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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months

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Could you write something where Danny is a teen dad to de aged Ellie? Bonus points if he lives in Crimr Alley and beats the Joker to a pulp for hurting his kid

Danny is trying his best.

It's not easy being a father at age sixteen. It's not easy having to leave his home in fear of what his parents will do to his clone-turned-daughter.

It's not easy watching her every day, wondering if her core will break down further, and instead of just de-aging this time, she'll end up dead. It's not easy worrying about her health in the most crime-infested city with a terrible job and relying on his pitiful check or the funds his sister can sneak to him.

But nothing good in this world is easy, and he wouldn't trade Dani for anything. Yes, she had lost her memories and acted like a real two-year-old, but he adored watching her eyes light up as she relearned the world.

Danny loved her to bits, and even buying her those cheap coloring books and crayons from the dollar store made Dani smile brighter than any star. They may struggle to pay rent and bills or buy food, but Danny can always scrape by, keeping her warm, fed, and house.

He worked at three different dinners, each part-time, since none of them were legally allowed to hire him full-time because of his age. Danny didn't have a single day off, but he had a few hours every day with Dani, which was enough.

While he worked, he asked his next-door neighbor to watch Dani. Now, it may not be the best thing to trust a stranger with his daughter but said neighbor is a ghost and one of the friendly kind.

Danny met her when he first moved in. Apparently, her haunting was one of the reasons the rent was so cheap. She never gave him her real name, but she stayed with Dani all day and had enough ectoplasm to physically touch things. Danny could sense her intentions with his core and knew her motherly adoration for Dani was authentic.

Privately, Danny called her Three since she haunted apartment three, and she sort of looked like she stepped out of the nineteen-thirties, complete with an attractive Transatlantic accent. She was an up-and-coming radio co-host, taking a segment to read stories to housewives before being murdered in her home.

Three never said why or how it happened, but she had been haunting the apparent complex for so long; her lore was well documented among the locals.

They say one of the Waynes had killed her after learning that his wife had fancied Three. But it was never proven and it became another theory that the rich would laugh at every once in a while.

(Three's face always twisted whenever she heard the name Wayne. Her hand would always reach up for a heart-shaped locket she refused to take off even in death.)

Since most people couldn't see ghosts unless exposed to ectoplasm for enough time, the stories of her attacks on anyone trying to get close to her apartment snowballed out of control. Danny thought it was unfair how evil they made her sound. Though it's true she had a strong distaste for men, she had a soft spot for children.

Danny had just been through the wringer; he had double shifts, one stacked right after the other. One of the dinners had let two people go after they had been arrested for moving illegal substances, and Danny had to cover until they found a replacement.

A woman had yelled at him for almost thirty minutes straight about a wait time for her surprise party of fifteen. A man threw up on their counter, and to top it all off, a kid had run into him while he was carrying a tray of food, causing him to spill everything.

Thankfully, the mother was horrified and apologized profoundly, but it had been almost too much for him. So when he was sweeping up broken plates and saw Three franticly flying at him screaming about some clown, well, Danny was doing his best.

And his best was fighting things far stronger than he.

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Jim Gordon's early afternoon gets interrupted by the Joker only three minutes after he is supposed to head home for the day. After escaping from Arkham a few months ago, the clown went to the ground, and everyone was nervous about what he was planning.

Jim's team hadn't heard any whispers or had any idea what the Joker was up to, which made everything worse. Usually, when something big and wrong was going to happen, they would catch at least one thing beforehand.

That's why the sudden broadcast of the lunatic had everyone jumping out of their skins.

"Good evening, Gotham. I want to welcome you to tonight's show. It's going to be killer." Joker cackles. He has somehow hacked into almost every screen in the city, his white devilish face appearing on TVs, phones, tablets, and even roadside advertising.

His voice echoes through the city as Jim barks at his employees to trace the signal.

"Recently, I felt it necessary to remind everyone that one is never too young to have a funny bone." The Joker continues, holding up a plush toy to the camera. He waves it a little, pressing the ginning bunny as close as possible so people can see its mouth has been sewed into a sickly wide smile. "I'm sure a few of you have noticed that certain school buses never arrived home."

The blood in his veins goes cold. How many buses? Which school? What kids were they? How old? Why had they not heard of the kids not arriving until now?

There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Jim hates how useless he feels playing this sick man's game.

"But not to worry! You'll see your little ones again! After being guests on my very own game show! Every thirty minutes, one lucky child will get to compete for your amusement, and if they survive, they get an extraordinary prize-!"

His words are cut short by a dark figure flinging itself at the Joker and punching him to the ground. Thank every dark cloud in the sky that the Bat was on the case.

"Basty! Have you come to play- wait. You aren't Batsy." Joker's delighted tone melts into anger as the figure straightens to a young teenage boy.

"You have my daughter. Give her back." The teen tells the clown, voice flat and cold. "Three said your goons took her from her balcony."

"My boys take a lot of people." Joker laughs hoping up a flower. With a press of his finger, the teenager is covered in Joker Vemon. Jim's heart falls as the boy stumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. Joker laughs harder until the kid picks up a chair and slams it onto his head.

There wasn't even a chuckle from the boy. Huh.

"You have my daughter. Give. Her. Back."

"Or what?" The Joker taunts, snapping his fingers. There are sounds of people moving, likely the goons. "Kill him."

The boy doesn't seem to react to the men rushing at him. Someone knocks the camera stand over, and the view of the fight is taken away as it rolls on the ground. Thankfully, it ends up pointed at a wall, where they watch the shadows of the teenager and the Joker's goons fight.

It's hard to tell who's winning, with all the shadows blending together whenever they get close, but the fact that he hasn't heard the kid drop yet means he's holding his own. Jim's eyes narrow at the wallpaper, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.

It hits him just as a little girl phases through the wall. Yes, phases, as if walking through it like a ghost. This would make sense since -

"That's Nightowl Apparemtents!" Ricky, the new cop from Crime Alley, cries, echoing Jim's thoughts.

"It's what?" Asks Sara

"Nightowl apparements. It's the oldest place in Crime Alley and one of the most haunted. They said a lover of a Wayne was killed there. She kills anyone who tries to rent the place. They do ghost tours occasionally, but no one dares to her hallway. That wallpaper is famous because it's the only one in Gotham with the original founding families' symbols." Ricky explains, watching the little girl tilt her head and then start to flout. Everyone shivers as a second figure bleeds out of the wall behind her.

This one is much more blurry, but the faith outline of a beautiful woman covered in blood hovers behind the girl staring at the fight. She's dressed in clothes that Jim is sure was decades ago, and unlike the little girl, she makes him feel very unsafe.

The ghost of Apparement three. Barbara had gone through a paranormal phase when she was fifteen and dragged Jim to all the haunted places in Gotham. Nowhere had made him feel as uneased as Gotham's cemetery- the most haunted place- but those apartments were a close second.

The ghost spots the camera, sneering at it and Jim actually jumps back.

"Oh, gods!" Ricky shouts, turning his head away. "I'm so sorry for looking into your eyes without permission!"

"It's not a telephone! It can't hear you, Ricky!"

"That's not the point, Sara!"

"Daddy!" the little girl cries, holding up her finger. "I got an ow-ow."

At once, the sounds of combat stopped, and then the screams began. It's nothing like Jim has ever heard. He's been on the force long enough to know what a human in pain sounds like, and those sounds—well, he prays that the Joker had decided to bring in animals.

If it makes him sick to his stomach he is worried about the regular people watching.

The little girl doesn't look away, tilting her head to the side like a curious child of two would and still holding her tiny up. After a moment, Jim realizes the screaming has stopped. There is silence before Joker falls beside the girl, beaten beyond recognition.

If it weren't for his purple sit, Jim would have thought him a goon.

The little girl doesn't blink an eye as the teenager rushes to her, kicking the Joker.

"Let me the ow-ow." The teenager demands, taking her hand in his. There is a moment of tense silence as the woman's ghost louts around him with a sneer. "A papercut! You gave my daughter a papercut!"

The ghost woman screeches, rage in every part of her cry. Jim feels his heart beating out of his chest, frozen in absolute terror as she reaches down for the Joker and drags him through the floor.

The man's screams are heard even through the muffled flooring.

"Holy shit," Sara breathes, voice trembling.

"This is why no one with a brain messes with Nightowl's ghost," Ricky hisses, rubbing at his cross. "How that kid go it to attack the Joker and not him and his daughter-"

The teenager gathers the toddler into his arms, his image fading with a hiss.

"-That was a ghost. The teenager that beat the Joker to near death was a ghost." Ricky swallows. "I am never stepping foot down that street again."

Somewhere in Gotham, a woman is sweating bullets after the feed is cut by Batman, who arrives with the rest of the Bats minutes afterward.

"Say, Mom, wasn't that the boy you were yelling at today in Teddy's Diner for Uncle Ron's birthday."

The woman's eyes swing back to the TV, where the waiter's face is frozen on the screen, his green glowing eyes almost staring into her soul. "Yes.....yes it was."

"Oh crud. I think we're cursed now, Mom. Way to go."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Teen parent Danny #De-age Dani #Nightowl Apartment #Three was a Wayne lover but it was a throuple #The Waynes enemies killed her #Danny chilled her murderous rage out with his powers #Gotham is scared of ghosts now #The random Karen thinks the paranormal is coming for her and her kin #Part 1

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taylor-titmouse · 5 months

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The Masson Circle Collection (18+)

OUT NOW!

Even killers can fall in love. Set against a backdrop of early 70s Europe, The Masson Circle is a collection of illustrated queer romance novellas between assassins, thieves, and the criminal mastermind at the middle of them all. Originally released between 2020 and 2021, these three stories have been remastered with revised text, 30 brand new illustrations, and an exclusive bonus story. This collection is roughly 69k words.

All three stories contain some violence, references to alcohol, and explicit sexual content and images. They are intended for adult audiences only. Comes in DRM-free PDF and EPUB formats, and includes an image gallery ZIP containing all book illustrations, plus all the sketchbook content included in the original releases.

Daffodils

Retired assassin Ezra Platt loves his wife, Tessa, more than anything else in the world. For the first time in six years, the two are both in town for their anniversary, which means it has to be made special. What do you get the woman who is your everything, especially when she's an assassin herself? Perhaps the answer lies in Ezra's memories of meeting her...

18.2k words. Features fem dom, face sitting, and pegging.

Carnations

The Duplessis is hosting its biannual masked bacchanal, and art forger and thief Leonard Lacroix has been hired to empty its safe. Infiltrating the classy gentlemen's club is easy, but when he runs into an old flame, getting out with all he wants is not.

17.4k words. Features gay sex in a private office. Contains the use of a homophobic slur.

Laurels

French couturier Mathieu Masson is a man with one foot in the underworld, the one to call for anything from a killing to a Caravaggio. But when a new client demands what he can't give, he has only his bodyguard, Jean Martin, to lean on.

16k words. Features a trans male lead and tender lovemaking. Contains some queerphobia, and references to child sex abuse in a character's past.

This collection also includes Narcissus, Dianthus, and Sweet Bay, each an extra short story connected to their corresponding book, from the perspective of the love interest. Narcissus explores Tessa's memory of her and Ezra's first night together. Dianthus recalls the time Lionel and Leonard fooled around in a professor's office in college. Sweet Bay takes place just before Laurels' epilogue, as Jean and Mathieu settle into their partnership and open up about themselves. Sweet Bay contains discussion of child sex abuse in a character's past.

Read it today!

#taylor titmouse #the masson circle

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cult-of-the-eye · 7 months

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Obligatory tma halloween headcanons post:

tim and sasha are OBVIOUSLY barbie and ken from the barbie movie (other people have said it before and i'll gladly support it)

martin is some horribly obscure costume from a book or a poem no one really knows about and he gets a bit sad that no one knows who he is but then sasha does a quick google and subtly drops hints to everyone to go be like "heyyyy martin, amazing x costume" and then he cheers up

jon just refuses to dress up and everyone (especially Tim) bullies him like "oh amazing socially inept man who's desperately trying to seem good at his job costume!! you've got it spot on!!" and he's so furious that he puts on a costume

and in every iteration of these headcanons, martin is FLOORED at whatever he eventually dresses up as and i am all for that i will eat that shit up

he's so starved for interactions with his crush that he goes feral over jon in non-office clothes

favourite jon costumes include: normal clothes plus cat ears, normal clothes and everyone thinks he's come as a vampire, normal clothes in the later seasons and sasha would be like "jon its not ok for you to dress up as a homeless person" with a shit eating grin and jon's like ...what

bonus - jon doesn't need to dress up cause he's already got his costume - it's someone who's good at their job!!

elias LOVES halloween i bet that man is like fuck yeah i can freak out my archival workers in a whole host of new ways - plastic spiders around the office for jon, little clown dolls for tim, eyes EVERYWHERE and its so gaudy and terrible and everyone despises him

also he really doubles down on calling jon the archivist

i feel like tim secretly hates halloween now but in like early working at the institute, he went along with it cause martin put out a little pumpkin on his desk and sasha smiled at it

melanie fucking loves halloween, she's a legitimately terrifying costume, let's go through the haunted house kinda gal and i love that for her. she's a lets watch all three human centipedes in one night and see what happens kinda gal

daisy and basira despise it cause of all the weird shit that people pull on halloween (and they're on edge that they'll be called for some section 31 shit for all of it)

jon also hates halloween for a similar reason - the increase of joke statements and general taking the piss about the magnus institute

yeah that's all i got. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #jmart #tim stoker #sasha james #elias bouchard #alice daisy tonner #basira hussain #section 31 #halloween headcanons #melanie king #jonmartin #please add your own

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mcelroyfamilystaff · 3 months

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It's MaxFunDrive! If you're already a MaxFun Member, all of this year's Bonus Content should be in your feed already - this year's TAZ BoCo is a one shot of Plato's Rave, with all three boys GMing while Clint is the only PC, and it is ART. The MBMBaM BoCo is a recording of the boys trying to figure out how to run that game, and it's so, so fun - honestly you could listen to either one first and I think it would work well, but imo listening to them plot how they think things will go first is a very fun way to go about it.

Sawbones has another Kid's Q&A this year, with Charlie guest-hosting along Syd and answering questions from young listeners, Shmanners has an episode and video all about emojis, and Wonderful! has a one-off return to Rose Buddies! If you're not a member yet and you wanna listen to all this great stuff, head on over to MaximumFun.org/Join and sign up at $5 or more a month! You'll get access to not just this year's Bonus Content, but all of the Bonus Content from every show, from every year we've done the Drive. There's a TAZ episode DM'ed by Matt Mercer, the Charlieverse episodes, the Prankee Doodle Dandy episode of MBMBaM, truly an abundance of s-tier goofs await!

Also we have so much other stuff planned for the Drive! We're gonna be streaming more or less daily on YouTube, starting with Griffin doing a Fuser DJ stream today at 10am ET, and then Justin and Sydnee streaming watching a buckwild Netflix movie, I Believe in Santa, around 1pm ET.

On top of all of that, we've set our own bonus goals for the Drive, starting with this: At 3,000 new & upgrading members, Fungalore will hear your wishes LIVE. What does that mean? That's such a good question. Only one way to find out! If you wanna see the rest of our goals, you can check 'em out here. If you want to stay up to date on everything we have going on this week, turn on notifications for our Instagram story, that's where we'll be posting all the time-sensitive stuff.

Last but not least, thank you. Truly, from the bottom of all of our hearts. Whether you can afford to join or not, y'all's support is the reason we all get to do this for a living, and it genuinely is a joy to get to spend our days making these goofy things in hopes of bringing a little levity to someone's day. Means the absolute fuckin' world to us. We hope you have an absolute blast during this Drive, you deserve it.

#mcelroys #mbmbam #my brother my brother and me #the adventure zone #taz #justin mcelroy #travis mcelroy #griffin mcelroy #tumblr 'sclusies #maxfundrive

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mfshipbracket · 1 year

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welcome to ghost mod's thought experiment, the m/f ship bracket bonus round where every single m/f ship from the original round is pit against reylo of the 97/3 #shreksweep infamy.

why, you ask? mostly cuz of this.

they're going from lowest to highest per the original rankings, starting off with our newcomers adam/eve. 9 polls per day will roll out on queue throughout the est evening from may 12th-18th! after polls are closed one week later, i will post the final rankings of who swept the hardest (or failed to sweep...)

all polls can be found under the #bonus round tag, and this masterpost also contains links to each specific poll. there is also a spreadsheet with current bonus round standings and stats from the original bracket if you like numbers. :)

disclaimer: not a reylo hater. i'm just ardently devoted to the bit

DAY ONE

1. Adam/Eve (The Bible) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 2. Barbie/Ken (Barbie) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 3. Branch/Poppy (TROLLS) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 4. Hori/Kashima (Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 5. Naegi/Kirigiri (Dangan Ronpa) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 6. Fakir/Ahiru (Princess Tutu) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 7. Jake/Amy (Brooklyn 99) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 8. Sonic/Amy (Sonic the Hedgehog) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 9. Vax'ildan/Keyleth (Critical Role/TLOVM) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars)

DAY TWO

10. Barry Bluejeans/Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 11. Westley/Buttercup (The Princess Bride) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 12. Lucas/Max (Stranger Things) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 13. Bella Swan/Edward Cullen (Twilight) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 14. Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa (Six of Crows) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 15. Zagreus/Megaera (Hades) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 16. Greg/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 17. Orpheus/Eurydice (Hadestown) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 18. Sans/Toriel (Undertale) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars)

DAY THREE

19. Megamind/Roxanne (Megamind) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 20. Inuyasha/Kagome (Inuyasha) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 21. Mamoru/Usagi (Sailor Moon) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 22. Anne/Gilbert (Anne with an E) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 23. Mako/Raleigh (Pacific Rim) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 24. Nancy/Jonathan (Stranger Things) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 25. Wanda/Vision (Marvel/MCU) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 26. Aragorn/Arwen (Lord of the Rings) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 27. Rayla/Callum (The Dragon Prince) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars)

DAY FOUR

X. Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars VS King Charles/Camilla (United Kingdom) 28. Anakin/Padme (Star Wars) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 29. Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sharma (Bridgerton) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 30. Percy/Vex'ahlia (Critical Role/TLOVM) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 31. Kyo/Tohru (Fruits Basket) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 32. Batman/Catwoman (DC) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 33. Tenth Doctor/Rose (Doctor Who) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 34. Cassian/Jyn (Star Wars) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 35. Joyce/Hopper (Stranger Things) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 36. Aang/Katara (ATLA) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars)

DAY FIVE

37. Mermista/Seahawk (She-ra and the Princesses of Power) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 38. Robin/Starfire (DC/Teen Titans) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 39. Tamaki/Haruhi (Ouran High School Host Club) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 40. Mulder/Scully (The X-Files) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 41. Glimmer/Bow (She-ra and the Princesses of Power) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 42. Zuko/Katara (ATLA) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 43. Steven/Connie (Steven Universe) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 44. Han/Leia (Star Wars) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 45. Beast Boy/Raven (DC/Teen Titans) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars)

DAY SIX

46. Edward/Winry (Fullmetal Alchemist) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 47. Peter/MJ (Marvel/MCU) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 48. Katniss/Peeta (The Hunger Games) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 49. Marinette/Adrien (Miraculous Ladybug) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 50. Kim Possible/Ron Stoppable (Kim Possible) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 51. Darcy/Elizabeth (Pride and Prejudice) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 52. Roy/Riza (Fullmetal Alchemist) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 53. Miles Morales/Gwen Stacy (Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 54. Zelda/Link (Zelda Series) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars)

DAY SEVEN

55. Twilight/Yor (Spy X Family) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 56. Sokka/Suki (ATLA) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 57. Hunter/Willow (The Owl House) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 58. Chidi/Eleanor (The Good Place) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 59. Ms. Piggy/Kermit (The Muppets) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 60. Rapunzel/Eugene (Tangled) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 61. Howl/Sophie (Howl’s Moving Castle) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 62. Percy/Annabeth (Percy Jackson Series) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) 63. Morticia/Gomez (The Addams Family) VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars)

#mf ship bracket #mf ship bracket 2023 #bonus round #character tournament #ship tournament #ship bracket #tumblr poll #yea i didn't HAVE to post VS Kylo Ren/Rey (Star Wars) for every single one #but ctrl+c and ctrl+v is real. and i thought it'd be funny. just to drive the theme of this bonus round home #if i made any mistakes here. do correct me but have mercy i'm experiencing the horrors rn #anti-reylo

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desperate-acts-of-capitalism · 10 months

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Big Things Are Here!

After a long incubation period, our executive team is back and better than ever with a new twist in the product you know and love.

That's right! We here at DAOC have been working around the clock with local growers to bring you the next season of homestyle business and economics comedy podcasting!

Our discerning Patreon subscribers can access this quality product THIS FRIDAY AUGUST 4th!

That also comes with the regular bonus content! Along with a whole side podcast we cooked up during the pandemic and never released!

For our everyday shoppers, the new episode will be posted free-of-charge FRIDAY AUGUST 11th, in all the same places you used to listen to us!

But wait! There's more!

Our R&D department has cooked up a killer new product feature! Thats right! DAOC now has

THREE HOSTS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE!

That's 30% more podcast per podcast! What a deal! We just know you'll enjoy this new addition to our corporate family! We sure do!

BUY NOW! and remember:

Big Things Are Coming!

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impale-me-radio-daddy · 9 days

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The Lookalike (Epilogue, Acknowledgments and Requests)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awakened in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fell into the clutches of his nemesis, before stumbling into the arms of the Radio Demon himself. A whole lot of fucking later, you became the catalyst for something resembling a reconciliation, and now you're back in the TV Demon's private quarters with both Vox and Alastor, hung over and sore.

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit sexual content, Vox X reader, Alastor X reader, Vox X Alastor, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.

☒ Series Links: Now completed! Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

The thing about Hell was that your internal body clock woke you after only a couple hours of sleep, just enough of the alcohol out of your system that your head throbbed and the rich bittersweet taste of last night’s whiskey had been transmuted with the alchemy of the morning after, the interior of your mouth now tasting of rancid orange peel and dirt. You lay splayed across the couch, Alastor’s tailcoat covering your nakedness, its red unmarred by the blood it had soaked up, your head in Alastor’s lap, your hooves in Vox’s lap.

Consciousness brought with it the awareness of the various injuries you had acquired, the fullness of your bladder, and the generalized muscular ache that was probably from all the wall-climbing you’d done. You were also filthy, your whole body faintly sticky like a budding rhododendron. You moved to get up, but found Alastor’s arm around you.

“-very dear to me,” mumbled Alastor, the radio filter almost entirely missing from his hoarse, sleepy voice, and his claws wrapped around your shoulder, hard.

“Darling. I have to piss,” you croaked, stroking Alastor’s fingers, and he gave a noise of irritation, his red eyes opening a fraction, but his grip loosened and you pulled yourself free.

Brushing away Alastor’s shadow’s hand as it snagged at your hoof, you staggered naked across Vox’s small living space, to where you remembered the bathroom to be, and took a piss that felt like it lasted at least a minute and a half, your head throbbing all the while. The things that Vox had brought for you during your short stay were still there; the little blue toothbrush, the showercap with room for your ears, the robe.

You brushed your teeth, drank several cups of water from the tap, and ate a Tylenol before grabbing the bottle of deer shampoo from the cabinet and stepping into the shower.

Vox’s shower was large, enough to comfortably fit three or more people, the flooring some kind of expensive looking stone tiling that was probably fiendishly difficult to get blood out of, and the showerheads set at chest height. You hesitated at the shower controls- which button turned the water on, again?

“You, uh- you want some help with that?” Vox stood at the entryway to the shower, wearing only pants and looking pretty much exactly like you felt.

“Sure,” you sighed, not really surprised when Vox stripped off the rest of the way and stepped into the space with you.

A gesture from him was all it took for the water to start running, no uncomfortably hot or cold initial flow but something close to body temperature. You stepped into the stream, sighing as it hit you, the water swirling a brownish color around your feet as it began to wash away the blood that had caked onto your skin.

“Temperature?” Vox asked, stepping closer.

“Warmer,” you said, an involuntary noise in your throat as Vox made it so. It stung the lacerations on your back, the small wounds on your hips and thighs, the scrapes that Alastor’s teeth had made on your neck.

“You like that?” Vox asked.

“Warmer,” you repeated, and the temperature rose to something crueler, enough that steam rose as it hit your skin, a truly scouring sort of heat. You felt your soreness recede, a little of the tension in your shoulders relaxing. “There,” you said, content to stand under the water for a few moments before uncapping the shampoo you had brought in with you.

“Let me?” Vox asked, and there was a little of the Vox who had sat in the armchair in your bedroom in his voice, pleading. You handed him the bottle, and he unhooked a second showerhead from the wall and turned it on, wetting your hair with a trickle of warm water before he lathered shampoo between his palms. It was strange; anyone else save Alastor and you might’ve had second thoughts, but Vox had had you last night, quivering and vulnerable in his hands, so you had no qualms turning your back to him.

Vox’s hands in your hair were a gift. You stood under the stream of near-scalding water as he drew close, his fingers running from the back of your neck and up, fingers parting your hair, massaging the lather into your skull. You groaned low as he worked the base of each ear, his body pressing closer to your back. He was hard, his cock brushing up against your tail and the small of your back, but there was no threat to it, no intent beyond simple closeness.

“That good, eh?” he asked, as you gave another appreciative grunt, and you braced yourself against the wall to avoid melting completely under the touch.

“You’re making me forget about my headache,” you said, which was rewarded by Vox pressing his fingers more firmly against your skull, more head massage than shampoo application. “Don’t you have things to do?”

“It is five fuckin’ thirty am,” said Vox, his voice thick and hoarse, and he leaned into you, his chest pressing warm against your narrow back, his erection squashing temptingly against the meat of your ass. “I’m all yours, baby deer.”

It would be so easy to let him fuck you like this- even as hungover as he clearly was, he was strong enough to lift you against the wall of the shower and fuck you against it until you were whimpering and quivering, your orgasm smoothing the edges of this rough and difficult morning. It would feel good.

But no. No fucking. Only Vox’s soapy hands in your hair, rubbing your back-tilted ears until you wanted to purr, his thumbs experimental around the base of your antlers. He told you to close your eyes before he raised the spare showerhead to rinse you off, the water dark, even the soap bubbles brownish as the blood was sluiced away. Vox repeated the process twice more before the water ran clear, finger combing your hair to check for errant viscera.

“I don’t need you to wash my back for me, you know,” you said, as Vox put the shampoo aside and reached for the bodywash.

“Course you don��t,” he said, eyes narrowed, and for a second his grin reminded you of Alastor’s. “But you fuckin’ like it, don’t you? You like my hands-” he said, rubbing soap into your flank, then tracing a line down, over your thigh. “My mouth.”

You opened one eye. “I hope you’re not proposing to lick me clean.”

The glazed expression on Vox’s face, along with the way his antennae flopped, told you that yes, yes he would very much like that, his gaze drifting to between your thighs, the faint trickle of Alastor’s cum mixed with his as it leaked out of you and mixed with the water from the shower.

Vox swallowed. “Please,” he groaned. “Fuck, please, baby deer. Just a little. Don’t make me fuckin’ beg.”

“I’m not making you do anything, Vox,” you said, a sidelong look at him. The steam from the shower was fogging his screen, droplets of the splashback running down the front of his wide face like sweat, and his eyes were wide. “You’re begging of your own accord.”

You put your palm on Vox’s grey-skinned shoulder and pushed him down. He sank to his knees, obedient, the water on your back slowing to a trickle, still under his control. His eyes weren’t hearts but they might as well have been with the expression he made as he reached out to touch your thighs, pulling his face close to your legs, his long blue tongue extending.

Vox’s tongue against wet skin was a new sensation; a crackling pressure that conducted over a wider area than his tongue touched as he lapped blissfully at the rivulets of diluted cum that ran out of you. You shivered, and breathed in as you watched him eat, running a hand over the top of his screen, your claws gentle on the fragile antennae that sprouted from it.

Vox whimpered as you held the tip of his antennae between thumb and fingertip, and it occurred to you, belatedly, that maybe these were analogous to antlers for him. You stopped touching them, returning to stroking his frame. His hand found yours, your fingers twining, and you knew that if you asked him he would fuck you with his tongue, lap every last drop of Alastor’s seed from your aching cunt and drink it down like a man starved.

“Please-” he whined, looking up at you between strokes of his tongue.

“You know,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Alastor has very sharp hearing, and he was mostly awake when I got up. He can definitely hear us right now.” You paused to take a breath as you felt Vox freeze, his tongue still on your thigh. “He definitely heard you begging me to let you lick his cum from my legs.”

Vox’s eyes fluttered closed, a low groan in his throat. “Fuck.”

“Tell me,” you said, pushing him a little as his tongue swept up your leg, perilously close to your sex. “Tell me what you’re begging for now.”

Vox’s voice came as a stream of consciousness as you squeezed the top of his screen, hard enough that colors distorted around the pads of your fingers, his breath in gasps as he tasted you between each word, a prayer to you, a prayer to Alastor. “Fuck, yes, please, I fucking want it, oh god, fucking god, let me, let me, please please, let me taste him. I wanna taste him in your pussy, oh god.” He swallowed, whimpering, cock finding friction against your leg, and he trembled. “God-” Vox’s eyes sprang open as he came, his body jerking as he shot his load over your hooves. “Fuck-” he breathed, softly, his screen tilting against your thigh.

You were gentle with him as you pulled him to his feet, letting him lean against you as he came down from his high. You rubbed his back, his shoulders, and the edges of his screen, eliciting soft groans from him, and he nudged his face into your shoulder before you grabbed the soap and started to lather it into his chest.

As if realizing where he was, Vox started the water running at full pressure again. When you had finished him he washed your back for you without complaint, merely a pleading look in his eyes as he scrubbed you down, the runoff going from dark brown to pink as the ablution opened a few of your newer injuries, his hands gentle enough on you to make you sigh and forget your hangover for another few seconds.

When you emerged from the bathroom, toweled dry and dressed in the monogrammed robe Vox had kept for you, you felt almost alive.

“You were in there a while,” Alastor commented from the couch as you emerged, one eye opening, his voice rough and crackling like old vinyl.

“You didn’t want to join us?” you asked, squeezing a little more moisture from your hair.

Alastor shrugged, his lips a tiny smirk. “You seemed to have everything under control,” he said, a statement not lost on Vox, who did not meet his eyes.

Vox’s arm was protective round your waist, or perhaps simply clingy, as the three of you proceeded out of his quarters and into the living area he shared with the other members of his coterie. You sat at the breakfast bar as Vox operated what was perhaps the most complicated coffee machine you had ever seen. Alastor took a seat at the breakfast bar too, his tailcoat on, overdressed compared to you in a robe and Vox in his lounge pants and t-shirt. Alastor’s shadow looked more hung over than he was, sulking in a pool by his feet and clutching its head. Vox seemed to have some level of sympathy for his condition, because he turned to Alastor first.

“So, Al, you want anything? This baby makes a mean fuckin’ macchiato, I’ll tell you that much. We’ve got three types of coffee, too, a Columbian-”

“Coffee,” said Alastor, a grinding edge of almost mechanical stress to his voice. “Make me a coffee.”

Vox sighed. “Americano it is,” he said, setting the machine running with a cheerful beep as he manipulated his way through the menus.

Alastor was sniffing his americano and the expensive looking machine was grinding something in its innards when the door on the lower level opened and a small group of people came in, clearly still mid revelry, brightly colored plastic drink containers in hand. You recognized one of them as the man who had dumped you on Vox’s bedroom floor on your first night in Hell, dressed to the nines in patent leather thigh high boots and a naked effect body-stocking with red sequins that barely covered the essentials. Valentino.

“Ah.” Vox froze with one hand on the coffee machine. “Fuck.”

“Vox?” Valentino’s tone was disbelieving, and he sashayed up the stairs to the breakfast bar to stare at the three of you, lowering his pink glasses dramatically. “What the fuck is this?”

“Val.” Vox hopped the breakfast bar with surprising alacrity, placing himself bodily between you and Valentino, his hands up in a placating gesture. It was unnecessary, all things considered, but sexy. “I can explain.”

Alastor, meanwhile, lowered his ears and hid his face behind his fuck Alastor mug, clearly uncomfortable at being witnessed in Vox’s residence at such an early hour.

“So this is where you’ve been?” Valentino gesticulated. “You don’t take my calls, you say you don’t wanna party with me, all so you can stay home and jerk off onto your pile of Alastor lookalikes?” He turned to Alastor, the real Alastor, his eyes squinting behind his pink glasses. “Where did you even get this one? He looks like shit!”

“Gotta agree with you there,” you deadpanned. “Not a word of English either.”

“Bonjou,” said Alastor, gamely, his voice gruff with the full impact of his night of drinking, his radio filter completely absent.

“You see?” Valentino waved. “You want more Alastors, chulo, you come to me. None of this amateur hour carajo.” He shook his head. “Me and these professionals are going to my room.”

“Val, wait-” Vox called, but Valentino was already on his way out. He stopped, perhaps realizing the futility of it, and rubbed the front of his face with his hand. “Fuck.”

“Is that-” you watched Valentino walk out, shooing the squad of sex workers through the door ahead of him so that he could slam it. “-is that gonna be okay?”

“Fuck knows.” Vox’s shoulders sank, and he walked back to the coffee machine. “It’s hard to tell what he wants sometimes. I mean, first he gives me you, then he’s pissy I’m spending time with you. Does he want me to chase after him? I don’t fucking know anymore.” The machine finished making your drink, and Vox picked it up, vanishing in electricity and arcing to appear behind you. “I know what you want, though,” he purred, his face close enough to your back that the hairs on your neck stood on end, and pushed your coffee in front of you.

You turned your head to grin at him, eyes half-lidded. “A full and unredacted list of the members of my fanclub still extant in Hell?”

“Fuck.” Vox’s expression soured, and he leaned back. “You're all business, aren't you? You know, I preferred it when you were pretending to be stupid.”

“And I preferred it when you had your tongue up my ass,” you said, enjoying the instant of startlement and arousal that flashed across his screen, Alastor smirking into his cup of coffee behind him. “I guess we’re just not our best selves this morning.”

“I liked that too, but I can't just hand you those names, baby deer,” said Vox, leaning on the breakfast bar beside you. “That's not how business works around here. It's about trust.”

“He’s lying,” Alastor interjected, mildly. “He could give you whatever it is you’re talking about, he just doesn’t want to.”

“Oh, butt out, Al,” groused Vox. “I’m not lying. There’s a cost.”

“One which you could well afford to waive,” said Alastor, smiling. “Given our situation.”

“Yeah, and what situation is that?” Vox shot.

He was unprepared as Alastor stood, closing the distance between them and seizing Vox by the front of his shirt, bringing their faces close, not quite touching, but close enough to kiss, or bite. Vox made a noise in his throat, and Alastor grinned, violence in his teeth.

“If you want this to continue,” said Alastor, his voice low menace. “You’re going to have to give our delightful young friend here everything they want. I don’t care what it is, I don’t care what it costs you. Everything.”

“Fuck,” Vox croaked, his eyes wide.

“Well?” said Alastor. “Do we have a deal?”

“This isn’t fair, Al.”

Alastor’s grin was steady. “These things rarely are. Yes or no, old pal?”

“Shit, I’m such a fucking idiot.” Vox closed his eyes. “Yes.”

Alastor set Vox down gently, a sly wink to you as he did so, then stalked his way over to you, taking a small sip from your coffee cup before winding an arm around your waist and burying his face in your hair.

Vox looked at the both of you with something approaching dismay. “He likes you way too much, baby deer,” he said, shaking his head. “Way, way too much.”

Alastor just laughed, his nose pressing against your neck.

The following list is all of the people without whom this work would not exist in its present form; who cheered for me, who reassured me, who pointed out where my phrasing was awkward, and all in all encouraged me to go the whole hog and not just the tip. Thank you for putting up with me and my incessant self-aggrandizing wank and telling me, each in your own way, that the dog exploded.

Bapple Fraugwinska Macabre Barbie Miggy Katethulu Rein Miz blue Molly Anne

The others in the discord server for whom I do not have an ao3 or tumblr account

Special thanks to Shunypie/Shunyhuny who drew fanart (holy shit I am still absolutely fucking floored by this, it's so beautiful)

My final acknowledgment goes to everyone else who read this and thought it was hot, love you guys. Your comments feed me, your likes sustain me.

Though my planned procession of porn is past its climax, I am still open to penning vignettes about the lookalike and set in the lookalike’s timeline. If you have an idea or request, please post a comment here, or if you fancy remaining anonymous, you can use my inbox at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/impale-me-radio-daddy

Regretfully, I do not take commissions (I can’t think of an amount of money that would be worth the expression of confusion and fear from my accountant) so all requests will be undertaken at my own discretion.

Until next time, dear readers.

#lookalikeposting #vox x reader #hazbin x reader #vox x y/n #vox x reader x alastor #voxal #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor x vox #vox smut #vox x alastor #vox x you #vox x oc #alastor x oc #alastor x reader smut

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armoricaroyalty · 5 months

Text

Film Grammar for Simmers

What is film grammar?

"Film grammar" refers the unstated "rules" of editing used in movies and TV. Different types of shots have different associations and are used by editors to convey different types of information to the audience. Many of these principles were first described in the early 20th century by Soviet directors, but they're used consistently across genre, medium, and even language: Bollywood musicals, English period dramas, Korean horror movies, and American action blockbusters all use many of the same techniques.

Because these rules are so universal, virtually everyone has some internalized understanding of them. Even if they can’t name the different types of shots or explain how editors use images to construct meaning, the average person can tell when the “rules” are being broken. If you’ve ever thought a movie or episode of TV was confusing without being able to say why, there’s a good chance that there was something off with the editing.

Learning and applying the basics of film grammar can give your story a slicker and more-polished feel, without having to download shaders or spend hours in photoshop. It also has the bonus of enhancing readability by allowing your audience to use their knowledge of film and TV to understand what's happening in your story. You can use it to call attention to significant plot details and avoid introducing confusion through unclear visual language.

Best of all, it doesn't cost a dime.

The basics: types of shots

Shots are the basic building block of film. In Sims storytelling, a single shot is analogous to a single screenshot. In film, different types of shots are distinguished by the position of the camera relative to the subject. There are three big categories of shots, with some variation: long shots (LS), medium shots (MS), and close-ups (CU). This diagram, created by Daniel Chandler and hosted on visual-memory.co.uk illustrates the difference:

Source: The 'Grammar' of Television and Film, Daniel Chandler, visual-memory.co.uk. Link.

In film, scenes typically progress through the different types of shots in sequence: long shot, medium shot, close-up. When a new scene begins and the characters arrive in a new location, we typically begin with a wide establishing shot of the building’s exterior to show the audience where the scene will be taking place. Next comes a long shot of an interior space, which tells the where the characters are positioned relative to one another. The next shot is a medium shot of the characters conversing, and then finally, a close-up as the conversation reaches its emotional or informational climax. Insert shots are used judiciously throughout to establish themes or offer visual exposition.

Here's another visual guide to the different types of shots, illustrated with stills from Disney animated films.

This guide is almost 2,000 words long! To save your dash, I've put the meat of it under the cut.

Long shot and extreme long shots

A long shot (sometimes also called a wide shot) is one where the entire subject (usually a building, person, or group of people) is visible within the frame. The camera is positioned far away from the subject, prioritizing the details of the background over the details of the subject.

One of the most common uses of long shots and extreme long shots are establishing shots. An establishing shot is the first shot in a scene, and it sets the tone for the scene and is intended to give the viewer the information they’ll need to follow the scene: where a scene is taking place, who is in the scene, and where they are positioned in relation to one another. Without an establishing shot, a scene can feel ungrounded or “floaty.” Readers will have a harder time understanding what’s happening in the scene because on some level, they’ll be trying to puzzle out the answers to the who and where questions, distracting them from the most important questions: what is happening and why?

(I actually like to start my scenes with two establishing shots: an environmental shot focusing on the scenery, and then a second shot that establishes the characters and their position within the space.)

Long shots and extreme long shots have other uses, as well. Because the subject is small relative to their surroundings, they have an impersonal effect which can be used for comedy or tragedy.

In Fargo (1996) uses an extreme long shot to visually illustrate the main character’s sense of defeat after failing to secure funding for a business deal.The shot begins with a car in an empty parking lot, and then we see the protagonist make his way up from the bottom of the frame. He is alone in the shot, he is small, and the camera is positioned above him, looking down from a god-like perspective. All of these factors work together to convey his emotional state: he’s small, he’s alone, and in this moment, we are literally looking down on him. This shot effectively conveys how powerless he feels without any dialogue or even showing his face.

The same impersonal effect can also be used for comic purposes. If a character says something stupid or fails to impress other characters, cutting directly from a close-up to a long shot has a visual effect akin to chirping crickets. In this instance, a long shot serves as a visual “wait, what?” and invites the audience to laugh at the character rather than with them.

Medium Shots

Medium shots are “neutral” in filmmaking. Long shots and close-ups convey special meaning in their choice to focus on either the subject or the background, but a medium shot is balanced, giving equal focus to the character and their surroundings. In a medium shot, the character takes up 50% of the frame. They’re typically depicted from the waist-up and the audience can see both their face and hands, allowing the audience to see the character's facial expression and read their body-language, both important for interpreting meaning.

In most movies and TV shows, medium shots are the bread and butter of dialogue-heavy scenes, with close-ups, long shots, and inserts used for punctuation and emphasis. If you’re closely following the conventions of filmmaking, most of your dialogue scenes will be medium shots following the convention of shot-reverse shot:

youtube

To keep long conversations from feeling too visually monotonous, consider staging the scene as a walk-and-talk. Having two characters move through a space can add a lot of dynamism and visual interest to a scene that might otherwise feel boring or stiff.

Close Ups

Close-ups are close shots of a character’s face. The camera is positioned relatively near to the subject, showing just their head and shoulders. In a close-up, we don’t see any details of the background or the expressions of other characters.

In film, close-ups are used for emphasis. If a character is experiencing a strong emotion or delivering an important line of dialogue, a close-up underscores the importance of the moment by inviting the audience to focus only on the character and their emotion.

Close-ups don’t necessarily need to focus on the speaker. If the important thing about a line of dialogue is another character’s reaction to it, a close-up of the reaction is more effective than a close-up of the delivery.

One of the most iconic shots in Parasite (2019) is of the protagonist driving his employer around while she sits in the backseat, speaking on the phone. Even though she’s the one speaking, the details of her conversation matter less than the protagonist’s reaction to it. While she chatters obliviously in the background, we focus on the protagonist’s disgruntled, resentful response to her thoughtless words and behavior.

In my opinion, Simblr really overuses close-ups in dialogue. A lot of conversation scenes are framed entirely in close-ups, which has the same effect of highlighting an entire page in a textbook. The reader can’t actually tell what information is important, because the visuals are screaming that everything is important. Overusing close-ups also cuts the viewer off from the character’s body language and prevents them from learning anything about the character via their surroundings.

For example, a scene set in someone’s bedroom is a great opportunity for some subtle characterization—is it tidy or messy? what kind of decor have they chosen? do they have a gaming computer, a guitar, an overflowing bookshelf?—but if the author chooses to use only close-ups, we lose out on a chance to get to know the character via indirect means.

Inserts

An insert shot is when a shot of something other than a character’s face is inserted into a scene. Often, inserts are close-ups of a character’s hands or an object in the background. Insert shots can also be used to show us what a character is looking at or focusing on.

In rom-com The Prince & Me (2004) (see? I don’t just watch crime dramas…) the male lead is in an important meeting. We see him pick up a pen, look down at the papers in front of him, and apparently begin taking notes, but then we cut to an insert shot of his information packet. He’s doodling pictures of sports cars and is entirely disengaged from the conversation. Every other shot in the scene is an establishing shot or a medium shot or a close-up of someone speaking, but this insert gives us insight into the lead’s state of mind: he doesn’t want to be there and he isn’t paying attention.

Insert shots are, in my opinion, also used ineffectively on Simblr. A good insert gives us extra insight into what a character is thinking or focusing on, but a poorly-used insert feels…unfocused. A good insert might focus on pill bottles on a character’s desk to suggest a chemical dependency, on a family picture to suggest duty and loyalty, on a clock to suggest a time constraint, on a pile of dirty laundry or unanswered letters to suggest a character is struggling to keep up with their responsibilities. An ineffective insert shot might focus on the flowers in the background because they’re pretty, on a character’s hands because it seems artsy, on the place settings on a dining table because you spent forever placing each one individually and you’ll be damned if they don’t make it into the scene. These things might be lovely and they might break up a monotonous conversation and they might represent a lot of time and effort, but if they don’t contribute any meaning to a scene, consider cutting or repurposing them.

I want to emphasize: insert shots aren’t bad, but they should be carefully chosen to ensure they’re enhancing the meaning of the scene. Haphazard insert shots are distracting and can interfere with your reader’s ability to understand what is happening and why.

Putting it all together

One of the most basic principles of film theory is the Kuleshov effect, the idea that meaning in film comes from the interaction of two shots in sequence, and not from any single shot by itself. In the prototypical example, cutting from a close-up of a person’s neutral expression to a bowl of soup, children playing, or soldiers in a field suggests hunger, worry, or fear, respectively.

youtube

The Kuleshov effect is the essence of visual storytelling in a medium like Simblr. You can elevate your storytelling by thinking not only about each individual shot, but about the way they’ll interact and flow into one another.

Mastering the basics of film grammar is a great (free!) way to take your storytelling to the next level. To learn more, you can find tons of guides and explainers about film grammar for free online, and your local library doubtless has books that explain the same principles and offers additional analysis.

Happy simming!

#armorica tips #armorica ooc #i finally got off my ass to finish this guide which i started back in August right before I got extremely sick and ended up in the hospital #anyway....hope you enjoyed this post which was a veiled excuse for me to complain about how people overuse close-ups and inserts #and i can't tell what's happening in their stories ;fdsklsjadf;laksdf #Youtube

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bearw-me · 22 days

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Can we have poly Asmodeus and fizarolli with a s/o who's a k-pop idol ?

my first polyyyy i'm so excited! bless anon!

𝐀𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐬 + 𝐅𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐇𝐜𝐬

𐐒 ft : (poly!) asmodeus x kpop idol!reader x fizzarolli 𐐒 cw : fluff, cuddling, slight angst 𐐒 summary : general hcs! 𐐒 note : may i be the first to say this was the most wholesome-heart squeezing thing ive ever written/imagined

Asmodeus arranges shows for you in his club in the Lust Ring, if you have time, and they are special events he doesn't host very often (mostly because he adores you and wants you to be shown off, but also because he hates the way his sinners view you in the Lust Ring: objectively)

He LOVES singing with you

Fizzarolli is the one to attend ALL your shows, waving his light sticks in the air happily, probably cheering the loudest.

Asmodeus doesn't really like PDA unless its for his shows or a performance out of respect for your public image, but Fizz is a little more weary, mostly because (like in the show) he doesn't want to be the one to drag the two of you down

They both LOVE your dances and choreography, and the fact you allow them to have opinions on your outfits.

Cuddle Hcs: Asmodeus loves to be in the middle, holding the two of your smaller bodies against him or both next to him on one side (he can definitely manage to wrap his arms around you both, so he does) and Fizz just likes having you both near him, having the smell and warmth of you both close is enough to have him finally fall asleep

If you're off on tour, Fizz has to call you every night and check in, holding you on the phone until you absolutely can't talk to him anymore (bonus if you just fall asleep with him and he can hear you snoring. it melts his heart) and he turns to Asmodeus until you're back

Despite being popular in hell themselves, Asmodeus and Fizz never actually try to "take advantage" of your fame, only support you when you need it

Your literal husbands

Fizz is clingy, while Asmodeus is a more possessive/jealous type

but also don't think Fizz will just stand there and let some guy try to eye-f*ck you either (he WILL strangle someone)

Asmodeus has a tattoo, or a mark on his chest, for the two of you

Fizz would love to manage your socials if you asked it of him (or give you opinions on your 'best' pictures)

Surprisingly, Asmodeus is the one who wears your merch (the most), mostly as a sleepy shirt, but he would wear it under his usual three-piece suit if he didn't feel like dressing that day

I feel like (obviously) As would rehearse your songs with you, giving you feedback on your notes and tone while you sang, While Fizz would help you with choreo!

Fizz likes to cuddle with you in bed, snuggling his face into your chest and vent about the day or what bothers him

Asmodeus loves to be involved with your career and brings you things you might need like body glitter or getting your nails done, even bringing you socks that match your outfit better.

The poly relationship would work really well, and Asmodeus and Fizz could really depend on each other when one of them wasn't their for you.

As feels like he needs to protect and be there for the two of you, and gets anxious or apprehensive when he's not there with you both

And Fizz knows he can depend on the both of you, comforted even if you both weren't physically there to hug him

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urszn · 2 years

Text

PICK ME !

in which y/n debuts in the group new jeans and ends up getting the attention of her seniors jungwon and niki, as new jeans and y/n get more attention, y/n starts being considered a it girl ! which leads to a host asking enhypen what new jeans members are their favorites…. “y/n!” they both say in sync.

paring(s) niki x fem idol reader . jungwon x fem idol reader

warning(s) cursing, kms/kys jokes, blackmail, cyber bullying (kinda idk), to be added !

featuring … new jeans ! lesserafim — eunchae, p1harmony — soul, nmixx — jiwoo & kyujin, treasure — haruto to be added

started nov 5th status ongoing series finished tba???

“you got me looking for attention” -new jeans

THE CAST ! “bunnies4life.com” aka new jeans ! “12CONNECT.com” aka enhypen ! “4THGENBESTIES.com” aka y/n’s idol friends !

playlist ! (coming soon)

CHAPTERS !

#ONE. she was supposed to notice me written + smau

#TWO. NO IM A PICK ME NOT HER !

#THREE. “hannah” written

#FOUR. the apology made by “jungwon”

#FIVE. it’s definitely a date

#SIX. apologies, friendships, and a crush

#SEVEN. WHO TF IS QUINN?!?

THE START OF THE DOWNFALL ?!

#EIGHT. side eyeing her up and down

#NINE. soul’s life (he’s emo now)

#TEN. ynki is real

#ELEVEN. adam sandler what are u doing here?

#TWELVE. souls adventure (wtf)

#THIRTEEN. quinn is okay?

#FOURTEEN. tension (the interview) written + smau

BONUS 001. — the date and…jungwon?

BONUS 002. — quinn whenever y/n isn’t online

BONUS 003. — a compilation of ynchae being the best duo

BONUS 004. — y/n and danielle adventures

TAGLIST IS OPEN ! — CHAPTER NAMES MIGHT CHANGE !

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 10 months

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Resident Evil Village characters with a chubby fem s/o

Dating Headcanons (+ Some bonus drabbles for a few)

Including Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau and Mother Miranda

(Reader is somewhat coquette? Princesscore? Just the dainty feminine type)

Credits to dividers used are on this post.

Rules for requests

If you don't want to send requests through Tumblr, my Instagram is always an option.

Please interact with this post as much as possible, it helps a lot. Thank you <3

A/n: Hi lovelies, Lia here. I'm back after a long time. I hope you enjoy this post and I'll be setting up my schedule soon, I'll be posting once or twice every 1-2 week/s. If you can't tell, purple has always been my theme. I'll add more to these and edit it if I think of more to add. Any mistakes will be corrected upon checking.

This is just me but I love the concept of like a girl who is so sweet and her style just looks so fem and she's just surrounded by all the creepy things that are resident evil.

I'll be checking and if this post does well I will write more.

Warnings/Disclaimers: English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Blood, gore?, violence, typical resident evil stuff and mentions of insecurity. Slight suggestive content if you squint.

Alcina Dimitrescu

First of all despite your plush stature, she still treats you like a porcelain doll.

She just adores you so much (I mean she herself is tall and plus size).

Motherly nature and all, she has three daughters and honestly if she ever sees you interact with them. It would just warm her cadou infested heart.

Insecure about stretch marks? She'll kiss that shit away right then and there. She'll even show you hers because let's be honest here stretch marks are beautiful, you just don't like them on yourself.

Anyone insults or talks shit about you? She'll get rid of them, in any way possible depending on what they said. She'll pick a suitable punishment for them, ranges from "you're fired" to "I'm going to skin you alive and tear your heart out".

Alcina is a confident and dominant figure, she isn't swayed by something so small as beauty standards. Especially in herself, therefore I think she'd even help you build your confidence up.

Gifts galore with this woman, she love to spoil you with her riches. Loves to see you adorned with luxurious items that she give you.

Love dressing up with you, seeing you all dolled up for her. Has custom made clothes for you, sometimes opts for an outfit that matches or contrasts yours perfectly.

Knows what compliments your features best since she loves to bring them out.

Her hosting soirees and balls with you as her special guest, having you wear elegant dresses that she bought for you.

I see her as this almost touchy type. She'll love having you curl up on her lap while she gets paperwork done.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

You called Alcina's attention wanting to see her reaction to the new dress you bought, Alcina's eyes lit up at your elegance and charm. She smiled warmly, taking your hand in hers. "You look enchanting, my darling," she purred, proud to have you by her side.

Karl Heisenberg

Stinky metal dilf here actually loves that you're so soft in contrast to his gruff and abrasive nature.

He hasn't had physical affection in a long time so having someone soft and warm to hold is new to him.

Karl is naturally protective over you, especially because he thinks you're fragile. I mean compared to whatever's in the village, the rest of the lords and Mother Miranda.

I bet you this man has tore down someone for you, he chopped them off limb by limb for insulting you.

I can't get enough of the dynamic you'd have. It's like the grumpy x sunshine trope, this man has a sharp tongue. Especially when you hear him insult Lady Dimitrescu.

This man has a soft spot for you, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make him take a bath after being all sweaty from working with machinery all day.

I feel like he has scars all of his body, especially his very toned back.

Doesn't mind you leaving scratches when you're in the bedroom

Alcina sometimes tries to piss him off by commenting at the fact that you are soft and dainty while Karl is just the opposite and offers you an opportunity to be with "Someone refined" (She ain't wrong).

It really is just to get to Karl's nerves.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Karl smirked, trying to play it cool, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. "Not bad, princess," he teased, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly, "You're somethin' special, ya know?"

Donna Beneviento

You know Donna understands what it's like being insecure about looks but to her you're just perfect in every single way.

Donna just doesn't give a shit in a good way, she doesn't judge people based on their appearance. It's dumb and shallow.

Donna would absolutely adore making clothes for you or altering your current ones. It's a skill she's proud of and seeing you appreciate it makes her all the more in love with you.

Angie has made a few comments resulting in her getting kicked off into space but once Donna warms her about that and how you don't like it, she'll stop in respect towards you. Which is rare considering how Angie is.

Donna's personal style definitely helps contrast yours, though it's the opposite from your soft light colors.

Thinks you're so pretty, she's smitten. Even though yours are different from you, she still makes use of her skills to fit your clothing tastes.

I can just imagine her staring at you in awe as you spin around and show her how the dress she made fits you. I like to think she has your measurements memorized from head to toe.

She take one look at something and already know how it would fit on you or if she needs to alter.

You once asked her to make a doll that looks like the both of you (and Angie but like a smaller version that fits the doll's arms).

Donna entered your shared bedroom to find you but noticed something on the shelves. It was the dolls she made sitting against the book. She noticed how you positioned them. Holding hand while the tiny Angie replica was on the doll version of her's lap. Donna swore at that moment she was gonna melt.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Donna's expression softened as she saw you in the vintage lace dress. She held your hand, wordlessly conveying her affection and admiration.

Salvatore Moreau

God so help him, he was flabbergasted when he first heard about your insecurity. Literally why? Like you are just the most beautiful thing that walked the planet in his eyes.

He just worships the ground you walk on, he isn't as wealthy as the other lords but still, he give you his best efforts by carving you small trinkets out of wood.

Gifts you natural things he finds like crystals and whatnot.

Best of efforts when he comforts you. Sometimes he's too scared to physically touch you because he thinks he'll hurt you.

You're relationship is filled mostly by nature, despite the wasteland that surrounds your living area. It's hauntingly beautiful in it's own way. (Some of it I suppose)

Feels more at ease around you, think about how much he wanted to just make Mother Miranda proud of him, he's that with you but 10x more the effort.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Salvatore couldn't contain his delight at seeing you in the dress. "You're my beautiful water nymph princess!" he exclaimed, spinning you around with excitement.

Mother Miranda

You peeked her interest when she first saw you, I mean you're her complete opposite. She finds beauty in dark items and almost gothic stuff, so her taking an interest to you just made her even more curious.

She works a lot so gifts and trinkets to remind you of her are an occasional thing. I can just imagine you taming crows and she's just in awe.

Loyalty of crows means they leave you shiny trinkets and sometimes Miranda takes them for herself when she likes whatever they bring.

Again she's one to think you're fragile because of your style, you just look so cute and soft.

Nobody dares insult you, I mean if you really won the heart of Mother Miranda they are fucked if they even speak a little out of line.

Likes to keep you by her side despite working a lot. So you'd often be by her side during her meetings with the four lords and honestly you are such an eye candy.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Mother Miranda's composure remained regal, but her eyes showed approval. "You look exquisite" she acknowledged, holding your hand with reverence. To her, you were a jewel among mortals, deserving of admiration.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #donna x reader #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #salvatore moreau x reader #mother miranda x reader #donna beneviento x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #re8 x reader #4 lords x reader #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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spookitapes · 11 months

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jschlatt nsfw visuals part l

summary | porn i associate with jschlatt bc i’m a whore for him

pairing | jschlatt x fem!reader (kinda ft. chuckle sandwich & friends)

warnings/cw | porn, smut, choking, slapping, spanking, daddy kink, getting caught by your friends, rough sex, edging, public sex, fucking in someone else’s bed, degradation, praise, humiliation, orgasm ban, anal, overstimulation, drunk/high sex (with consent), car sex

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

!! you need to log in to twitter to see the vids from there !!

not proofread, sorry for any mistakes !!

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────

quickies

❧ “such a slut for me, aren’tcha sweetheart? yeah, you’re so goddamn easy for me.”

❧ fucks you like he HATES you during quickies…especially if you were being a brat or teasing him beforehand

❧ he’s going all out for the short amount of time given..give him 5 minutes or 5 hours he’s gonna have your legs shaking by the end of it.

❧ that man is gonna choke you, slap you, spit in your mouth, and still have time to fuck your throat with his dick that’s covered in your cum.

in an unlocked room of a nye party

❧ you did not see yourself ending up here…on some dude’s bed at a nye streamer party your boyfriend invited you to

❧ but schlatt doesn’t tolerate disrespect well. so when the host’s roommate started flirting with you as soon as he disappeared to get you two drinks…you knew he ur pussy was done

❧ he watched in amusement as you tried to let him down easy at first, but when he started calling you a bitch and grabbing at you it took schlatt all of three seconds to be between you two

❧ his fist clenched the man’s collar as you tried to calm him down

❧ “baby it’s okay- i’m okay!”

❧ “he’s not worth it, jonny!”

❧ “b-baby please just let it go!”

❧ he dropped eye contact with the man when he felt your nails digging into his shoulder

❧ he knew he had to push him away when he saw the worried look on your face— tears threatening your waterline

❧ but big guy’s gotta get his frustrations out somehow, and he knows the perfect way to get revenge and make you feel better

❧ so with a sigh, he releases the douchebag’s shirt with a shove and grabs your hand to lead you upstairs

❧ “yeah i bet you like gettin fucked on this prick’s bed knowing he could walk in at anytime, huh? like knowing the closest that bastard’s ever gonna get to this pussy is the fucking stain on his sheets.”

❧ you’re praying to the almighty man himself that jonny doesn’t notice the way your stomach twists up with the flames of an orgasm building..

❧ but god’s not listening and he’s laughing along with your boyfriend..who’s grinning down at you as he leans in to your ear

❧ “oh i felt that, sweetheart. felt this slutty pussy tighten up on me when i said that. knew you were nasty— but fuuuuuccck.”

❧ he’s g r o w l i n g his words out at this points

❧ teeth pulling on your earlobe followed by his hot breath fanning against it

❧ “m’gonna make you squirt all over this fucking comforter, doll. leave him a gift to push his face into as he jerks his sorry excuse of a dick off.”

❧ safe to say you two left a wet spot the size of russia and a lasting impression on twitter.

(bonus)

❧ “and to think you kept whining about some dumb kiss…shoulda known i always go above and beyond for my girl.”

giving you a punishment one two three

❧ “count or im startin over, understand?”

❧ don’t even think out nodding your head..

❧ cause he’ll put his fingers in your hair and yank your head back to meet his eyes as his other hand lands the first smack on your ass

❧ “use your goddamn words..you know better than that, angel.”

❧ “y-yes sir!! i understand! i’m sorry won’t happen again..i’ll listen— promise !!” comes tumbling out in a high pitched whine

❧ “ya better or you’re not cumming at all. gonna bruise this ass and leave ya all messy and unsatisfied like a whore. you want that, y/n ?”

❧ as hot as that sounds you definitely don’t want that..too horny and too pent up to be able to breathe without cumming

❧ so you fall into submission easily, counting out each spank he gives you

❧ thanking him profusely after he’s satisfied enough to slide his big fingers into your cunt

❧ “don’t thank me yet, i still haven’t decided to let you cum.”

❧ he can sense the frown spreading across your face at the whine you let out, so he picks up the pace of finger fucking you

❧ his unoccupied hand returning to giving you more harsh slaps across the ass

❧ “drop the attitude, toots or m’not gonna let you cum. just gotta keep being a good girl for me, can ya do that? can ya reach back here and give daddy a kiss?”

❧ so you gather all your strength as you strain your upper half to face him, tears falling down your cheeks as you reach for his lips

❧ it’s anything but what you’re expecting— slow and passionate. full of the love and softness as he batters your pussy and let’s you moan into his mouth

❧ “such a fucking good girl for me, knew you were in there somewhere. my pretty doll just needed to be reminded of her place, huh? fuck your self back on— thaaaat’s it.”

❧ but every time you’re about to cum he’s pulling his fingers out and spanking your pussy

❧ the frustration builds as you thrash around

❧ whining that “s’not fuckin fair!”

❧ “keep strugglin and i’ll really give you something to cry about.”

❧ his harsh tone makes you come to a halt, eyes red & legs shaking from being pulled back from the edge so many times

❧ and as soon as you still and meet his gaze he’s bullying his digits back into your sore pussy again

(bonus)

❧ “go ahead and cum for me, baby. been so good— yeah, cream all over my fingers…goooood fuckin girl.”

❧ sometimes instead of edging you jonny gives you exactly what you want…he’ll let you cum and he’s not gonna stop till you can’t cum anymore.

❧ “keep on fucking whining like you didn’t ask for this, y/n.”

❧ your chest is pressed against his and he’s got a death grip on your waist

❧ the only sound in the room is your loud cries and the sloppy fucking of his fingers into you

❧ your ass high in the air as he drills your pussy, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your tired body

❧ “keep still-stop goddamn squirmin!”

❧ it’s barked into your ear, chops scratching your skin as he roughly grabs your jaw and forces your eyes to meet

❧ “i swear to god if keep moving i’ll strap the hitachi to your clit and leave you here all night.”

❧ before you can respond he’s setting a lightening quick pace, pussy spasming round him once again

❧ “fuuuck give it to me, darlin. you can keep going, come on and show me how good this pussy cums for me.”

❧ he only does it as an end to an orgasm ban (when you break a rule so he doesn’t let you cum for a certain amount of time..not even by yourself)

❧ you have to seriously piss schlatt off for him to ban you (he loves your pussy too much)

❧ but when he does…

❧ he’s not touching your pussy at all

❧ not gonna let you touch it either

❧ not even allowed to have your clit played with when it’s a punishment fuck

❧ you have to get off from the anal alone and if you don’t…that’s not his problem lmao

❧ maybe next time you’ll listen and behave for him…

❧ till then he’s using your ass as a fleshlight and lettin your week-long neglected pussy leak out so much it covers your thighs & all of his lower half

(bonus)

❧ “oh goddamn it, babydoll. didn’t know i could get you to squirt without even touching your pussy..imma have to do it again.”

late night car shenanigans one two

❧ it started off so innocent 🥲

❧ jonny asking if you wanted to ride around and listen to music with him at 3 am

❧ it’s a usual thing you two do together when you couldn’t sleep so you didn’t think much of it

❧ so you slipped on a tank top & a cardigan with a cute new mini skirt to match

❧ little did you know that skirt is your boyfriend’s new found kryptonite

❧ so now the skirt’s bunched around your waist

❧ your back’s pressed half against the door half against the passenger seat with your boyfriend’s fingers deep inside your pussy as he speeds down the interstate

❧ the loud bass that’s usually filled the car is silent

❧ schlatt wants to be sure he can hear his favorite symphony— your noises accompanied by the sounds of your wet pussy

(bonus)

❧ “whatcha want to eat, love? i know cumming like that had to make you work up an appetite.”

❧ “don’t worry about me i’ll eat my favorite meal at home. it’s hot and ready whenever i want.” (yes he’d make a little caesar’s joke about ur coochie tell me i’m wrong)

❧ camping with chuckle sandwich seemed like a good idea

❧ till you were drunk in the woods and only 10 feet away from your friends in tents

❧ “j-jonny we can’t..not with them right there.”

❧ “come on doll, they won’t even notice.”

❧ “you and i both know i can’t stay quiet enough for that..baby please.”

❧ as tipsy as he is he knows you’re right..so he sneaks you two out of the tent

❧ he grabs two new beers and leads you back to the parking lot of the forrest

❧ once you’re in the car it’s game over

❧ you’re both insatiable as you make out on his lap

❧ in your drunken kiss you knock the sun visor down and a pre-rolled blunt falls between you two on your laps

❧ you bite your lip as you look between the blunt and your boyfriend..hoping he catches your drift

❧ he catches that shit.

❧ so now your getting railed in the passenger seat as schlatt leans over you and shotguns the smoke into your mouth

❧ the feeling of being cross faded adds so much to being fucked

❧ you’re so sensitive it’s insane

❧ schlatt swears he’s never heard you making these types of noises before

❧ doesn’t even care about the carpet burn that’s starting to form on his knees

❧ the feeling of being crossed and inside of you is enough to make him speed up is thrusts

❧ you’re so lost in each other you don’t realize the sun starting to rise

❧ so lost in the sauce jonny just turns his phone off to stop it from ringing (he doesn’t even check to see who it is RIP)

❧ or hear the footsteps and calls of your names nearing the parking lot

❧ or when your friends finally knock on the car door they’re met with a porn star level performance from you both

❧ you’ll blame it on the substances later because right now nothing is gonna stop you both from covering the seat in another load of your almost future children

(bonus)

❧ “do you think they know?”

❧ schlatt gives you a small smile and kiss to the forehead

❧ “of course not, doll”

❧ you settle at the news, anxiety leaving your body

❧ “we DEFINITELY know.”

#jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt smut #jschlatt.cass #jschlatt #jschlatt oneshot #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfiction #cass.lair #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sandwich smut #chuckles sandwich x reader #chuckle sandwich x y/n

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katelynnwrites · 9 months

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I Think Of You (When I Think About Forever) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: mean words

word count: 1430

summary: felicitas is your forever no matter what anyone else says

a/n: requested, part two to You Are In Love (True Love)

‘I’m so in love with you.’ Feli declares.

You giggle, ‘You’re only saying that because I’m giving you a massage.’

‘Not just that. You know it’s not only because of that.’ Your girlfriend complains.

‘I know.’ You promise, kissing the back of her neck.

Felicitas smiles and then in one swift movement, pushes you down onto the bed beside her.

She straddles you and you groan, ‘Feli.’

‘Liebling.’ She mocks and you roll your eyes.

‘I love you.’ The older woman reminds you before bringing her lips down to meet yours.

You melt and your girlfriend makes a pleased noise at the effect she has on you.

She kisses you a few more times and then pulls back just enough to breathe.

Her eyes are sparkling and you can’t help but softly whisper, ‘I never thought I would be doing this here.’

‘Doing what?’ Feli prompts.

‘Kissing the love of my life in the bedroom I grew up in.’

Felicitas laughs, ‘Want to do that again?’

Very eagerly, you pull her close by the collar of her shirt so that you can answer her question.

******

A few hours later and you have reluctantly stopped making out with your girlfriend, in favour of making yourself presentable.

Your parents had decided to host a dinner for all your extended family so that you could spend time with them.

In playing for Wolfsburg, you have missed out on a lot of family time. It bothers you sometimes but you make the trip from Germany to England as often as you can.

This time though, you’ve brought your girlfriend with you.

You pick up on Feli’s anxiety easily, your German girlfriend having changed her outfit three times already.

‘Feli you look stunning. Don’t worry, my parents love you and I’m sure that the rest of my family will too. Honestly, my love relax.’

‘Are you sure?’ She nervously asks.

‘I’m positive. Besides, you’ve already impressed the most important members of my family. Anyone after that is a bonus. Although I will give you extra credit if you get my baby nieces to like you.’

You kiss her reassuringly and after a moment, you feel her smile against your lips.

******

Felicitas proves you right.

Your grandparents welcome her with open arms and your baby nieces adore her.

They chase her around your parents’ backyard and she lets them catch her.

It’s a pile of infectious giggles that you walk up to and your youngest niece raises her arms, asking to be picked up when she sees you approaching.

You do as she asks and your sister’s daughter leans in to conspiratorially whisper, ‘Your girlfriend is cool.’

‘I know she is.’ You tell her just as seriously.

It makes Feli, who is eavesdropping on the whole conversation, laugh.

‘Want Mama now.’ She whines and you chuckle.

You glance over at Felicitas to check if she’s okay to be left alone with your other niece for a while and she nods.

So you take her over to your sister. She kicks her little legs excitedly and then thanks you sweetly when she’s back in her mother’s arms.

Your sister gives you a smile and then your niece starts telling her all about Feli and how she hopes you’re going to marry her.

You blush and excuse yourself quickly, not wanting to be teased by your older sister.

Though you do know that you share the same hope as you make your way back to Felicitas.

******

It’s a lovely night and you’re thankful for the rare chance to see your relatives.

Though your parents have invited more members of your extended family than you had expected.

You’ve seen the cousins you grew up with and the aunts who doted on you as you were doing so.

Even one of your more distant cousins, who you haven’t seen since you were twelve has shown up.

You are having a good time and from the way Feli is laughing with your mother, you think she is too.

You can’t resist going up to her and pressing a kiss against her cheek.

‘Hello liebling.’ She murmurs and you smile.

‘I’m just going to get another water from the fridge and then I’ll be right back. Do you want anything?’

You shake your head with another grin and your girlfriend kisses your forehead before leaving.

Your mother chuckles, having observed the whole interaction.

‘What Mom?’’

‘She’s so taken with you. It’s a mutual feeling I can tell.’

You flush a bright red again and your mother tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

‘To be honest I was a bit worried when you first told me about Felicitas. Now that I’ve met her and seen how in love the both of you are, I’m not at all worried. In fact, I’m so happy for the both of you.’

‘Thanks Mom.’

Feli reappears with her bottle of water then.

You pull her into your side and she instinctively reaches for your hand.

******

Something isn’t right with your girlfriend. She has always had a tendency to be on the quiet side but now she’s unusually so.

You’re worried she is overwhelmed so you take her to your room and sit down beside her. Most of your relatives have left now anyway.

‘What’s wrong love?’

Your girlfriend lets out a shaky breath.

The pair of you are long past trying to hide anything from each other so she quietly begins, ‘I overheard your distant cousin saying some things…’

‘What things?’

‘She um, she said…’

Felicitas squeezes her eyes shut tightly and then recounts what she’d unintentionally heard.

The moment is fresh in her mind.

She’s walking past the living room when she hears your cousin mention her name.

She didn’t mean to pry but she could not stop herself from listening in.

Your cousin is sitting with a few of your other relatives that you had already introduced Feli to earlier.

As Felicitas lingers outside the living room, your cousin says, ‘Look I know that it is accepted for people like my dear cousin to not be with a man now but can’t she at least find a looker? Her girlfriend looks ten years older and those eyebags she has isn’t helping. Doesn’t she sleep?’

Feli chooses not to hear anything else, quickly making her way back to you.

You swear rapidly after your girlfriend relays your cousin’s words to you.

‘I’m okay with whatever others have to say about me. That doesn’t bother me anymore but when they talk about you that way, it hurts.’ Feli barely audibly continues.

‘It has to be hurting you too liebling.’

Your girlfriend worriedly reaches for your hand and then squeezes it with concern.

She makes your heartbeat stutter with just how much love you feel for her.

Here she is, trying to check that you are okay after overhearing one of your family members making rude comments about her.

You shake your head, leaning in close to kiss her with as much reassurance as you can.

‘It doesn’t. My cousin, the one who is talking about our relationship like she knows us? She’s an idiot. She is never going to get it. You’re beautiful Feli, inside and out. You make me so happy, happier than anyone ever has. I love you and I don’t give a shit about what anyone says because I want to be with you. I want to love you like you love me. I’m proud of the love we share.’

Your girlfriend tears up and nods, whispering, ‘I’m proud of the love we share too.’

‘I’m sorry you had to hear those awful things.’

‘It’s alright. Like you said, she doesn’t know either of us and she is an idiot.’

You laugh and kiss your girl lightly.

‘She moved out of the area when we were pretty young but before that, I used to practice my slide tackles on her. That’s probably why she doesn’t like me.’

Felicitas giggles and you kiss her again.

Sharing kisses with Feli will always make the butterflies in your stomach come alive, no matter how many times you do so.

‘Ich liebe dich.’ Feli murmurs and you smile.

‘I love you too.’

******

If later that night, while Feli is in the shower, you walk up to your cousin just as she’s leaving and threaten to make her life unpleasant if she ever says anything bad about your girlfriend again well, Felicitas doesn’t need to know that.

It does give you an immense sense of satisfaction as you cuddle up to sleep beside your girl though.

German Translations:

liebling - love

ich liebe dich - i love you

#posting this with one hand while i feed the kid in my lap her milk with the other 😂#feli rauch #felicitas rauch #feli rauch x reader #felicitas rauch x reader #gerwnt x reader #gerwnt imagine #dfb frauen imagine #dfb frauen x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen x reader #vfl wolfsburg frauen imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader

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capsyst · 6 months

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I am deeply touched that so many people enjoyed my little animation of Technoblade. I genuinely didn’t think that my post would get spread much, if at all, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for reblogging it and giving me such kind words.

While Procreate does include a playback feature, unfortunately the playback for how I animated this is 45 minutes long and well beyond the capacities of tumblr’s compression and limits. And since I don’t yet have a YouTube channel to host such a lengthy video, the best I can to is provide this quick and dirty breakdown of my process.

I animate the roughs in procreate and you can see that I am VERY loose with my initial pass. I often forget if I’m drawing him with 4 or 5 fingers, I changed his outfit halfway through the animation from a draping cape to a coat, and proportions fly all around. The most important aspect of this initial pass is just to get the timing and movement right.

I then do a second cleanup pass. It is not shown here, but this is what the lineart will eventually be based on. This pass is to refine the art and solidify it. Fix anatomy issues, those finger and clothing issues, and just generally work on sticking closer to the model I had chosen for my reference.

Then I do the lineart pass. I did this in Procreate Dreams by importing the animation as a video, lowering the opacity to 50%, and using it as a guide for the lineart. Here I refine the animation further and clean up any lingering problems.

Finally once the inking is done I color the animation. In Dreams I realized that groups are a godsend for this process. Every color was its own separate layer. But once I finished a layer I could group it together and Dreams treats it like it’s own singular track on the timeline. Then once I finished another color I would group those together with the group I already finished. And then again and again and so on until eventually I only had one layer for all the lineart and color. But if I ever needed to fix anything I could expand those groups and go directly to the frame in question. It’s a really handy feature!

Because he looks out the window at one point I wanted to have the light cast shadows on him. So I colored all the frames before and after the window in a darkened pallet, and the frames where he is at the window in the actual colors. Then I animated a shadow layer that I placed over those frames where he’s at the window at 30%.

For the background I drew an extra wide scene in Procreate and imported it into Dreams. I included an outside, and inside, and three curtains. Two closed, one open. With all of this in Dreams I then added the camera move, and a warp effect on the open curtain to make it seem like it was pulled open quickly. It was surprisingly easy to do!

As a final touch I added a reddish tint to the end when he goes full crazy.

If anyone has any questions about the animation process, or about Dreams or anything, please feel free to ask and I’ll do my best to answer as I can.

Again, thank you for enjoying this animation. I’m deeply touched by the response.

As an added bonus, here’s my 3 favorite smear frames!

#procreate dreams #procreate #animation #2d animation #procreate animation #hand drawn animation #dreams #technoblade never dies #technoblade #Minecraft #mcyt

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bleubrri · 2 years

Text

۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ᴀᴅʀᴇɴᴀʟɪɴᴇ — ʜᴀɴᴍᴀ sʜᴜᴊɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

༄ؘ ˑ contains: f1 driver!shuji , pit crew manager!reader , endless petnames ( doll / angel / pretty girl / sweetheart etc ) , black coded!fem!sub!reader , vaginal fingering , squirting , cunnilingus , a lil pussy job , v brief mention of anal , jerkin’ off , dacryphilia + overstim if you squint , shuji tuckin’ your cum away for safe keeping<3

༄ؘ ˑ wc: 4k

༄ؘ ˑ a/n: belated bday piece for hanma🤸🏾not proof read as per ͡(ुŏ̥̥̥̥ ‸ ŏ̥̥̥̥) ु

“piece of fucking shit—” the sound of his helmet slamming into the tarmac has hanma’s useless excuse for a pit crew flinching under the racers rage. he’d practically leaped out of his car in his blaze of fury, sweat-sticky bangs clinging to his skin as he beelined into the pits. his attempts at trying to stay remotely calm (every one of that brainless psychologists tricks—count down from 10, five things you can see, four things you can hear or whatever the fuck) are crushed into dust when he catches sight of the crew manager, cigarette bobbing between his lips as he attempts to flirt with a runner 2 decades his junior. and hanma sees red, yanks him back by the collar so harshly that he almost goes spinning onto the track (maybe it’d to him good to take a few laps, shuji’s engine revving behind him just to keep him on his toes—).

“what the fuck?!”

“you’re fired.” hanma spits, tone laced with vitriol.

“what?” he says incredulously, “look, you can’t blame me for not winning. shoddy drivin’ ain’t gonna make up for lost time—“ hanma pulls back his fist, since apparently this idiot has a death wish. kisaki let’s him get one punch in, the satisfying crunch of a broken nose echoing before he catches him by the crook of his elbow. his manager takes in the scene, glancing at the runner who’s still hovering, wide eyed and uncertain (probably a damn apprentice they look so young) and grunting out, “leave.”

“you.” he gestures to his short-tempered racer, “walk it off.”

“whatever.” hanma sniffs, casting a final death-glare to the ex pit crew chief and kicking up shards of rubber as he saunters off.

kisaki ignores the outrage that gets spewed at him when he instructs the crew manager to pack his shit. he’s nursing an electromagnetic headache by the time he slinks into his office, wrapping his knuckles against the desk and calling for his assistant. thick lensed glasses and blue eyes peek from behind the door. “sir?”

“call her.” he says, massaging his temple and contemplating if it’s too early to retire.

nervous eyes dart around the room. “I— sir, she doesn’t—“

“call her.” he repeats with a finality that has his assistant shuddering and slinking towards the phone.

ten.

the smell of burning rubber, astringent and sharp, singes your nostrils and coats the back of your tongue.

nine.

“get ready people! in and out, let’s get this playboy back out there.” your quip earns you a few chuckles as your crew assembles into the positions you’ve calculated to optimise the switch.

eight. seven. six.

maybe you can leech an extra bonus off of that eerily stoic manager for your efforts. the last thing you expected was your college friend calling you in the middle of a well deserved vacation, big wet eyes and pleading tone dripping through the screen in desperate need of a favour. you’d agreed—you supposed you owed it to him for endlessly mooching notes off of him in countless late night study sessions. and your crew were good sports about it (it only took the promise of hosting at your house for new years and supplying booze for upwards of 40 people). one race, you’d said. just to tide them over until they found someone permanent for the grand prix.

five. four.

the plan is solid. everyone, everything’s in place. a flash of colour veers round the bend and your grip on your clipboard tightens.

three.

you can almost see your crew’s fingertips twitching with anticipation.

two.

oh this’ll be a breeze. fun even. maybe you can be on the train home by tomorrow morning; knock out a couple chapters of that book you’ve been meaning to finish. cook some dinner, indulge in that chardonnay gifted from the neighbour.

one.

just one more race.

hanma hasn’t been the first racer to leave the pits in a while. he’s almost always the first one in, having to overcompensate in the laps following half assed pit stops by crews that can barely change a fucking tire. so it’s by instinct alone that he’s preparing his usual schpiel of mumblings. c’mon, come on let’s fucking go—

but his words never get the chance to form. he’s barely eased off the gas—barely blinked before he’s burning rubber and shooting back onto the track.

adrenaline is pounding in his ears, and he vaguely registers the screams of the crowd and frantic commentary from the hosts: i don’t think we’ve seen a pit stop like that in a hot second, ted! no you’re absolutely right, josh, especially not from hanma’s corner! word on the street is he’s looking for a fresh new team ahead of the world grand prix—has the infamous racer finally found his match?

he’s giddy with the rush of an impending win flooding his veins, a smile that’s almost ditzy pulling at his lips until he can feel his gums pressing against his molars. a quick glance in his rears reveals a gaggle of black jumpsuits surrounding a figure dressed in red, the stickers from his sponsors adorning your back and torso.

and when his car gains speed and his knuckles whiten beneath his gloves as he approaches the finish line, hanma decides that he has to have you.

“he’s not here! winner’s lounge is further down!” you shout from around the pencil wedged between your teeth. the pits are deserted, with everyone having retreated to the press corner and vip lounge for drinks after an admittedly impressive win. you figured you’d make the most of the peace and quiet and edit a few designs in the seclusion of the garage, the shutters half shut for some privacy and hanma’s car acting as your only company.

and yet the pair of feet visible through the gap in the bottom of the shutters are suddenly sliding underneath. “hey! he’s not here, dude. it’s crew only, you’re not even supposed to be he—oh.”

you’ve only really seen snippets of him—blurry paparazzi shots of him in dark shades and a hoodie slung over his tall figure—but the riot of black and blonde, the stark characters of sin and punishment, it’s all very telling.

“did you.. need something?”

“jus’ addin’ to the collection.” he says, producing his medal that was shoved into a pocket and dropping it into a tray of similar awards. it’s ridiculous really—a little trinket tray full of medals that people spend their entire careers in pursuit of. and yet here he is, 6 foot gorgeous and acting like he couldn’t care less. you resist the urge to rake over his lean form in the tight jumpsuit that he still wears, suddenly very aware of your own jumpsuit: zipped to your waist with arms bare in nothing but a sports bra (and not even one of your cute ones). you frown at the figures and measurements on the papers in front of you. would it be weird to cover up? or weirder if you don’t? surely he’ll leave in a second anywa—

“watcha doin’?” his chin is practically resting on your shoulder as he leans over you, peering at your post-it scribbles and months long blueprints. he smells good. something spicy and masculine that makes you want to turn your head and press your nose to his pulse. apparently he’s enjoying the way his proximity is affecting you, gold-flecked eyes locking with yours as you stutter out a response.

“ah, just going over some plans. nothing exciting really.”

long fingers graze over the paper obscuring your design. “didn’t know pit crew managers designed engines.” he watches you wring your hands together on your lap, suddenly sheepish.

“it’s just for fun, really. might not be one forever..” you mumble.

“you design formula 1 engines for fun?”

“i guess so.”

“MIT?” he asks as if he can’t already tell and you nod.

the hum that rumbles in his chest jumps over your skin and burns goosebumps in its wake. “clever little thing, aren’t you?”

there’s a desert in your mouth. your saliva has to be a fucking mirage because you’re definitely swallowing sand.

“i—“

“pretty too.” he says, tugging on a particularly curly loop of your hair. (it’s short, maybe as short as his, because there’s only so much shampoo a person can go broke from trying to get the smell of gasoline out of hair that grazes your mid-back).

“thanks.” you croak out uncertainly.

“i want you.” he deadpans and you can feel the harsh crunch of grains between your teeth, saharan dust clogging your throat by the mouthful.

“you—what?” you aren’t sure whether hanma’s smile should make you feel excited or uneasy. still, you try not to noticeably clench your thighs together.

“in paris.”

“p-paris?”

he raises a knowing brow as he smirks at your adorable squirming. “i want you there, in paris. for the first race. and every race after that.”

at that, you frown and your answer comes at a speed that surprises you both. “no.” and then, more softly, “i’m… supposed to be on vacation.” you mumble.

he clicks his tongue, dissatisfied. “c’mon sweetheart. it took me one race to figure out you’re the best of the best—you’ve gotta know that by now. and i—“ he starts, lifting your chin from where it’s tucked into your chest, “want the best.”

you step up from your seat a little too fast and slam your pencil down a little too harshly, running a hand over your hair and sighing, “you don’t need me, hanma. you won with a six lap lead today, i think you’ll be fine.” hanma sighs dramatically, walking backwards into the centre of the garage. the distance both calms your nerves and makes you crave something you can’t quite place.

punishment is extended to you, lustrous eyes daring you to deny him. “c’mere.” his hands are slightly warm. palms a little calloused and knuckles sharp when he laces your fingers together and pulls you deeper into the garage, right in front of where his car is parked. admittedly, it’s fucking gorgeous up close—the fleeting glimpses on the speedway don’t do it anywhere near justice. hanma takes advantage of your stunned silence and slots in right behind you, sporting a wicked grin unbeknownst to you when his palms land on your shoulders and he feels you immediately tense under his touch.

“you know why i love racing?” his voice is low and gravelly and travelling straight between your legs. and when his head dips and he whispers over the shell of your ear, you release a shaky breath that you didn’t realise was trapped in your lungs. “adrenaline.” he says. “it builds up. every lap of the track, building and building—“ it’s hard to ignore the way his fingers are sliding further up your skin. “until i cross the finish line with those fuckers miles behind me.” calloused pads ghost over your jaw until hanma’s tilting your gaze upwards. dark and blonde strands have fallen over his eyes, and yet you could swear his pupils look blown, thick lashes more prominent under his half lidded study of you. “you ever feel like that?” it’s phrased as a question, but something in his tone assures you that he knows. “tell me what you felt, today, when we won.” when we won. hanma’s laying it on a little thick, but he has a feeling it’ll all be so, so worth it.

“i—i thought you did well. i was.. proud of my team.” you manage to whisper.

“oh c’mon doll,” the corner of his lips is tilted in a knowing smirk and he leans in closer, “‘s just us, you can drop the modesty.” the subtle heat of sin is suddenly gliding over your waist.

“i—“ you can’t fucking speak, his left hand settling over the skin of your stomach and toying with the zip that sits below your navel. “c’mon angel, you can trust me.”

“i felt it.. i felt it too.” you blurt out. “adrenaline—when you turned the corner. w-when you crossed the finish line. felt like i fucking won.” you’re spewing words out between heavy breaths and he rewards you for it, tracing the lace that lines your panties, the seam that connects your inner thigh to your heated cunt, before tensing the fabric against the plush mound of your pussy. he explores your covered folds through the thin barrier, tracing the peaks and valleys he finds while dragging your panties in steady strokes against you, drool-worthy friction scathing across your weeping cunt. pink flashes from between his teeth as hanma runs his tongue over his lips and you get the sudden insatiable urge to suck on it. to chart the course of his mouth until you get lost between his teeth, under his tongue and down his throat.

“i knew it.” he smiles like he’s proud, “only reason i got such a lead was ‘cause you know how to manage those nobodies.”

did he mean your team? “t-they’re not nobod-“

“they’re nothing.” he insists, “but you, angel face,” he continues, wrenching your panties aside and delighting in the sticky mess that he finds there, “oh you’re everything.”

the moan that escapes you when hanma immediately plunges two lithe fingers past the tight rings of your entrance is swallowed into his mouth when he captures your lips with his. he’s got sharp canines that dig into the plush of your lower lip as he parts them at the seam and licks into your mouth. you’re as sweet as he thought you’d be: he laves over your spit-slick tongue like it’s his favourite piece of candy, swears your teeth have to be rocks of sugar with the way his tastebuds light up at the taste of you.

the stretch from his fingers is tapering into a dull throbbing as he glides the pads of his digits along the satiny walls of your cunt, subtly grinding the hardening tent at his crotch against the curve of your ass. one of your hands slinks upwards and slithers around his nape. blunt nails scratch at the shorter hair there, jolts of electricity shooting to the base of his spine and sparking delicious heat in his gut. your fingers can’t seem to decide what they want, torn between tugging at the soft locks of his crown and burying themselves there to push him closer. either way, the feeling has him growling against your mouth and writhing his fingers until he’s knuckle deep inside you and coated in your slick. when he crooks his fingers, angling them to press into the fleshy bundle of nerves at your centre, you whimper beneath him, arching into his touch and clenching around his digits like a fucking diver grasping at a gem on the depths of the seabed.

heated breaths fan over puffy lips as you pull back to come up for air. it proves pointless—any trace of oxygen punched from your chest when hanma cups your entire pussy and grinds the heel of his palm into the throbbing nub of your clit. your head falls limp against his chest, drawn out moans and little sniffles pulling his attention from the feast between your legs. his gaze is met with damp lashes and an almost imperceptible wobble of your lip. somehow the prospect of your tears has his dick twitching with excitement and threatening to burst through his clothes. he fantasises about having you sprawled out beneath him, tasting salt on you lips and feeling wet trails down your cheeks. maybe mascara would stain your cheeks, inky tracks that worsen with each snap of his hips, sheathing his cock further into the gooey depths of your heat. it’s a tangible possibility, one that has him sporting an erection that could shatter glass. “shit—you cryin’ pretty girl?” he mutters before trailing kisses along the length of your jaw.

“ngh! ‘s so—‘s so good, hanma.” you’re mewling, the increasing pace of his fingers thrusting into you twisting your throat until rapid breaths are being puffed from your lips and the coil in your stomach pulls taut.

“shuji.” he says simply, latching onto your neck and sucking a bruise into the column of your throat.

you can feel your arousal dripping down your inner thighs and stringing his fingers together. between the involuntary grinding against his clothed dick and the searing kisses on your skin, you’re trying to move through the fog of desire that’s clouding your brain; a warning of you about to crash over the edge almost making its way off your tongue before hanma’s shuffling forward, spinning you to face him and pushing you down until you’re sprawled out on the thin hood of his car. his fingers slow their ministrations a fraction and yet never leave their rightful place, nestled against your g-spot. there really isn’t a lot of space on the car, though you suppose it doesn’t matter, ogling him with misty heart-eyes as hanma’s towering form slots over you. the forearm of his free hand slams against the glossy paint job right next to your head, his long legs spread wide to give him the perfect leverage to grind his dick into the edge of the car and relentlessly swirl his digits into the mess of your cunt. and when he feels the telltale squeeze of your walls, he practically rips your jumpsuit down your legs to get a flawless view of the rivets of fluid that spew from around his fingers.

“fuck yeah, good fuckin’ girl.” he’s groaning as his body shifts down and retracts his fingers, sucking swollen, leaking flesh into the rapturous heat of his mouth. “thats it,” he drawls, his drawn out words sending vibrations across the sensitive lips of your pussy. “more, c’mon doll, give me more.” your hands fly into his hair as your spine arches under his expert tongue, swirling and licking up the length of your slit, the pointed tip of his nose pressing into your clit with a pressure that pushes more essence from you as he drinks you down for what seems like forever. “hm, you wanna keep this pretty pussy all to yourself? got a feelin’ this cute little clit’s gonna become my good luck charm.” he’s taken to tracing his initials into the perk cluster of nerves with the tip of his tongue, soaked fingers trailing every inch of your exposed flesh as your hips buck and grind, trying to get more and more friction from his face. your skin is puffy and glistening in a sheen of spit and slick under the dimmed lights of the garage. and you’ve got a cute little rim too, one that twitches when his touch ghosts anywhere remotely near it and it has him dying to fuck your ass until you’re screaming for him.

when your thighs mindlessly inch closer together, caging in his head, punishment is quick to slam one back down, his thumb working to spread you further and his head pushing further into your core. with the endorphins of your high mellowing into a pleasurable buzz, you’re suddenly aware of the sensitivity between your legs and the desperate movement of hanma’s hips.

“s-shuji—“ you call, carting your fingers through his hair. the image of him surfacing is a lewd one: wild eyes that drip with desire, slick coating the bottom half of his face with droplets littering everywhere from his collar to his forehead, a sheen of sweat on this hairline that has the hair there sticking together.

you steal his mouth for yourself, moaning at the taste of your release and his sweet breath pairing together along your tongue. the firm grasp of your fingers beginning to squeeze the bulge of his cock has him bucking into your hand and nipping at the flesh of your lip between groans. “shit—“ he breathes, reaching for the zipper of his jumpsuit and stripping down to his boxers in the space of a few hazy blinks. saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of sinewy musculature, dark hairs along the base of his navel stark against the pale expanse of his torso. beauty marks pepper his sleek abs and you get the desire to sink your teeth into the lean muscle of his thighs when they flex under his movements. it gets better when he frees his cock. a pretty thing; thick and long—his length has you clenching around air and worrying for your cervix. his head is flushed a deep crimson that almost looks painful, and you’d kill to have it shoved into the sleeve of your throat. you’re reaching for him, eyeing the throbbing veins that twist along the ridges of his shaft with a lustful gaze, but he pushes you down with one hand and wraps a tight fist around his girth with the other.

“not today, sweetheart.” he says, pumping his length and squeezing below the sensitive head of his cock, thumbing at his slit as a pearly coat of pre spreads along his shaft.

“what?” you’re looking up at him with doe-eyes through wet lashes, a sweet pout on your pretty lips. “you’re not.. you’re not gonna fuck me?” you mumble it like you’re embarrassed, as if you didn’t just squirt into his mouth and hump his face like a bitch in heat. hanma sighs, letting his dick slap against his stomach and pulling you to the edge of the car by the crook of your knees. you yelp, hands landing onto the hood (and the puddle of slick beneath you). he slides your panties down and takes off your jumpsuit from where it’s pooled around your legs, leaving your sex gorgeously exposed. his hand wraps around his erection, delivering a wet slap with the head of his cock directly over your clit. he watches with delight as a few more dewy drops spew from your slit, the way your face contorts in pleasure and a broken moan escapes you. he continues, does it over and over again, occasionally letting his length glide between the drenched lips of your cunt.

“i’ll fuck every pretty little hole you have to offer dollface.” he smiles as he cups your chin, his knees digging into the harsh metal of the cars hood, caging your body beneath him as he frantically strokes himself. “i’ll fuck you in toronto. in cape town, in tokyo.” he lists as his free hand slides down your torso and he begins to draw sticky circles above your slit. “i’ll fuck you in paris, first.”

his digits dip back inside you, his thumb keeping steady pressure on your clit as his other hand twists along his shaft. “for now, let’s give you a real one. yeah?” you want to argue that your first orgasm felt pretty goddamn real, but your answer comes in the form of your eyes slipping back, your hand clutching onto his wrist, unsure if you want to push him away from your oversensitive hole or keep him sheathed there until you physically can’t cum anymore.

“please, please shuji i’m—mmph fuck, fuck—‘m gonna cum.” oh he knows you are. the silky feeling of your cream between his fingers is enough for the frayed rope in his stomach to snap, milky ropes of his seed spurting from his dick and landing across your pretty cunt in a lecherous slew of arousal. curses are grunted from between his lips, his fist tightening round his cock to milk every drop of his cum onto your messy little hole. each sticky glob of his seed dripping onto you has your pussy clenching around air, pulsing with aftershocks and the desperate desire to have shuji’s cum stuffing you full, flooding your cunt until syrupy strings of it leak from your slit and claim you from the inside out.

silently, he tucks himself back into his boxers and slinks your shaky legs into your discarded underwear, the mixture of your cum and his immediately dampening the fabric. hanma grins, pressing an open-mouthed kiss over the damp spot that has you shuddering out a whimper. he levels his head with yours, a fucked-out smile gracing your lips that he can’t help but press a kiss against too.

“so.” he says.

“so..?”

“paris.”

you giggle, airy and breathless and entirely too fucking infatuating. faux contemplation is laced in the hum that you sing, locks of his hair between your fingers keeping you tethered here and barely stopping you from floating up into orbit. your heads in the clouds, but shuji’s lips are a whisper away, kiss-puffed and begging you to come back to them. “paris.” you say, and before the last syllable can evaporate into the air, shuji’s mouth is slotting against your own so perfectly that you wonder how you’ll ever be able to kiss anyone but him again.

#: @wh0reforlevi

#hanma x reader #hanma shuji x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokyo rev smut #hanma smut #hanma shuji smut #hanma x y/n #hanma x you #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #tokyo revengers x black!reader

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