still do it. Better to live with regrets with lessons learned than to never know,” he murmurs, his face resting on his elbow.

“So, can I commit a crime then?” you try to joke and change the mood.

“If you want to, sure. Oh, wait, don't. You've already committed one. I almost forgot," he nods, taking another sip of his beer. "You stole my heart."

"Fuck off," you laugh, reaching out to pinch his thigh instead of the arm he told you to avoid... "We'll talk about this another time, Kookie. Give me actual advice then."

"Okay, but I'll tell you some now. Try being sure of what you want in life. Act on it. Start that business you always wanted to. But I’m thinking.... start with.. a smaller step. Get that tattoo you always talked about. I’ll take you,” he says with a clear voice now, smiling as he looked up and brushed the inside of your arm, where you’d always talked about getting a tattoo. “I’m sure of what I want.”

“As always,” you say with a laugh. “What is it this time?”

“I told you. I want you.”

“Oh shut up,” you say, lightly shoving him this time, but he doesn’t budge, not even a little bit, nor does he giggle as he did earlier, just continues to stare at you and try to hold back…. something. You assume it’s a joke.

“Jungkook, stop - this isn’t funny.” You reply before you could even realize the words he’s saying.

“I’m not being funny.”

You stop and finally look at Jungkook’s face. He desperately tries to avoid your gaze but soon can’t help but look into your eyes - his were dilated and red from all the alcohol.

“You’re drunk,” you spit out, repeating the words softly.

“I am. But I’m sure of it when I’m sober, too,” he says, fidgeting with his fingers before playing with yours. “I’m sure that I want you. I was always sure. And I’m sure I want to hold your hand.” You can’t explain why you allow him to do so, knowing his state, and soon, his fingers find the ends of your hair and the base of your neck, grazing the skin there while his thumb rubs at your cheek. “I’m sure I want to -” he whispers against your lips, and you can’t help but jump at the very instance you feel his breath against your lips.

“Jungkook, no,” you lean back, holding the tears in your eyes and hoping he doesn’t feel the goosebumps on your skin. “Jungkook, you’re drunk.”

He immediately lets go of you, and you feel the world crumble in that brief moment, in fear you’d thrown away the only shot you had at the only thing you were sure you wanted, clinging onto the hope that he'll forget it all in the morning. But instead he shakes his head and looks… confused.

“It doesn’t go like this. This is weird,” he drawls, looking at his hands, you, Bam, and the rest of the apartment.

“What?” you say, just as confused as he seems to be, ignoring a sinking feeling in your stomach at the idea that Jungkook was confused his attempts at kissing girls never went “like this” - with a rejection that you didn’t want to give him.

“It doesn’t go like this! I’m… And you’re…. You’re here, but…. you’re not wearing any clothes. Why am I? Did we not get to that part of it yet?”

“Part of what?”

But Jungkook takes a look around the apartment again before quietly murmuring to himself. “This is a weird sex dream.”

Oh. OH.

He continues, thinking he's asleep.

“We’ve done this so many times, and it never went like this. I… Can’t you at least want me back in my dreams? Why… why is this dream different?”

”Jungkook…”

“Shhhh,” he lazily brings a finger to your lips. “Let me recap. It’s the same. My apartment’s the same. Why is Bam here? He’s usually in the other room. I’m here. You’re here. Wait…. are you?”

“I… I am, Jungkook.”

“No you’re not. You won’t be when I open my eyes.” he pouts, hiding his face in his elbow again.

“It’s like… It’s like that time I put you in bed when I found you drunk in your underwear in the corner at my party after you just… what did you do? Didn’t you say you just wanna dance in your underwear or some shit? Then you… said you wanted me to see you like that. I tried so fucking hard not to look. I put you to bed, and I at least expected to get some reality of waking up beside you, but… you weren’t there.

And I wanted to confess last night during karaoke, with all your favorite songs but... I didn't think I actually called you. It was just practice. Then I was so nervous I drank way, way too much, and I must've passed out. And now you're not even naked in my dreams - well, tonight's dream anyway... Is it because of the stress? And wait, why am I wearing glasses? I don't have you OR perfect vision in this dream?!" he pouts, taking off his glasses and throwing them across the couch before resting his head on his elbow, in his hands, and all over as he struggles with the realization.

Jungkook stays like that for a good minute, giving you time to take in the situation. Firstly, you’d never drink unsupervised at a party again because what the fuck… But you quickly remind yourself that it didn’t matter too much. He put you in bed. He saw you in your underwear and knew that you - or at least a part of you - wanted to be with him in that way. And not only that, he wanted to see you that way too. He wanted to wake up next to you. And Jungkook, awake and drunk, thought he was in a regular sex dream he had… with you…. and was upset at the idea of waking up without you beside him…. again. He wanted to confess. If his hands on your skin hadn't ignited your skin, the touch of him lingering there, you’d be certain you were dreaming too. He… he must’ve really been sure. Who were you to doubt that? He’s Jungkook.

Your hand reaches out to touch his face, not even knowing what you were about to say to him, but it didn’t matter. By the time you look back at him, he was already passed out, the pout still on his face, buried in his arms. Still beautiful. Any gentle attempt at waking him up proved to be futile - and more for you than it was for him. The cheek grazes, the head scratches, the arm squishes - finally yours to touch after he’d been flexing in his short-sleeves all night long. There was no way it hurt like it said he did. Standing up and tugging his arm until he got on his feet nearly did it, and you had to help his drunken and dazed self all the way to his bed. He was just awake enough to lie down on his own.

You stare at him on the bed below you, and with the quiet chirping of the birds outside his window and the early sunlight streaming in below his curtains…. you knew this was the most peaceful moment you had ever experienced in your life, so you took it all in. He'd forget about this tomorrow, but you'd remember it for the rest of your days.

When you suspected Jungkook finally drifted off to sleep again, you reluctantly turned away from the scene and made your way to his bedroom door.

“Stay.”

You’re unsure you heard correctly, but he repeats the word.

“Stay…. please.”

Turning back, you see Jungkook’s tattooed arm outstretched toward you. Inviting you in.

With the serenity of it all and your heart laid out in front of you, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Especially since he wasn’t the only one that was up all night. You turn over the covers, holding Jungkook’s hand before gently snuggling into his arms…. and just like that he passes out for real, a soft moan and a snore escaping him instantly. You could dash out. You could run, try to forget the night and hope he does too. But you don’t. Because he’ll wake up. Because he's sure. And because you’re sure too. And you’ll be there to tell him.

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mamaestapa · 3 months

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rutger making her squirt for the first time and ethan proudly watching and rutger being so shocked

when i first read this ask like weeks ago...i literally gasped. its so amazing and so omg. its so hot😩

ANYWAYS

you and ethan have been together since your freshmen year. you've been intimate countless times, done it on so many special and non-special occasions, multiple rounds, the whole nine yards, but he's never made you squirt before.

rutger did though.

you're leaning back into ethan's bare chest as rutger goes down on you. your hands are alternating between grabbing at ethans chest and tugging at rutgers hair, pushing him closer to your soaked and aching core.

youre a moaning mess as rutgers tongue flicks your clit before lapping generously at your folds with his skilled tongue, making sure to get every last drop of your sweetness on his tongue. ethan has taught him so well...

"look at her rut, look how worked up you've got her."

"she's so beautiful, god and those sounds she makes"

you're whimpering and writhing at the feeling of rutgers tongue and fingers pleasuring you in ways you've never been pleasured before. he's teasing you, edging you so much that you know once that coil in your belly snaps its going to be one of the best orgasms of your life. as rutgers eating you out like a starved man, ethan is kissing your neck and playing with your nipples because he knows that gets you even more worked up. he loves the pretty sounds you make during sex, rutger does too.

eventually once the time comes and that coil finally snaps, it snaps. you let your orgasm completely take over your body and youre so blissed out you dont even realize what's happening.

rutger made you squirt for the first time.

ethan is just proud. proud of rutger and proud of you. your chest is heaving like crazy as you come down from your high, and rutger is panting as he sucks your juices off of his fingers and lips.

"woah that was fucking hot"

"damn rut, you just made my girlfriend squirt"

"i did?"

"hell yeah you did. atta boy."

(GUYS THIS LITERALLY MADE ME AHHHHHHHHHH🫠)

#asks #digital animal asks #digital animal au #ethan e asks #rutger m asks #this was the hottest ask ive ever received #thank you anon omg

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redcoralpot · 8 months

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Smudged - Rodrick Heffley x FTM! Reader

Summary: Rodrick had been chasing after Heather for a year, now, even after ruining her birthday party. Chicks dig bad boys, right? However, one day, he stumbles upon a family member that even he didn't know she had, one that awakens a part of him that he didn't know existed.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3.3K

Notes: I had to fight Google Docs to finish this. AHHHHHHHHHH

The sun beat down on your arms, with rough concrete scratching your palms. Your ankles were dipped into the pool, a cool feeling enveloping them, and you used this to your advantage. A pink pool doughnut floated past, manipulated by the soft waves coming from other visitors, and you reached a foot out of the water with a splash!

“What the hell!” Heather shrieked, attempting to paddle away from you. “Don’t get your toe-water on me, freak!”

“Like I care,” you snickered, raising your foot to do it again.

“You’re going to start caring when I dump your eyeliner in the toilet!”

A pout tugged on your lips, “Hey, now, that’s going a little far, don’t you think?”

“Like I care,” she sneered, rolling her eyes.

The threat worked well enough, and you lowered your weapon, letting a hiss of air move a wisp out of your eyes. At least she wasn’t going to hide your pins inside the cookie jar… again.

You spread a sheen of water across your biceps, attempting to quell the heat that built up from the minutes spent sitting on the edge. It only provided a sense of relief for a moment before a shadow loomed over your little spot, the temperature dropping with the rays missing. A groan built up in your throat; he was here.

Rodrick Heffley. The infamous man himself; the lead singer and drummer of the one band that ruined a girl’s birthday party for the sake of courting her, a serenade full of copyright instead of romance. That girl happened to be the most popular in the school, the one that every guy was tripping over himself over. The one who, rather unfortunately, happened to be your sister.

Your neck twisted upwards, just to look at him, “What?”

“Didn’t know Heather had a brother,” he said, with a smug smile on his face.

“Huh.” You grinned, “I assumed you saw me at her party.”

The smile dropped, and was replaced with a sheepish look, “Uh, yeah, I was busy.”

“That’s a gentle way to put it.”

He cleared his throat, struggling to not take the bait, “But, hey, what grade are you in? I’ve never seen you around.”

“Same grade, different schools. We’re twins.”

“Oh, damn, really? I couldn’t tell, you two don’t look the same, at all!”

You were used to getting that comment from older generations, who hadn’t been to school in the last half-a-century, but from a late teen? Health and biology should be fresh in everyone’s minds, they all took it two years ago. Though, who were you kidding, this was Rodrick you were talking about. He probably tricked his parents into doing all the homework for him, or worse, bullied his little brother into it.

“Yeah, really. We’re fraternal twins, not identical.” You rolled your eyes.

There was no light bulb shining in his eyes, no signs that he even registered what you said, “Wait, what?”

“Two sperm, two eggs. Boom.”

“Still, it’s kinda sick that you two are complete,” he paused, “opposites.”

“Are you and Greg–”

“Me and that little nerd are not the same.”

“Then it’s the same concept.”

Rodrick kicked his sandals off before flopping on the edge beside you, cursing silently to himself when the rough ground scraped his hand. You gratefully took the chance to slide your own around your neck, cracking it out of its uncomfortable position. When you looked up again, he was watching you, his lips parted ever so slightly. He visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple betraying him.

“Where do’ya get your eyeliner from?”

“The pharmacy, duh. I won’t spend a lot on expensive eyeliner if I’m just going to smudge it in the end. By then, it all looks the same, why?”

“Just looking for some good brands to keep up my amazing makeup skills, that’s all.”

“So you don’t have to keep borrowing your mom’s?”

He squinted his eyes, peering at you, “How the hell do you know that?”

“Being Heather’s brother pays off sometimes; I hear all her calls.”

“She… talks about me?” You could hear the excitement, the hope growing in his voice.

It took only a needle to pop it, “Yeah, shit-talks. She doesn't want you, man.”

“Nah, all chicks dig bad boys! They can’t act cool about it forever.”

“You’re more of a wannabe than a bad boy. Listen, if you’re hoping to get with Heather through me, you’re out of luck.”

He backed up, eyes wide, “Woah, woah, I never said that. It’d be a cool plus, sure, but I just wanted to talk to a cool dude.”

“Sure. Well, if you ever need some more eyeliner brands, I’m your man. Can’t promise that they won’t all be dumped in the toilet by tonight, though.”

“Why would they be–”

“Hey, newsflash,” A high voice called out from across the pool, doughnut in tow, “we promised to be back at home by five!”

“Oh, Heather, I have a show coming up; I could get you and the chicks some free tickets to it.” Rodrick hopped on one foot while struggling to get his sandals back on, that smirk creeping back onto his face.

You shook your head and decided to take your feet out of the pool, padding to your lounge chair. Drying them off on your towel, you roughhoused your socks and shoes on, worn to shreds after inspiration from Joey Ramone. Your father had been lucky enough to score tickets to one of his shows back in the late 80’s, and he recalls it as one of the best nights of his life. Not simply because he got to go to a concert, no, his buddy even had to convince him to go in the first place. It was one of his favorite recollections to tell to his two, and then three, children as they grew up.

Rodrick was promptly ignored by Heather as she walked over to you, and his eyes followed her as she dumped her float and bag into your arms. Only the tips of her hair were wet, and like you, had a dry pair of clothes on already. You had to wrestle with the weight until you had a clear view of the ground in front of your shoes.

After you passed the boy on your way to the exit, you called back, “Good luck with the show, Heffley!”

The walk back to the car was a short, but humid one; even from the distance you could see a slip of folded paper stuck in between your left windshield wiper, pale against the dark interior of the car. You managed to set your sister’s bag on the hood, and with light fingers, you plucked the note out of its hiding place, unfolding it.

“Looks like we had a visitor;” You couldn’t help but chuckle while reading it, “Löded Diper.”

Heather fumed, “Are you kidding me?”

“You don’t need to go, yeah?” You shrugged, ducking into the driver’s seat.

“It’s annoying!”

“I can’t exactly say it’s harmless after the party fiasco, but just know I’ll chase him off if he tries anything like that again.”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You smiled, tucking the invitation deep into your pocket.

Dawdling with Heather’s time in the pool had earned you two missing sticks of makeup, and it was not hard to guess where they had gone the next time you took a piss. You forced yourself not to lash out at your sister, as surely that would make it worse, and just gritted your teeth as you flung the ruined containers into the trash. It truly made you wonder just how Rodrick had come to fall head over heels– literally, in some sense– for the girl. Hell, she treated him worse than you, from the things Holly had whispered to you at the dinner table.

The sun was just starting to set in the sky, light blue bleeding into orange as the pharmacy blocked the sun. You kicked a rock into the entrance, and the small clack caused the doors to slide open in front of you. It was a little late for the nightly rush; the very last of the families were finishing up their shopping, their kids squealing at the gum displayed by the cashier. He was a lean, stiff-looking guy, with sunken eyebags and a dim grin on his face.

You whistled a tune under your breath, convincing him to turn to look at you, “You’re not paid enough for this, dude.”

“You think?” His smile dropped, and he rolled his eyes, “Why the hell are you here, anyway?”

“Holly isn’t sick, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“And?”

“But someone was sick enough to sabotage my makeup,” you said, flicking his silver name tag. Daniel.

Daniel slapped your hand away, gesturing to your bare eyes, “That part was obvious. Another guy with raccoon eyes slid in here only a few minutes earlier, looking for the same brand you always get, so I kind of assumed he was here to replenish your stash.”

“What? I’m here alone.”

“Really?” He came in close. “You’re sure you aren’t on a–”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You pushed his face back, your pointer finger squishing his nose.

A couple wandered up to the counter, baby in arms, snot running down its red chin. Their basket was full to the brim, and although Daniel’s winner grin instantly grew, you knew he just wanted to clock out. Snickering, you stuck your hands into your pockets, your wrists scratching against your studded belt as you disappeared into an aisle. The makeup section was located near the back of the pharmacy, filled with flickering lights and shelves full of a few select, cheap brands or clumps of dust. Typically, the only customers that wandered that far back were pre-teens or cigarette mothers; the kind of people who don’t give a shit about what they’re buying as long as it’s cheap.

However, as you sauntered over to the first row of shelves, a head full of brown, lazily styled hair greeted you instead. Not the odor of burnt tobacco, though it still stuck to the white walls in yellowish-gray globs, but the scent of the cheap cologne that followed you around the pool. Rodrick was hanging over quite a specific section, chewing his bottom lip. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as you looked on behind him in amusement.

Leaning against the wall, you chuckled, “Took my advice, huh, Heffley?”

Rodrick jumped, and hissed under his breath. His posture shot up, his head turning to look at you; a pathetic attempt at saving face, really. No words were said for a long minute, only interrupted by the gargling screeches of a baby. What had Daniel done?

“I thought drug stores selling makeup was a lie, so I had to fact check!” He said,

holding up his hands.

“You think I’d lie to you?”

“Hey, my mom taught me stranger danger.”

“Since when do you listen to your mom?” You reached past him, snatching up a container, “You obviously have no idea what to look for.”

Rodrick shuffled out of your way, and huffed at your comment. “I totally do!”

“Okay, then, pencil, felt, or liquid? Which do you prefer?”

“I think felt’s the best.”

At that confident response, you stepped closer, getting in his face. He didn’t have too much makeup on, actually; just messily applied eyeliner and a too-light eyebrow pencil. A light pink dusted his cheeks, now that you were able to get a good look at them– his eyes widened, preventing you from doing the same for his eyes. You bit your cheek, your own eyebrows furrowing.

“Relax, dude, I’m trying to look,” you snapped, and used his chin to force him to face upwards.

Even as his shoulders relaxed and his eyelids drooped, he mumbled, “You’re taller than I remember.”

You released his face. Without someone to lean on, Rodrick stumbled, his breathing heavy, despite him never doing anything but laze around. Stepping back, you gave him a knowing grin, pleased at your find. He didn’t seem to process it, lifting a hand to feel up his own jaw. It clicked shut with a snap.

“Liar, you’re wearing pencil eyeliner,” you snickered.

“How the hell could you tell?”

You reached for another container, “Unless you have shit coordination, it’s less precise than liquid is. Creamier, too.”

“That’s sick, man.”

Tapping the pencil into his hand, you kicked his foot, urging him to take it, “I recommend this brand if you’re a fan of that. It’s cheap, so you can stop using up all of your mom’s.”

“Ow!”

He pulled his foot up with one, gripping the eyeliner with the other. Hopping back, he seemed like a really pissed, wounded puppy as he glared at your boots, “Why’d you kick me with those monsters?”

“Monsters? These are Doc Martens, ‘1460’. How do you expect to impress Heather if you can’t even handle a tap to the heel?”

“Excuse me, I let it get run over by a car for her! Barely reacted.”

“So I heard.” You shook your head.

A voice shouted from the intercom, “Are you two done back there? The store’s closing in five, you’re the only ones left, and I’ll lock you in here if you make me work a minute overtime!”

The two of you rushed to the front, pushing and shoving each other into the aisles in order to get to the counter first. Rodrick, out of shape, lost after he landed back-first into packages of gauze. Daniel, the man himself, was even more unimpressed at the scene than he sounded over the intercom, and looked in back and forth between you. He cracked his knuckles, getting to work on scanning the two tiny pencils; he did not even bother to put them in a plastic bag. He scratched his chin, squinting at the screen.

“That’ll be $2.48.”

You pulled out a five dollar bill out of your wallet, “I’ll pay.”

“Shit, I’m okay with that.” Rodrick shrugged.

Daniel stared him down as he snatched the bill out of your hand, “Aren’t you Rodrick Heffley? Greg’s older brother?”

“Duh, the one and only!” Rodrick said, and Daniel turned to you.

“Since when were you buddy-buddy with him? Heather hates his guts.”

“We aren’t buddy-buddy,” you scoffed, and an affronted noise came from beside you. “I only officially met him yesterday, when he was harassing her again. Pretty sure he only talked to me to find out more about Heather.”

The register finished its business with a ding. The cashier handed you your change, taking the opportunity to slide his uniform vest off of his body. You pocketed it along with your stick of eyeliner, almost throwing Rodrick’s at him. Meanwhile, Daniel had disappeared behind a door locked to customers, a clear message to get out of the store while he still allowed it. Your shoes hit the tiled floor with heavy thumps; Rodrick’s steps were silent compared to yours. Your own footsteps quieted as soon as you exited the store, muted by the asphalt ground of the parking lot.

Rodrick had pulled in with his van, clearly not the smartest move if he had wanted to be inconspicuous. It had a cheap, white paint job that was stained with words spray painted in black, uncentered and tilted. Your car, on the other hand, was a tiny thing that belonged to your mother, who would absolutely murder you if you even got a dent in it from a passing stick. The sun had long dipped under the horizon, causing the deep red color to read as crimson. However, before you could get in, one hand on the door, Rodrick called out to you.

“Thanks for… stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “That’s the first time I think anybody has ever witnessed you say thanks.”

You slammed your car door shut with you inside, watching Rodrick scramble for safety inside his van. The car’s windshield was dark with the fresh evening sky, and you could finally relax in privacy. Turning the key to start the engine, you then flicked on the radio, one arm occupied by resting near the window. An unfamiliar tune, a new release, started playing, as you backed out of your spot; speeding off. If someone asked you about it later, you would have sworn that you saw the boy staring at your fleeting vehicle.

Truth be told, your family lived in a rich neighborhood that was too well put together for something so close to a highway. Your house wasn’t the biggest in the residency, but it was decent enough to see the golden lights shining through the treetops. Living near a long line of stores was an advantage, you supposed, if a zombie apocalypse happened; but that wouldn’t. At least while you were still alive or young enough to fight some off. Otherwise, it was noisy, and you had to drown out the sounds of motorcycles, cars, and fights breaking out to focus on anything after school.

Your driveway was smooth; any rocks had been smoothed out by the machines rolling over them daily. A few flower bushes lined it– your mother had been insistent about it– and their thorns occasionally caught on your pants when you walked past. Everyone seemed to still be awake as you slipped through the door, keys jingling, since Holly jumped down the stairs to greet you.

She whispered, “Where’d you go?”

“The pharmacy, why are we whispering?” You grinned, matching her energy.

“I didn’t know if mom and dad knew,” she responded, louder, “You got grounded for a month last time you snuck out.”

“Okay, okay, shh, back to whispering.”

You climbed up the stairs, not bothering to let Heather know you had returned. Her voice carried throughout the walls, as she was complaining on call about projects, about boys, about Rodrick. Every time she talked with her friends, she complained about the ‘tough guy’ who deluded himself into thinking she was secretly into him, every time he acted up. All the girls seemed to have formed a hate club for the drummer, and if Holly had anything to say about it, it was that some of the teachers joined it as well.

As soon as you shut your bedroom door, you bent down to untie your Doc’s purple ties, tugging the boots off and throwing them in your closet. You slipped your pants off, then your boxers, leaving only your secondary underwear to hold your pad inside. Before you could throw both garments in your hamper, you paused, feeling a crinkle underneath your hand. You reached down into the pocket, pulling out a wrinkled, ripped piece of paper. Thoughtfully, you smoothed it out, pinning it on your cork board as you tossed your clothes into the pile.

Two free tickets to their upcoming show, meant for Heather. It would take a lot in order to drag Daniel to the event with you, as a plus one, but you were sure you were capable. As you settled into bed, you thought back to all the things your twin had said about the band, and the party. That celebration had been the only time you had heard their music, and it wasn’t even their song, more so a cover.

You gently placed the pencil on your bedside, only able to see the outline of it in the moonlight. If he was only being nice to you for Heather’s approval, why had he taken your advice? That mystery should bother you, should keep you up, like it did last night. But truly?

You could not find it in yourself to care.

#x male reader #male reader #lgbtq #gay #transgender #male y/n #ftm reader #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #Bi Rodrick Heffley #gay awakening

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bendydudeinc · 5 months

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I’m so happy I found your page cuz your writing is amazing and it’s refreshing to have transmasc reader content (plus you simp for all the same characters I do, so like score)

I was wondering tho, would you consider ever writing amab reader? For me it feels more “at home” than afab anatomy if that makes sense so it would be super cool if you were open to writing an amab post sometime! No worries at all if not, I just thought I might as well ask :)

Thank you so much, I’m so glad you like it!! I am totally open to writing amab content and in fact, hopefully your feeling thirsty for Dazai becuase here’s a little somethin~

Warnings: Reader is bottom, receiving overstimulation, amab reader, light bondage mentions of butt stuff at the end lolzers

“Please….please please please touch it!”

This has been going on for what feels like hours. You’re tied with ropes to the bed frame by your wrists and ankles, completely naked and exposed for the tall man in front of you whose fingers ghost achingly close to your rock hard cock. He leans over you, smirking as he looks down at your needy expression, eyebrows furrowed in as you beg. When he said he bet he could make you submit to him- you didn’t know he meant absolutely fucking ruin your sense of dignity. He’s worked you up by whispering the most seductive words in your ear, voice dropping low as he taunts you, fingers wrapping tightly around just below the tip of your cock and pumping at a painfully slow pace. He praises the beautiful sight when you begin to cry and drool pools at the side of your mouth when his thumb slowly runs across the slit on your sensitive tip. Your dick pulses and you let out a loud moan when he tightens his grip and suddenly focuses on the tip.

“You want me to give you what you need baby? Yeah? You been a good boy today? You think your pretty cock deserves this attention~?”

You nod frantically and nearly yelp at the loss when he pulls away, whining as your dick throbs with need for release. He’s quick to silence your pouts when he drops to his knees, your eyes widening and making him smirk like the devil as his eyes twinkle with excitement. He takes your cock into his hand, eyes on you at all times as he pumps it a few times and uses your whine as a cue to lower his mouth onto the tip. His runs his tongue flat across the slit, then runs it flat on the side of the tip and sucks, hard. You throw your head back and writhe in your restraints as your cock pulses into his mouth. He moans and grips your thighs, sucking in inch by inch into his watering mouth. He’s taking you to cloud nine, one hand reaching for your balls and gripping, tugging slightly at one as he takes the whole length into his throat and swallows. His eyes roll back and he moans around your dick, squeezing your balls harder to milk out every drop when he feels your hips buck up, fucking his face as you moan out high pitched sounds of bliss, shooting cum right down his throat. You’re creating marks in your ankles and wrists from pulling and squirming in your restraints. You whine and pant as he sucks at round the tip again.

“D-Dazai! I- too m-much! Can’t take- ngh~!”

You’re interrupted by a finger caressing teasingly at your asshole. And he pulls off of your twitching dick just for a moment to speak.

“Need more of your cum so we have lube to fuck your ass next baby~”

AHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS MY FIRST AMAB SMUT DRABBLE THING HOPE ITS ALRIGHT 😰

#dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazaibsd #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #osamudazai #male reader #amab reader #bsd dazai #dazai x you

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002yb · 3 months

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jason and roy have a longstanding guys being dudes thing where they text each other pics of their gnarly bruises and not too serious wounds so that the other can be like “woah, i can see the tread pattern of the boot just from the bruise!” because these things are cool and gross in the way that dudes find irresistible and here is a guy who will valorize it without all the you should have been better undertone or smothering worry and it escalates until one day when jay gets a fingernail ripped off and his first thought after all the danger and blood is ha! this beats roy’s thing from last week and like they are somewhat aware that its kinda abnormal but their text convos are a safe space free from shame or judgement so its all good until someone gets a glimpse of pure gore followed by a winky face emoji when jason goes to open his phone

Just gonna casually bring this around to something more dickjayroy, because of course I would. All the above, but:

Dick and Roy running a mission together and, while successful, isn't without casualty. It's nothing they won't survive, but they're a little fucked up. Dick more so, but he's a scrapper. He'll survive the wait for first aid while Roy takes some sick and sleazy mirror pics for his boy Jaybird. It's all good.

Dick might be a little concussed and bleeding on Roy's couch, but Roy can't not share the road burn that stretches up his arm and shoulder.

Roy hearing Dick call for him from down the hall. Just a thoughtful check-in of, 'You okay?' Like Dick in his current state of wooziness and pain has the wherewithal to come help Roy if needed. The thought is sweet.

The fact that Dick would find the resolve to help Roy even as Dick is s t r u g g l i n g is mildly horrifying though, so.

Some cute banter as Roy sends his message off, calling out to Dick that he's good but also for validation that Roy looked cool while he was skidding across asphalt earlier. He was, right?

Pffft, Dick trying to be playful/teasing when he agrees, but he's so fucked up that it comes out sounding more genuine than anything and Roy is ;U; as he settles in to take care of his friend. Helping Dick out of the top of his costume only to pause because - wow.

Just Dick lacking all self-awareness. He's hurt. He's tired. He's got someone he trusts looking after him, so. Dick just slouches on the couch, head tipped over the back of it. Boneless. Dazed. Chest and abs a beautiful sight - all toned muscles heaving with shallow breaths, and like. Dick being hot is nothing Roy blinks an eye at, nah. It's the ugly, weeping wound in his side that does. Blood stained and irritated and already showing signs of bruising crawling up his ribs.

Of course the camera comes out. Of course Roy sneaks off a picture to Jason (it only shows Dick's wounded torso, even if Dick's scowl is handsome and deserves to be seen by more people than Roy lol).

Anyway, Dick joking about if Roy got his good side. To which Roy snickers because Dick is all good sides; but yeah, for sure.

Then Roy proceeds to actually tend to Dick's injury. Cleaning, stitching, distracting. Dick being a model patient, disturbingly still although he's sweating through all the pain. Seemingly ignoring Roy, only he'd never. Because whenever Roy stops talking Dick opens his eyes to look at him until Roy starts talking again.

Just Dick finding comfort in the sound of his friend's voice ahhhhhhhhhh. ;A;

In which a Roy and Jason ask becomes entirely Dick and Roy omg. This happens every time but in my defense they're perfect, so.

While Roy's hands are all bloody from patching Dick up, a reply comes through on Roy's phone. Roy telling Dick to check it for him.

Which leads to a little coy game of, 'what's your password?' and 'hah! like you don't know,' and 'if it's not my birthday idk if i'll recover,' and 'bull. what's your password?' 'the day we met ;)' which it isn't, Roy would discover later. Which would lead to lots of laughs and play fighting and it'd be cute af.

Anyway, Dick checking the message and seeing that the picture Roy took of him went to Jason, of all people. Jason - who has no idea who he's looking at.

Letting Dick read the texts is top tier distraction plan, on Roy's part. Also, it ends up being funny.

Just Jason being genuinely confused because he doesn't know about all of Roy's missions and stuff. So he's just like, 'hot damn.' 'i know that's not you who's mr.man?' and extra stuff about the actual injury with Jason trying to figure out what happened and being all thirsty because he'd take a bite fr

And it makes Dick laugh and ow, but it's so dumb

Dick taking the cheekiest photo with Roy that shows how he's stitching Dick up and tbh? Roy thinks it's criminal the sort of devastation Dick can cause when Dick tries. In that same vein, he's just as devastating when he doesn't try. That's neither here nor there though.

Roy cackling as they send off the photo and watching through titters at the ensuing silence, the indication that Jason is texting before he disappears before coming back again and going away.

Something something with Roy and Jason being fascinated by injury and gore. Meanwhile, Dick is all there for the emotional damage and injury through flustered feels. He's w/e about a bleeding wound, but blood rushing to Jason's cheeks in a blush? That's what Dick would want a picture of.

Commence Roy and Dick having their own text conversation that is entirely photos of just that LOL.

Roy's just living his best life and he deserves it.

#dickroy #dickjay #jaydick #royjay

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c0la-queen · 10 days

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Absolutely melting at the idea of the Hybird!Boys nagging at Reader for her food even when they already have their own, literally just a bunch of spoiled little babies UGHHH THEYRE SO CUTEEEEE I love them sm…

Like reader’s got herself a nice meaty dinner, maybe a good cut of steak, and as shes eating she suddenly feels smt wet poking at her arm, and she looks to see what and it’s Soldier booping her arm with his nose, staring and drooling at the delicious steak, he starts trying to hop up to nip at it while reader tries push him away, but she ends up cutting a lil piece, dusting off the salt seasoning as best as she could and feeding him it anyways,

I like to think that Tord/Soldier likes snacking on other’s food, esp if its like savory salty meaty stuff yknow what I mean? I can totes see him as the asshole type to steal the other guy’s food stuff, maybe he’ll be a bit nicer to you and nag ask you first

AHHHHHHHHHH SAME THING FOR PRINCE TOOOO WHEN YOU HAVE LIKE A DELICIOUS LIL CREAMY TREATIE He would WHINEEEEE for some sooo badd you HAVE to give him some, he loves treaties sm and will be As dramatic as he can to get the sweets he wants

Going to Starbucks with him and everytime you HAVE to get him a pupcup kinda situation, so you only stop by there sometimes on occasions like when you have to get him to the vet for a checkup otherwise he’ll by crying allll the way home when you deny getting him one cause he’s already have too much and that’ll both break my heart and also annoy me sm LOOLLLLLLL

I literally have such a huge soft spot for Prince and his pompousness…I wanna shower him in kisses and babytalk and squish his face so badly he’s such a cutie patootie

The day you cook bacon for breakfast???? It’s over. Prepare for the hardest tussle in your life wrestling with Superhero for the bacon, if he already bosses you around then you know HE WILL BE RELENTLESS with the bacon, a Giant wolfdog fighting you frfr for food??? Gone…

SOLDIER ENDING UP JOINING IN TOO?1??1?11 literally actually over. It’s a battle to the death. Someones probably going to get hurt and its probably most definitely is going to be you falling over from 2 big ass wolfdogs jumping onto you and knockign you over for the bacon LMAOOOOOO

Soldier and Superhero fighting each other for it but they take it too far though and it become an actual fight for food situation…hic…Reader has to step in and stop them somehow, everyones upset, she has to make both of them 2 pieces and scolds them, they resolved and apologized nicely though at least…

And reader never makes bacon for breakfast ever again(unless its a special occasion when she wants to treat the both of them)

Really love the thought of Monster being the one that rarely nags reader for food like the others Only cause hes a bit distant and has a kinda weird ego abt it y’know, so its Reader who spoils him and tries to get him to try stuff cause he’s a good dog, he deserves it

She notices him eyeing out the food shes having curiously, sniffing at it, so she gets a small piece and asks if he wants to try it and she gets vv happy when he accepts, the others probably gets jealous at the treatment and tries to get some too lolll he probably feels SO proud and full of himself whehehe…

Omg you are SO correct and big brained for this!

Poor Reader would absolutely never get a moment of rest with these four eccentric wolf dogs.

Before adopting them, she definitely had a habit of sitting on the couch with her dinner and watching YouTube videos about niche internet drama (yes I'm projecting) but now she's realized that, to the boys, this is simply an open invitation. I guarantee that, at first, Soldier wouldn't even beg her for the food. He'd be the type to just reach over and start sniffing at her plate. He's not even trying to be sneaky about it! That bastard would have the audacity to look her in the eyes while trying to take food off her plate! She tries to scold him about it, but he simply does not listen - in his mind, there's nothing wrong with what he's doing. So she's taken to sitting at the dining room table and watching YouTube videos on her phone instead. (Soldier will still put his head on her leg and stare at her expectantly.)

Reader is simply Just A Girl 💅, so we know our self-love queen would go get herself a sweet treat all the time. It varies, usually whatever she's craving at the time. There have been times where she's got a random craving for something she doesn't have, and will get up and leave her house to go get it (the boys get so annoyed and huffy). But she should know that no matter what it is she gets, Prince will want a bite. He'd be cute about it, too - whining and pouting and blinking up at her with those baby blue eyes. Eventually, Reader would giggle and give in, with the warning of "Just one bite, baby." Then she'd share a little piece with him. If it's something that isn't safe for dogs, she'd be less willing to share with him, insisting that it'll hurt him. Still, he'd whine for it. (It's not Reader's fault that she doesn't know he can have them!) And yes, I feel like Prince would be the most well behaved in the car, and the best around people, so he's the one that gets to join her on outings more often. She made the mistake of stopping by a coffee shop and getting him a pup cup ONE TIME, and now he's hooked. Every time they pass by that coffee shop (he knows that it's Reader's favorite, since the baristas know her by name) he will bark and howl and work himself up into a tizzy until Reader finally sighs and gives in. After he gets that pup cup, he's back to being well-behaved and a sweetheart. Reader hates it. Plus, people would fawn over Prince in public since he's such a pretty boy. He absolutely eats it up!

God save Reader if she decides to make bacon one morning. It's not something she does often - she probably decided to do it this time as a special occasion. Maybe it's the morning of her birthday or a holiday. Either way, she decided to make a big breakfast for herself. Which included bacon.

Superhero is normally the first of the four to wake up. From what Reader can gather, Soldier takes the night shift. He stays awake through the night, watching out the windows and sometimes patrolling the house. Because of this, Soldier tends to sleep during the day. Superhero then takes the mantle of "guard dog" during the day. Prince and Monster will sometimes take the night shift instead, but it's normally Superhero and Soldier.

Still, Superhero has a routine of patrolling the house the moment he wakes up, checking for anything wrong. If Reader is making bacon, though? Superhero is glued to her legs in an instant. She'd laugh at first and lightheartedly tell him no. He wouldn't give up. He'd escalate to putting his front paws up on her shoulders and trying to reach the bacon himself. Reader would definitely have to half pick up/half drag him away from the stove. He'd boof and snap his teeth demandingly, as if he's entitled to a piece of this bacon and how dare you not let him have a piece! Reader, always one to fight him on everything, would be adamant not to.

Then Soldier enters the scene. As I said before, Soldier usually sleeps through the first half of the day. But the moment the smell of bacon spreads through the house? She hears claws clacking against the floor as he barrels into the kitchen. It would probably be the most excited Reader has ever seen Soldier, tail wagging and eyes shining brightly. Superhero immediately growls and snaps at Soldier. Reader would just let them tussel at first, using the distraction to finish cooking her bacon. Eventually, she realizes "Oh shit those are NOT play growls-" and quickly runs over to the two to separate them. It takes the promise of two pieces of bacon each to get them to finally settle down.

Reader never makes bacon in her house ever again.

Meanwhile, Monster would be different. Where the other three would be swarming her legs the moment she starts cooking herself dinner, Reader notices that Monster is always sitting patiently to the side. She has to subdue the others by continuously feeding them bites of what she's cooking, but Monster never begs for any. He's the only one that she can eat on the couch with, because he'll lay on top of her feet and won't try to steal her food. But she does notice him glancing at her food. So, since he's always been such a sweetheart, Reader would happily offer Monster food. He would take it slowly, hesitantly. But he feels better after Reader cooes and praises him for being so good. His tail would wag contently. Still, he would never bother Reader for her food. We love Monster in this household <3 I will say, I like to think Tom personally doesn't like bacon. So, if Reader tried to offer some to Monster because it's only fair, he would sniff it, then huff and sneeze and turn his nose away. Doesn't bother Reader, though. Just means it's one less rowdy wolfdog trying to tackle her.

#eddsworld #eddsworld x reader #eddsworld tord #eddsworld tord x reader #eddsworld tom #eddsworld matt #eddsworld tom x reader #eddsworld edd #eddsworld matt x reader #eddsworld edd x reader #hybrid au #requested

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scatterbrainedbot · 4 months

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THROWING THIS DOODLE AT YOU WITH AGGRESSIVE AFFECTION!!

Wanted to render it but ran out of time :') BUT PLEASE KNOW!! Your Rat son au is my Roman empire. I think about it at LEAST once a week, like the designs and concepts and characterization and UGH EVERYTHING!! ITS ALL SO GOOD!! AND UR STYLE?? IM FOREVER CONSUMING IT!!! Literally peek nostalgia, comfort, even thru the angst its just so perfect im-

and- and splinter just bring me so much joy. Hes so goofy and soft and I sob every time I see him, imagine getting like the most gentle and affirming hug- I would cry immediately.

AHHHH!! ANYWAY STAY AMAZING ZACH!! :D <33333

TRIONA

TRIONA. TRIONA I AM SHAKING.

OH MY GOD???? LIKE OH???? MY GOD??????? THOSE ARE MY BABY SONS OH MY GOD THEY ARE GORGEOUS AND COZY PERFECT AMAZING I AM FULLY EMOTIONAL

LOOK AT THEM LOOK AT THEMMMMM AHHHHHHHHHH I CANT STOP STARING AT THEM BUT ALSO HAVE TO LOOK AWAY BECAUSE I AM LITERALLY TEARING UP?????

I LOVE THAT U CAN TELL A STORY FROM JUST THEIR POSES AND POSITIONS LIKE MIKEY DEF CAME OVER TO PESTER DONNIE AND FELL ASLEEP ON HIS LAP SO DONNIE HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO STAY AND NAP TOO (cause its illegal to disrupt little brothers sleeping in ur laps of course, same rule as cats) AND THEN LEO WANDERED IN AND PROBABLY SMILED THAT AFFECTIONATE BIG BROTHER SMILE BEFORE CURLING UP BESIDE THEM THEN RAPH CAME A LIL BIT LATER WONDERING WHERE EVERYONE WAS AND AFFECTIONATELY CALLED THEM A BUNCH OF BOZOS BEFORE TAKING A SEAT WITH THEM (in a semi blind spot too the protective little baby) AND HE DIDNT MEAN TO FALL ASLEEP BUT IT WAS JUST TOO COZY AND AHHH

UGH AND THEN OLD MAN SPLINTER COMES TO CHECK ON THEM AND THOSE ARE HIS BABIES HIS LITTLE BOYS I AM SOBBING TRIONA I LOVE IT SO SO SO MUCH I AM BEYOND WORDS

#LEO IN HIS MASK MAKES ME THINK HE WAS PROLLY TRAINING OR SUCH #he def wears it the most while off mission out of all the boys #mikey forgets it even on missions sometimes lol #UGH I KEEP GETTING CAUGHT ON SPLINTERS SMILE AND HAVING TO STOP AN CRY A MIN /EXTREMELY POS #YOU CAPTURED SPLINTERS GENTLE AND SILLY AND TENDER OLD PAPA VIBES SO PERFECTLY TOO I PHYSICALLY CANNOT COPE #also something about leos pose just makes me so 🤲🥺#my tiny baby son #TRIONA I WILL NOT RECOVER FROM THIS /POS #BYE EVERYONE MY SCHEDULE HAS JUST BEEN OVERTAKEN BY 'UNYEILDING POSITIVE SOBBING' FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL CALANDER YEARS #OBSESSED IM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #FAVE #IMMA HOARD THIS FOR FUCKING EVER #rat sons fanart #ask reply #fandom friends #'unrendered' she says 'DOODLE' SHE SAYS #THEN HANDS U A PIECE WITH FLAWLESS LINEWORK AND GORGEOUS SO SO COZY LIGHT #ALSO I AM HONORED TO BE UR ROMAN EMPIRE LOL #HUGGING U SO HARD <333 THANK YOU FOR DRAWING MY SONS TRIONA #BUT I HOPE U KNOW THIS MEANS WAR /J

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theboywithburninghands · 14 days

Text

Hey all. Last chapter of the latest Bunnyrabbitdoll arc... thing. Longest thing I've written by far. Light on the fluff, heavy on the horror and dark comedy. Hope you enjoy. T/W: Gore, body horror, guns, arachnophobia The Dollhouse Final Part: Kill All Monsters

Caine and Bubble are relaxing on a digital beach, both of them sporting sunglasses and matching towels. Caine is still in his full ringmaster outfit and Bubble can’t actually lay down, so he hovers an inch or two above his towel. Layla sits on their picnic basket, playing some beach music. Caine sips from an empty coconut shell through a crazy straw. Caine: BOY, THIS IS THE LIFE, ISN’T IT BUBBLE?

Bubble: I feel like a million deer, Caine! *eats a seashell*

Caine: A GUY COULD GET USED TO A LITTLE R&R! Bubble: Reading and writing? Caine: OH HO HO NO, YOU ABSOLUTE SIMPLETON! REST AND RELAXATION! IT’S HARD TO COME BY RUNNING A DIGITAL CIRCUS EVERY DAY FOR [error: not found: value] YEARS! THAT’S WHY I LET SOME OF MY SELF-REGULATING AI RUN ADVENTURES NOW AND THEN!

Bubble: You mean like me?

Caine: RIGHT! WE’RE ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY HERE, AND FAMILIES WORK TOGETHER! AND RELAX TOGETHER!

Bubble looked around. They were the only ones on the beach for miles.

Bubble: Hmm… Do you think the performers are okay?

Caine: I’D BET YOU A COMBO MEAL AT SPUDSY’S THAT THEY’RE HAVING THE TIME OF THEIR NON-ABSTRACTED LIVES RIGHT NOW!

Bubble: Good enough for me, boss! *he pulls a sun mirror from Hammerspace and flips it open, setting it in front of him* Ahhhhhhhhhh…

Caine: WORKING ON YOUR TAN THERE, BUBBLE?

Bubble: Heating myself up! It’s fun to feel myself boil!

Caine: *laughs* Oh, you crack me up.

—

Back in Crazy Caine’s House of Tricks, Pomni paced back and forth, tapping the hatchet she found on her palm. Ragatha sat in the corner, near Jax, but with enough distance between them so his stench isn’t unbearable. Jax himself drifts in and out of consciousness, delirious.

Jax: Hey… Hey Pompom. Pompoooom.

Pomni: *sighs* What?

Jax: Wh-What is the scariest tree in the forest..?

Pomni: What? What kind of question-

Jax: Bam-BOO! *makes jazz hands and laughs so hard he coughs, followed by a groan of pain*

Pomni rolled her eyes and continued to pace. Ragatha gave a small, polite laugh at Jax’s terrible joke. Pomni: Where are the others..? They have to be in their own puzzle rooms, right?

Ragatha: All three of us got one. Well, you skipped yours. Maybe we should try doing what you did and climb up the slide?

Jax: My foot hurts…

Ragatha: I know Jax, we’ll get it fixed soon, okay hun?

Pomni: We can’t. The doors locked behind us… *she jiggles the handle of the door Jax fled through to demonstrate*

Ragatha: You tried chopping it down with your ax?

Jax: Heeeere’s POMNI! *laughs himself into coughing again*

Pomni: I could try… but these seem pretty sturdy. I might break it.

Ragatha: It’s worth a shot. Beats sitting in the dark and twiddling our thumbs.

Pomni: I guess… Should I just… pick one?

Jax: Not my door… It’s still in there.

Ragatha: Why don’t you do mine? You already killed that monster…

Pomni: Okay. Pomni stood in front of Ragatha’s door, taking a deep breath and flexing her arms. She then readied her hatchet.

Pomni: …Here we go. Pomni took a mighty swing at the door. With a brittle crunch, the wooden handle broke off, leaving the hatchet-head buried a few inches into the door for a moment before falling out and clanging to the floor. Jax burst into laughter for a third time.

Ragatha: Oh no…

Pomni looked at the broken handle for a moment before balling her fists and hurling it against the wall, where it ricocheted and skittered across the floor.

Ragatha: Pomni, I’m sorry. That was a terrible idea…

Pomni: No-! No, it really wasn’t. It was a good idea, it just… didn’t work.

Ragatha covered her face, Pomni ceasing her pacing and going over to her.

Pomni: Ragatha, I’m sorry, it really was a good idea, I didn’t mean to…

Ragatha: No, it’s okay. It’s okay, I just… It’s horrible here, yeah, but it’s never this horrible… something has to be wrong…

Pomni: What do you mean?

Ragatha: I mean… you saw what was after me… you saw what that monster did to Jax-

Jax appeared to be entertaining himself by seeing how many fingers he could stick through the wound in his foot.

Ragatha: It’s not supposed to be like this… it’s bad but it’s not… not…

Pomni: Not?

Ragatha: Not Rated M…

Pomni: Who cares? We’re alive. And when we get out of this place we can tell Caine exactly how we feel…

Ragatha: …I guess I’ve just gotten used to a specific kind of horror…

Pomni hugged the ragdoll, who gratefully squeezed her back. It was a lot easier to hug her girlfriend with so many other anxieties tuning out her haphephobia.

Pomni: We’ll get out of here. It’s just another stupid adventure, right?

Jax: Hey… where’s my hug?

Pomni: You’ll get one after you’ve had a bath.

Jax: I won’t. You just think I’m ugly…

Pomni: No, I think you stink. Big difference.

Jax: …My foot really hurts.

One of the doors flew open with a crash and Zooble stumbled out of it, clutching what appeared to be a double-barreled shotgun.

Zooble: I SAID GET BACK, YOU UGLY SON OF A B!#€#! GET AWAY FROM ME!

Zooble snapped their shotgun closed just as a clawed, skinless humanoid hand the size of a car wrapped its fingers around the doorframe. A head, skin so tight around its face it more resembled a skull, crammed its way into the doorframe. It had eyes like pools of fog and a long, serpentine tongue, grinning hatefully

Zooble: Yeah. Keep smiling.

Zooble aimed their gun at the creature and fired. The kickback from the weapon sent their torso and arms flying, their head twirling about in the air before landing on the floor and their legs blindly stumbling about. Luckily, they were dead-on with their shot and hit the ghoul creature square in the forehead, fog gushing out of the wound as it clamped its bony hand over it. Zooble’s arms and torso, sitting several feet away from their head, aimed the shotgun once again, using their claw as a mount, and fired. The kickback from this blast blew Zooble’s right arm off their body, but the buckshot found its mark in the ghoul’s jaw, severing it neatly from the rest of the skull, so that it swung back and forth like the pendulum of a clock. It shrieked and gushed a torrent of fog from its maw that appeared to freeze the ground below it, shoving its way back into the doorway, the door slamming shut and locking behind it.

Zooble: F@&$in’ @$$#@!€… their right arm crawls its way back to their body, abandoning the empty gun on the floor. The right arm reaches their torso and their left reattaches it. Then, Zooble’s headless and legless torso pushes itself up so it balances on its hand and claw and ambles its way to their head. They put their head back on and rest a moment.

Jax: *points* Gun.

Zooble twisted their head around before relaxing at the sight of their fellow performers.

Zooble: Sweet J£$&$, it’s just you guys… gimme a second.

Zooble grabbed their wandering legs and hoisted themselves up onto them, twitching each foot to ensure proper connection before taking a few careful steps towards Pomni and the others. They stopped, cringing and covering where their nose might have been with their claw.

Zooble: God, it stinks in here…

Pomni: Sorry. It’s Jax. His monster pretty much had him in Its mouth…

Zooble: Ugh… *keeping their claw up* So… you three made it out. And you all ran into monsters too?

Pomni: I sort of skipped mine by climbing back up the slide and forcing the trapdoor open… I had a weapon too, but it just broke. *she picks up the head of the hatchet*

Zooble: Really? D@##, that gun only had two shells. I looked all over that stupid lodge for supplies…

Jax: Hodgepodge in a lodge… hee hee.

Zooble: What’s with him?

Ragatha: He got bitten by his monster too. I think it might have had something on Its teeth, ‘cause he’s been acting like that for a while.

Jax: *watching his own hand move* My hands make after-hands.

Pomni: Are you alright though, Zooble? Ragatha was just telling me-

Zooble: Oh yeah, dandy. Peachy keen. Nothing like nearly getting frozen by a giant ice wraith to put a little skip in your step.

Ragatha: You were better than I was. Pomni had to kill my monster for me.

Zooble: …Pomni? Really?

Pomni: You don’t need to sound so shocked.

Zooble: I mean, no offense, newbie, but you don’t give off “killer” energy.

Jax: It’s because she loves her!

Pomni blushed hot pink and Ragatha rather brusquely cleared her throat.

Ragatha: He’s uh, not in his right mind. I just got lucky that Pomni stumbled into my escape room…

Zooble: So that leaves Gangle and Kinger unaccounted for.

Ragatha: Right…

Pomni: They have to be inside one of the doors we haven’t used yet. And since they can really hurt us, they might be in big trouble.

Zooble: So what do we do?

Pomni: Well, there’s seven doors. One for each of us, and one that must lead out of here, or deeper into this place, God forbid…

Jax: That one. It’s different…

Jax pointed to a door on the opposite wall from where he was sitting. It was the only door on that wall, and it appeared to have three small, colored lights on it, no brighter than those on a Christmas tree. Pomni, Ragatha and Zooble all approached the door. There were six lightbulbs, two vertical rows of three, on a small panel. A fuschia, periwinkle and red light were illuminated, while the other three were dark. A small bronze plaque above the lights was barely readable in the soft red-violet glow.

Pomni: “Should you give in to your pain,

In this house, you will remain.

‘Tis only after fear is slain

That you can go home again.”

Zooble pointed to each of the illuminated lights.

Zooble: Pink for me, purple for Jax, red for Ragatha.

Ragatha: So the other three are Kinger, Gangle-

Pomni: And me. I have to do mine…

Ragatha: But you skipped it… How are you going to get back in there, all the doors are locked…

Pomni: Let’s worry about that in a bit. Gangle and Kinger haven’t beaten their rooms yet.

Ragatha: But the doors are locked.

Pomni: Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

Pomni picked up the empty shotgun and the blade of the broken hatchet.

Pomni: See if any of the doors open for you. If they don’t, and they probably won’t, try to smash the handles off with the butt of this. *she hands Ragatha the gun* I don’t see a deadbolt, so it must just be a lock on the handle…

Zooble: What if you’re wrong? What if we get stuck in here?

Pomni: Then I’m wrong, and we’re stuck. But we tried.

Pomni jiggled the handle on one of the doors they hadn’t tried yet. To no one’s surprise, it was locked, so she took the axehead and began to smash it down on the handle. Ragatha set to work on another one of the doors, testing the handle and then starting the process of bashing it off with the shotgun. Jax covered his ears at the sudden noise.

What felt like ages of continuous bashing finally ended when Ragatha and Zooble succeeded in knocking off their door’s handle, with it clanging to the floor in several bent and twisted pieces. Ragatha pulled on the hole where the handle once was and the door opened with a crunch.

Ragatha: Yes!

Zooble: I’ll be d@##ed.

Pomni: Oh, good work guys! *puts down the axehead, panting with exertion* Okay, let’s go in and help…

Ragatha: Wait, what about Jax- oh.

Jax snorted in his sleep, kicking his uninjured foot and slumping a little further down the wall.

Pomni: Looks like he’ll be okay for a little while. *she smiles* I’m glad he could get at least a little rest…

Zooble: You know, this is pretty much what he acts like even when he isn’t tripping on monster venom…

The three of them chortled, but it died down quickly. They had work to do. Ragatha opened the door and they slipped inside, Zooble carrying the empty gun just in case.

They exited into what appeared to be a forest, the door attached to a brick wall, the only man made structure in the vicinity. It slammed shut behind them. The ivy-snared trees stretched high out of view, the suffocating canopy of leaves blocking just about all natural light. The grass was overgrown and clumpy, so tall that Pomni had to push it out of the way to keep it from getting in her mouth. Crickets and other insects chirred, and the entire area had the dense smell of wet moss.

Zooble: Hmm. *they hold up their hand and claw, calling out* HEY GANGLE?! KINGER?! YOU OUT THERE?

In the distance, there was another shout. Too high pitched and delicate to be the echo of Zooble’s voice.

Ragatha: Gangle!

The three of them took off into the woods. Pomni could hardly see an inch in front of her due to the tall, knotted grass, and her foot soon snagged on a root and she fell forward.

Pomni: OOF!

The jester swore to herself and began to pick herself up off the ground, only to squeak when a pair of hands wrapped about her midsection and hoisted her into the air. She was seated down on a pair of plush shoulders, a tangle of red curls and a purple bow between her legs.

Ragatha: *smiling up at her* Watch your head, okay?

Ragatha continued running, Pomni leaning onto her head for support. The jester felt her face warm up despite the cool air rushing by her cheeks. This was much better… She had no idea Ragatha was that strong.

The group continued onward, following Gangle’s cries, until they came onto a clearing between two mighty trees. Strung between them was a spider web, woven with thick yet gossamer threads to be about the size of a California king bed. In the middle hung Gangle, her body a mess of knots and her lips quavering. She gasped upon seeing the three of them.

Gangle: Guys! You made it… please get me down, I don’t know when she’s coming back…

Zooble: Okay, hold still. Pomni, you’re the tallest right now, break the threads.

Zooble handed Pomni the gun, and she stuck the barrels of it up towards one of the threads holding Gangle in place.

Gangle: Th-That thing isn’t loaded is it?!

Ragatha: Gangle, we wouldn’t do that to you- ow my neck.

Pomni: Sorry Ragatha…

The canopy above them whispered ever so slightly, a few dead leaves drifting down upon them. Gangle looked up as best she could and gasped.

Gangle: She’s coming, please get me down, guys, please!

Pomni hit one of the silk threads with the barrel of the gun, and it stuck fast. Pomni yanked on the stock of the weapon, but the threads stretched taut like bungee cords. A 12-foot long spindly black leg emerged from the treeline above them with slow, surgical precision, testing its grip on one of the parallel tree trunks before settling it down.

Zooble: That’s a big-@$$ spider…

Pushing through the leaves and branches emerged an arachnid, jet black and the size of a rhinoceros. A cluster of eight, milky white fish egg eyes sat on her almost disproportionately small head. Her pincers clicked together greedily as she climbed on eight light and nimble feet down to the web.

Gangle: Help me! Help me, please, help me!

Ragatha: Pomni, get the gun unstuck!

Pomni: I’m really trying! It’s like steel wire!

Pomni was on her feet by this point, balancing on Ragatha’s shoulders and pulling on the shotgun as hard as she could. Her gloves slipped and she was sent flying backwards off of Ragatha’s shoulders, who had to rapidly spin her arms for balance. The shotgun remained stuck to the web, the spider advancing past it towards Gangle, frothy drool dribbling onto her mask.

Gangle: NO! GO AWAY!

Ragatha: Hold on Gangle! I’m coming!

Ragatha, using her height to her advantage, crouched and jumped up, grabbing onto the shotgun with one hand. Her legs pinwheeled in the air. The enormous spider was jostled about as she prepared to sink her fangs into Gangle, stumbling and turning her ghostly eyes towards Ragatha.

Pomni: *just now climbing to her feet# Ragatha wait, don’t get stuck!

Ragatha: I’m not gonna get stuck, I-

The rag doll lifted up her other arm to grasp the shotgun, pulling the trigger by mistake. Instead of the expected click of the hammer striking an empty chamber, there was a deafening bang and a muzzle flash the size of a manhole cover. The gun fired, catapulting Ragatha back onto the grass and sending buckshot directly into the spider’s face, breaking a few threads of her web.

The arachnid’s head burst like a rotten melon, chunky, bright white slurry pouring from the stump that was left behind. Her legs twitched a few times before she tumbled off and hit the overgrown forest floor, her legs curling up. Stone dead.

Gangle: YOU SAID IT WASN’T LOADED!

Zooble: IT WASN’T LOADED!

Gangle: *practically sobbing# YOU ALMOST SHOT ME!!!

Zooble: IT. WASN’T. LOADED! It’s a double-barreled shotgun! What, did another shell just APPEAR in the barrel?!

Pomni snapped the gun open after a few tries as Ragatha worked on getting Gangle down from the web. A spent shell casing, smoking hot, dropped onto the grass, along with a live one.

Pomni: I guess it did just appear in the barrel… *puts the live round back into the gun and snaps it closed*

The gunshot had ripped through a few of the threads in the spider’s web, making it much easier to pull Gangle free now that a lot of the tautness was gone. Ragatha only had to reach up on her tiptoes to grab Gangle by one of her ribbons and yank her free. The pile of ribbons fell into Ragatha’s arms and promptly burst into tears, full-on spouts of water erupting from the eyeholes of her mask.

Zooble: Ah… Gangle, I’m sorry, we really didn’t know it was loaded…

Ragatha: Zooble used both shots on their own monster, we never reloaded it… it must replenish ammo on its own…

Gangle sniffled and sobbed a few more times before managing to calm herself down enough to speak.

Gangle: I-I believe you… I was just… it was so scary… I was stuck up there for ages waiting for her to come back, I screamed and I screamed for help and I thought it was never gonna come…

Pomni: …All of us are scared, Gangle. But once we find Kinger and I complete my challenge, it’ll be over.

Gangle: *wet sniffle* Challenge..?

Pomni: Yeah. All of us completed a puzzle room like this… well, I actually sort of skipped mine. Long story. Let’s just go back to the nexus…

Zooble: The what?

Pomni: The room with all the doors. It’s called a nexus I think.

Ragatha: Very Metroidvania of you, Pomni. *she smiles, then looks down at Gangle, still a pile in her arms# Can you walk, Gangle?

Gangle: Um… I don’t know…

Ragatha: Don’t sweat it. I’ll carry you to the nexus. You’re pretty light.

Gangle: …Thank you.

The four of them walked back to the door. The chilly air and ambience of the forest was nearly soothing on the group’s inflamed nerves. Pomni pushed her way through the tall grass; it was manageable when she didn’t need to run full tilt, but a part of her wished she was back on Ragatha’s shoulders.

Zooble: Let’s hope Jax hasn’t wandered off.

Gangle: Jax is with you guys..? Is he okay?

Ragatha: He’s- Well… he’s hurt, but okay. He got bitten by his monster and we think it may have been venomous or something, because he’s acting really loopy.

Zooble: It’s kind of entertaining.

They reached the solitary brick wall. Zooble reached out to open the door, but someone pulled it open from the other side.

Zooble: Kinger..!

The eldest member of the group stood on the other side of the door, trembling more than usual. In his left hand he held a meat cleaver, stained with something blue. Flecks of the same blue substance stained his face, gloves and robe.

Kinger: Glad to know you…

The four of them cautiously slipped by Kinger back into the Nexus. They were soon hit by the putrid smell of rotten corn and winced. Jax was exactly where they left him, sleeping like a rock.

Gangle: It smells really bad in here…

Pomni: I know, it’s Jax… he got it probably the worst out of all of us. *she leans the shotgun against the wall# B-But what happened to you, Kinger? You killed your monster?

Kinger: Monster..?

Pomni: Uh, yeah, in your escape room…?

Kinger: I… I remember books…

Ragatha: Books? *she sets Gangle down*

Kinger: Books and- and black candles- and cheesecake… *puts his hands to the side of his head*

Zooble: Okay, okay Kinger. Sounds like you had a rough go of things… Just gonna…

Zooble took the cleaver from Kinger’s hand with no resistance.

Kinger: I need my pillows…

Ragatha: We’re going to get you your pillows as soon as we get out of here, okay? You saved us a whole lot of time by finishing your puzzle on your own.

Gangle: Hey…

Ragatha: No, I didn’t mean it lik-

Pomni tuned out the conversation to stare at one of the doors. It seemed to be drawing her towards it… almost whispering to her.

Pomni: *Points to it* That’s my door. It was made for me.

Everyone stopped and looked at the door with Pomni. Jax blearily opened his eyes, curiously tilting his head at what everyone was looking at.

Ragatha: Well… with all six of us, it shouldn’t be that hard to finish, right?

Zooble: More like five, since Jax is… indisposed.

Jax: Who are you calling in this clothes?! These are MY clothes!

Pomni went and picked up the shotgun, double checking the shells. One spent, one live. One shot. She sighed and snapped it closed.

Pomni: Let’s get this over with… Zooble, you can probably use the cleaver to- HUUUUUAAAAAAHHHHH!

Pomni felt herself yanked backwards with enough force to give her whiplash. She rocketed towards her door, which swung itself open to swallow her up.

Ragatha: POMNI-!

Even if Ragatha had perfect timing, she couldn’t have caught up to her girlfriend in time. By the time she had taken three steps, the jester was across the threshold and the door slammed shut with a teeth-chattering bang, locking itself.

——

Pomni awoke in darkness. Her head swam, and her upset equilibrium couldn’t tell if she was sitting up or hanging upside down. She felt around in the dark, her gloved hand grasping the shotgun laying beside her. So she was right side up, good start.

There was a clunk somewhere and she was blinded, covering her eyes with the back of her hand. A tinny buzz signaled that she was under some lights. She felt her pupils constrict painfully as she squinted at her surroundings.

It was an office. An almost perfect imitation of symmetrical, focus-grouped blandness. The cheap carpet beneath her was an inoffensive green, the walls sterile, corporate white, and the drop ceiling above her lit with fluorescent, brain-itching lights. A few posters showing nonsensical cartoons sparsely decorated the walls. One had a man throwing a fish back into the lake he just caught it from with “Keep on The On Keeping On” overlaid over the sky in impact font, another showing an orange house cat looking up curiously at a T-Rex, with the quote “If at First You Don’t Succeed, Bite Off Your Tongue and Change Your Name to Xerxes” on the bottom, attributed to Buster Keaton.

There was a large table set up between the two rows of cubicles, empty bowls that may have contained chips or punch sitting on them, with a few cheap pink party hats and paper plates littering the floor. It wasn’t at all clear what the party was celebrating, the only clue being a lone greeting card laying on the table. Pomni brought along the shotgun and picked up the card. It was totally blank on the front apart from some words written in silver.

Pomni: “To our new Employee.” *she flips it open*

“The time for riddles has since passed,

For you are the very last.

We present to you a terror pure

That, by yourself, you must endure.”

One of the tiles on the drop ceiling was knocked loose, falling onto a desk and snapping in two. An arm emerged from the hole in the ceiling, a long, purple arm with a bright yellow glove on the end.

Pomni: Jax?

Another arm emerged from the ceiling, this one soft and plush, a hand with three fingers…

Voice: Pom… niiiiii…

Pomni: Oh my god…

A head emerged from the dark, or rather, two heads. Jax and Ragatha’s heads, squished together cheek-to-cheek and sloppily melted into one another like plastic. Their eyes were blank and staring, the middle eye fused together with Jax’s yellow sclera bleeding into Ragatha’s white, their mouth a single, grotesque combination of Jax’s yellow teeth and Ragatha’s sweet painted smile. Their entire body below the chest was a mass of squirming black flesh and multicolored eyes, exactly the same as Kaufmo’s was. Abstracted.

Creature: Pom…niiii….

It fell from the drop ceiling onto the floor, out of sight behind the cubicles. Pomni, her hands quaking, aimed at the cubicles with the shotgun, doing her best to look down the ironsights without dropping it. She only had one shot…

The creature rounded the corner slowly, dragging its combined weight on just its hands. The black abstracted goo stuck to the floor behind it and left a nauseating snail-trail. The creature mewled in agony.

Creature: Pom… ni…. It hurts…

Pomni: …

The creature leapt forward and grabbed the barrel of the gun, pushing it out of the way and grabbing onto Pomni’s leg. A disgusting, earthworm-like tongue shot out of its mouth and wrapped around her leg as it whined piteously.

Creature: Pom… niiii… why didn’t you… save us… please… make it stop….

Pomni: Okay.

Pomni pressed the muzzle of the gun to the creature’s dual foreheads, and it barely had time to look confused before Pomni pulled the trigger and blasted off the top of its head. There was a squidgy explosion of black abstraction goo that rained down on the cheap green floors and into the food bowls. The amalgamated creature, the top of its head now a fine oily paste, slid to the ground off of Pomni’s leg. Pomni stepped back, looking up at the ceiling.

Pomni: …You wanted me to run, right? You wanted me to run away. I… I think I’m done with that. There’s no point in running, right? Because there’s no escape. Running only makes things worse, delays the inevitable. Well. Mission accomplished, I guess. You scared me. But I killed your little monster. So… I’d like to get back to my nightmare now.

She dropped the gun on the floor and opened the exit door, closing it behind her politely.

——

Back on the digital beach, Caine and Bubble were still relaxing. A rift opened up a few feet away and the six performers tumbled out onto the sand.

Jax: Caine! Bubble! My guuuuuuuys- *makes finger guns at them as he flops onto his back, starting to make a sand angel*

Caine: GADZOOKS! YOU ALL MADE IT OUT OF THERE! CONGRATULATIONS ON DEFEATING THE FIRST EVER PROCEDURALLY GENERATED ADVENTURE!

Caine snapped his fingers and the six of them were immediately clean. The hole in Jax’s foot knit closed and he sat up, blinking.

Jax: What the- Wh… where am I? Oh, man, why do I smell so bad… *covers his mouth and where his nose would be#

Layla hopped with joy and went over to Kinger, who caught her in his hands and pet her.

Kinger: Layla! So good to see you…

Pomni: Hold on. Procedurally generated?

Caine: THAT’S RIGHT, POMNI! USING OUR CLASSIFIED DEFINITELY LEGAL TECHNOLOGY, MY NEW AI PROBED YOUR BRAINS TO-

Pomni: You… left us in that h€!!hole… didn’t even bother to check on us… nearly let us die… and you didn’t even make it yourself. You spent… ALL OF TODAY just sitting on a BEACH?!

Caine: …………Well, everyone deserves a break now and then-

With a howl of Barbarian rage, Pomni grabbed the meat cleaver from Zooble’s claw and took a swing at Caine.

Caine: WOAH! HEY NOW, TAKE IT EASY-

Pomni: I’M GONNA STAB YOU TO DEATH AND PLAY IN YOUR BLOOD!

Caine: I DON’T HAVE ANY BLOOD- *ducks another swipe* HEY, WAIT-

Pomni continued to chase Caine around the beach with the knife, the ringmaster pitifully trying to calm the madwoman down. The performers watched the chaos with some gratification. Bubble slid them a bucket of seashells.

Bubble: You guys want one?

Everyone: No.

Bubble: More for me! *he downs the entire bucket in one go*

Caine: WATCH THE COAT! WATCH THE COAT-

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #buttonblossom #jax x pomni #pomni x ragatha #oh no cringe #horror #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #tadc caine #tadc bubble

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