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mrrharper · 3 months

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A Son, Reformed

To be perfectly clear, Joe was surprised when his son Tyler began religiously working out, gaining muscle at an amazing pace, and then informed him that he'd joined the football team as a recruit. But...

He was certainly glad that it happened. When Tyler came with him to Dallas after the divorce, he had a hard time living alone with the artsy teenager. Joe, a conservative-leaning man wanting to uphold masculine virtues, had a hard time getting along with Tyler, who was very much not interested in masculinity, so to speak.

He didn't expect that to change when his son enrolled in university. Joe's only success was convicting Tyler to stay with him and choose local, and so his son began studying anthropology at Texas Christian University. He seemed to feel comfortable there, having quickly found a small group of nerd--- other kids with similar interests that he now hang around with.

It seemed that Joe's relation with his son wouldn't change substantially despite Tyler beginning a new part of his life. And then one day, somewhere around early October, Tyler came back home reeking of sweat, like he had just ran 10 miles through a desert. He still didn't really speak with Joe, but it was clear that something was going on. A few days later his son came back from college, but instead of his usual backpack, he had a duffel bag on his shoulder. When asked about it he simply required "Dunno dad, it's conformable, I guess."

Joe quickly figured out that Tyler was working out while not at home. But he wasn't really sharing annoying with him, which disappointed Joe a lot. His son wasn't even going to talk to him about the gym, a topic Joe was certainly familiar with, the real man he was.

Then two things happened. Tyler came to him, saying he was joining the football team, and Joe received an e-mail from George Bridges, the head coach of the TCU Horned Frogs football team, requesting a one-on-one conversation.

He agreed, hoping for this to explain the situation. So Joe came to the building of the Athletics Complex at TCU and walked up to Coach Bridges' office. The other man welcomed him and quickly began talking, and as the conversation progressed the grin on Joe's face grew larger and larger.

As Coach explained, there was a dip in the recruiting numbers, so he had to turn to more unorthodox tactics. And that meant infusing Tyler with some real jock musk during a safety seminar taught by Coach Bridges, then taking him and getting his mind accustomed to the idea of becoming a jock.

That of course required getting him high on bro musk and using a few "influencing" techniques Coach learned during his time in the military. After a few of those sessions, carried out in a locker room just after a practice where the smell of jock was still very potent, Tyler joined the other rookies at the gym.

The rookies made sure he quickly caught up with them, which is why Tyler had been coming home drenched in sweat. He was doing an extensive workout routine and, as part of a welcoming ritual, the other football jocks prevented him from taking showers. After a few weeks of almost-daily weights training, Coach made the next big step. He invited Tyler for a talk, during which he made him wear a set of TCU-branded gym gear, and then, using his conversation skills he got in the Army as an instructor at West Point, he eloquently got Tyler to think he was a football jock at heart, which quickly led to Coach accepting Tyler's request to join the team as the freshest recruit - the newest Horned Frog bro.

Joe was surprised by what he heard, for sure. But he was also content, because he knew that his son was now in good hands, and on the right tracks. He expressed his feelings to Coach, saying that he wasn't expecting a coach in the modern days to go to such an extent to fight for his team, but that he was glad there were still men like Coach Bridges in America, working to preserve the traditions of college football.

Things changed for the better in Joe's household. Tyler--- Ty was now eager to spend time with him, talking about practice and shit-talking Baylor and SMU. His room had quickly transformed - textbooks and vinyl records got thrown out or sold, a PS4 and a collection of footballs took their place. The floor was now covered with gym gear - compression shirts, shorts and a few pairs of cleats. It smelled like a locker room, Ty's jock musk always filling every space he entered. There were three gym duffels hanging form the door, always ready for a session with the bros. The walls were now covered with posters showing TCU (and to Joe's delight - Cowboys) players at their best.

Ty also adopted the vocabulary mannerisms of his teammates, which meant Joe was no longer "dad", but "bro" or "dude". He didn't have a problem with at though, at all. In fact, he very much encouraged this "bro talk", seeing it as another step on Ty's journey towards masculinity. Same with spreading legs and openly scratching his crotch. For Joe it was clear that his son was becoming a real man.

Joe was also astounded by the speed at which Ty gained muscle mass, quickly becoming so massive it was impossible to see any difference between him and the other jocks on the team. He quickly got used to Ty flexing at random times - he knew that with guns like these, Ty had every right to show some pride in his gains.

Before the season ended, Ty finished his transformation and officially joined the roster as a defensive end. He was now a prime specimen of an all-american jock and Joe couldn't be prouder, watching his son do tackling drills during open practice. Ty quickly adjusted to the jock lifestyle, changing his majors form anthropology to health & fitness, as it was clear that his cognitive abilities decreased significantly, his mind now focused on football, not that nerd sh--- academic work. He'd much rather join his best bros - Street, Mike and Case - in the gym or in their favorite sports bar that gave out discounts for beer to TCU athletes.

Ty also frequently invited them home, which meant Joe was now used to his living room turning into a space for partying and beer-drinking testosterone-filled football bros. He's now used to the sounds of Madden and the boys grunting as they play against each other filling his house.

Now every time Ty enters the house, his TCU tank top damp with sweat, and his low and empty voice welcomes Joe with a "'am back bro!" or "''ey dude, what's up?", he smiles and thinks how lucky he was to have a son like that. A real man. Now he could get to work, turning Ty from just a football jock to a real patriot like himself.

#football jock #jock tf #nerd to jock tf

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queerpumpkinnn · 8 months

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Kinktober 5th: Goldmine

aka hair pulling with Rodrick Heffley

2k words

Summary: Rod learns something new.

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x reader

Warnings: hair pulling obviously, choking, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv sex (don't do this at home kids), smoking, thigh riding, lots of hickeys/biting, scratching, lots of sweet praise but it's also kinda condescending, this is just porn with very minimal plot, let me know if I missed anything!

While reading, I recommend you listen to the altar is my hips - a Spotify playlist by me!

"Y'think I should get a leather jacket?"

Your shoulders shook under the weight of Rodrick's arm as you chuckled. "Why, you get an idea for a costume?"

"Absolutely. Even got the name for it." You could see the familiar smirk he wore even as your eyes remained on the screen. Smoke billowed in your peripheral, the smell of his near-finished cigarette long since clung to your clothes.

"It'd be a cute couples costume too," he continued, "you could be Tina Gray."

You turned to look at him. "Oh could I now?"

"Yup." He grinned as he put his cigarette out. "You've got the bedroom personality for it too."

You swung a pillow at his face, but Rodrick easily caught it and tossed it behind him. You huffed in false annoyance, falling back into your spot curled up under his arm.

His hand fell absentmindedly to your hair, gently twirling strands around his finger. The sensation makes your eyelids heavy, getting sleepy as he continued to soothe you.

Until you felt a sharp tug. Your eyes flew open, and you audibly gasped. Your entire body froze, and you curse yourself when Rodrick turns his head. A soft "oh?" leaves his lips, which are curled up into a curious smile. It had only been playful tug, but that was before he knew you'd react like that.

"That's not how you do it," you breathe, ghost of a grin teasing your lips.

"Yeah?" His voice was a condescending lilt. "How d'you do it?"

Instead of speaking, you take hold of his wrist, pushing it towards the back of your head. His fingers thread into your roots and he takes a fistful, tugging slowly. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in a deep sigh.

Before your eyes close, you catch a glimpse of your boyfriend's reaction. His eyes are wide and full of amusement, and he's smirking incredulously. His brows raise, and you can see the gears turning in his brain.

"That's interesting," Rodrick mumbled, almost more to himself. "I wonder..."

He climbs up over you, legs caging in on either side of your hips. His foot kicks the TV remote onto the floor but Elm Street is long forgotten. His hold on your hair returns, the tingling in your scalp pulling a weak noise from your throat.

"Now, what would happen..." Rodrick's thought trails off as his fingers ghost over your throat, touch only featherlight until the pads of his fingers find your pulse points and press. Your breathing is shaky and your vision begins to blur, but your hands still fly to his shoulders. You might have even been a little embarrassed at how your hooded eyes began to cross if not for the fact that it just felt so good.

"Aw, y'like that?" Rodrick lilts, his face pulling closer to yours. Heat creeps up your neck.

"Y-yeah," you attempt to nod, but you aren't given much room for movement.

"I like that too, baby." He murmurs against your mouth before he kisses you slowly, tasting of nicotine and gum. They were gentle, teasing kisses, but quickly gave way to a more desperate rhythm as his tongue glided over your lower lip. He hummed a deep note when you let him in, when you whimpered as he started sucking on your tongue.

You let out a disappointed noise when Rodrick lets go of you, rolling back to sit but it's forgotten when he pats his thigh. You quickly oblige, skin heated and brain frazzled.

As soon as you're sat on his leg, the friction to your clit has you gasping into his mouth. Almost involuntarily, your hips began to roll against him, so slowly but enough to make your head swim and heat boil in your gut.

"Oh, sweetness," Rodrick murmurs in between kisses, "so needy already? I've barely done anything."

He knows he doesn't need to do much. Just a few words- or a tug of the hair- and you'd be turned into a pile of mush. He knows you too well, and he loves having that effect over you.

Even though he's teasing you, you can't be bothered to care, muttering an mhm and rutting your hips faster. Your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest, then trail to his thigh to ground yourself.

"Atta girl, keep goin'." Rodrick murmurs in your ear, licking a stripe down the shell of it, planting soft kisses wherever his lips wandered. "'M right here baby, that's it, yeah, good girl."

Rodrick's encouragement was sweet honey to your ear, and a sickening contrast to the hand that hand re-found purchase at your scalp, tilting your head back so that he could teethe at your neck, soft plucks of skin turning into bruising. Deft hands made work of your top, leaving your chest bare.

Your rutting became increasingly frustrated; your thighs burned and you weren't getting any closer to your high.

"Rod... need..." your words were mumbled and breathless, and your brain was too cloudy to be fully coherent anyway.

"Hm? Couldn't hear you, bunny, say that one more time?"

"Need more," you cried, hands pushing into Rodrick's hair when his tongue laved over your nipple.

"More what, baby?" He lilted, cupping and pinching your other tit lovingly. He groaned when your fingers clutched his hair tighter.

"Need you, Rod please..." you sighed, tugging at his wrist.

Rodrick chuckled. "Baby, I don't think I can do that. Might hurt you if I don't get you nice and prepped, yeah? How about we start with fingers?"

"Anything, please," you babbled, nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder.

"Alright, alright, I got ya. Let's get these off, hm?" He tugged at the belt loop of your pants. They were off in record time, along with your underwear, leaving your entire body bared to him. You felt naked, more than just literally.

Once you were situated on his lap again you tried pulling on the hem of his shirt. "Off," you mumbled. Happily he complied, and you took the opportunity to lean forward and plant loving kisses to his neck, his collarbone.

You didn't realize when you'd risen up off your behind that it gave Rodrick the space to slip a hand between your legs, pulling a squeak out of you, muffled against his jaw.

"Aw, so messy baby. A little hair pulling did all this?"

You knew that it was a few other things, but you were so far gone you gave him a whiny 'yeah' anyway. Rodrick's fingers massaged your entrance, gathering slick and smothering it around your clit, making obscene noises- probably on purpose.

"So fuckin' wet, sweet, y'hear that?" Rodrick presses kisses to your pulse point, up to your jaw, then kisses you deep. Swallowing your moans into his mouth as the kiss turns messy.

"Please, Rod..." you're breathless and your pleas are barely coherent, but Rodrick knows exactly what you're asking for. You keel when you feel a finger glide into you, curling up towards your stomach.

"Yeah, good fuckin' girl." Rodrick's grin widens at your reaction when a second finger joins the first. "Always so eager, hm? That's my girl."

"Yeah, 'm your girl," you pant, hips canting to meet his hand.

"That's right," he coos, thumb tracing wide circles over your clit. "So proud of you, my girl."

"Rod," you whine, "need you."

"Hm?" He hums between nips to your collarbone. "You have me."

You shake your head vigorously. "Need you inside."

This gets Rodrick's attention. His fingers slow, while his free hand moves from your hair to his pants. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock out from his boxers. You watch as he takes his fingers, soaked from your cunt, and wrap them around himself, stroking slowly. His head falls back against the couch, lips hanging open and you feel the sudden urge to bite them.

Before you get the chance, however, Rodrick is pulling you forward, lining himself up to take you. Slowly, so slowly, he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, smearing your slick around. You jerk when his head catches on your clit, sending electricity shooting up your spine.

"Rod..." you whine against his neck, "please."

"Please what?" You want to slap him for the knowing glint in his eye, but that was for another day.

"Please fuck me."

And who was he to deny you? Guiding your hip, Rodrick eased you down on him, guiding you but letting you set your own pace. The stretch set your loins on fire, but it was heaven.

Your head kicked back, and you let your voice have a mind of its own as you sunk down on him. Long and pornographic, and Rodrick matched it. You felt him throb inside of you.

"Fuck, sound so pretty." Rodrick started rolling his hips into you, and you cried out at the sensation. "Yeah, that's it. Moan like a fuckin' whore for me, c'mon."

And who were you to deny him? You had the house to yourself, and the name alone sent your brain into overdrive. He filled you up so nicely, and the drag of his cock inside of you made your skin tingle with delight.

"Rod, yeah, oh- just like that, ohmygod-" your voice was caught in your throat when Rodrick, with the usual knowing twinkle in his eye, takes a fistful of hair and tugs you forward into a sloppy kiss.

All of the sensations- that Rodrick was giving you- were sending you closer and closer to tumbling headfirst off of that ledge. The sting in your scalp, his tongue sliding against yours, the sounds of wet slaps and your combined moans. The smell of cigarettes and the heat of his skin under your fingers. The head of his cock piledriving into your cervix again and again and again.

"Rod I- oh god, I'm gonna- oh, so close- Rod please," you pant into his mouth, fingers raking down his chest and leaving faint red lines in their wake.

"I gotcha," he grunts, hand snaking between your bodies to press circles over your clit. You can hear it in his voice that he's holding back. You don't want him to. "That's it, baby, come for me. Make a mess on my cock, c'mon."

That extra pleasure is all it takes to have you diving headfirst into a mind-numbing orgasm. Your eyes screw shut, and all you can feel is Rodrick. Shaky hands rest on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as hot pleasure courses through you.

You're acutely aware of the hot spurts hitting your cervix, and the fluids seeping out of you, but your body is still tingling all over. Your voice has long since become scratchy, but that doesn't stop you from whimpering and crying as he coaxes you through it.

"Good girl, did so good for me, yeah?" His grip on your hair is no longer a grip, but gentle, soothing strokes, almost as if to apologize.

You hummed, dropping your forehead against his shoulder as you breathe. The smell of sex had permeated the air around you, and you were suddenly very aware of how sweaty you'd become.

"Think we need a shower, baby, c'mon." Rodrick nudged your head.

You wanted to, you felt sticky, but your body was on fire, this time with a less-than-pleasurable ache. Begrudgingly, you lifted yourself off of his now soft dick, hobbling down to reach for your clothes and then to the nearest bathroom.

The shower was peaceful, and the water was soothing on your muscles. You both worked in a comfortable silence.

"Well, I was right." Rodrick finally said.

"About what, the hair pulling?"

"Nope."

You turned around to face him, head tilted in confusion. His mouth was curled upwards and his eyes were lifted in a smile.

"You do have the bedroom personality of Tina Gray."

Rodrick Heffley Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Miscellaneous Characters List

Main Masterlist

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley smut #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley fanfic #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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traceybrakes · 7 months

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Let's Talk About Un-ironicizing Art!

In light of a lot of the conversations i've seen surrounding Death Grips and recent events concerning them, I want to take the time to point out that this is a good time to start thinking about how we engage with art on the whole!

For a long time, the irony poisoned method of consumption went unchecked in all facets of internet culture. As an internet musician in current day, I have noticed a sharp disconnect between artists and enthusiasts/casual listeners when it comes to attitudes surrounding music specifically, though I've witnessed it permeate all forms of art in some way.

I see people who have grown scared to engage on deeper levels, intentionally severing any resonant connections or knowledge learned from a piece of media before it has the chance to take root. In short, dare to be vulnerable! Dare to enjoy something on the basis that you yourself resonate with it, and not for any other nebulous reasoning. When masses of people relegate art to a spectacle, not only do artists become more likely to be disenchanted with the passions that fuel their work, but the consumer base ultimately suffers as well. All art at that point becomes less an extension of ourselves, less a vehicle to explore our identities, and is rendered a meaningless hulking sludge, or worse, the opponent to an already shrinking and narrow worldview.

Be not afraid to be unabashedly in love with the work that inspires you. Be not afraid to have the things you love misunderstood by by some. When you engage with work new and old, make sure to do it for yourself. Making and consuming art is inherently selfish, but being selfish is not inherently misguided. Allow yourself to learn, grow, discover, and repeat that cycle until the day you die.

To speak more candidly about my own experience, throughout the course of my life, there has been art that I've held near and dear to my identity, and own journey of self discovery that I seldom find others who hold the same sentiments to. I've always found this exciting. Exciting to hold something close to my chest as something so personal, and even more exciting when I can ease up on that grip when I find someone who I can share that with. However, I've also been through the throws of how the internet tends to chew up and spit out art that generally isn't understood by the many. I've fallen victim myself to the hive mind mentality that circles some artists and the cult of non-identity around them. This off-color ouroboros of knowing all about an artist's work and simultaneously upholding this facade of vapid complacency. I've come to the conclusion that if being openly supportive and connected to an artist's work or a particular piece of work automatically renders a person uninteresting and unambiguous at the very least, then I will live happily as an uninteresting open book. At the worst times, we see this line of thinking contribute to Death Grips being mocked and belittled en masse by people who are unwilling to engage with their art before they even get that far. It's heartbreaking, to me at least to see people put so much effort, emotion, and passion into transforming culture for the better to be rewarded with a crowd that's plugging their ears.

I realize I run the risk of sounding pretentious, self indulgent, or even patronizing to an extent; I apologize because that isn't my intention, I'm hoping to see gears shift at least on a micro level surrounding attitudes towards art appreciation. Remember to dare to be in love holistically with the art you engage with! Speak of the things you love in a way that makes that clear to others, and consider your peers to do the same! You and the people around you can only be better off for it.

#long post #really long post #music #death grips #the internet is full of bright and beautiful art so why not help yourself

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missmugiwara · 1 month

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A Secret

Summary: gn!reader x Luffy // What happens when you tell the captain a secret? Turns out, it makes him really happy! And he only wants more.

Warning: 18+, suggestive, very flirty, did I make Luffy a slight dom?

Note: I think one of my favorite things about writing for Luffy is that it's kind of hard. But he's my sweetie pie so I'm not complaining.

✦ Word count is 2.2k ✦

Luffy's strength was no secret.

Everyone knew that. It was also no secret that he always got stronger. Sometimes, it seemed like the Straw Hat Pirates were always moving from one adventure to the next, never taking a break. So how did Luffy have the time between fights to find new moves and new gears to try?

Maybe he didn't do it as much as Zoro, but there were instances where you caught the captain training. Sometimes it was on boring days like today where you happened to be parked at some random island for Franky to do routine maintenance to the Sunny.

Luffy's breath was heavy, mouth wide open to release hot pants. His red ruffle-sleeved shirt and yellow sash were chucked off to the side, bunched in a sloppy pile on the ground with his precious straw hat gingerly laid on top. His scarred chest heaved with each breath he took, muscles tensing deliciously. A thin layer of sweat covered his entire body, forming delicate beads of moisture to glisten in the sun. His hair splayed across his forehead and around his face in cute, damp waves from the moisture. It was certainly a sight to behold. The captain was positively mouthwatering, and only one thing crossed your mind at that moment.

You loved him so much.

It was always so hard to take your eyes off him. With feet crunching against the grass, you walked up some distance behind him and just silently admired. A tender smile etched its way onto your lips, and you sighed longingly at Luffy. He had one fist pulled back, while his other free hand - palm outstretched, thumb pointed downward - took aim at the air, and he punched. He repeated this move again and again, grunting and panting the entire time. As he continued with that focused, steady gaze in his eyes. As beads of sweat flew off his body.

He was so strong.

Did anyone ever tell him he looked so good?

A warm heat feathered over your cheeks, and your eyes perked up at the thought. And so, feeling rather bold, you snickered and took a step forward. You almost changed your mind. Then, using every ounce of courage, you merrily called after him.

"Luffy!"

The rubber man turned lazily to the call of his name. With an open-mouth releasing more pants, he tiredly smiled. And then his gaze grew more excited when he registered it was you of all people who called with such adoration. You, who was running toward him. You, who he could never get mad at. You, who lit up with joy every moment you saw him.

The sweetest face he had ever seen, and all his. Well, you were your own person - he didn't own you, and he knew that. But you were his. Somehow. His crewmate. His friend. His… something.

One day, he would gladly say the words: you're so much more to him. That much he knew, but what word could he use? Luffy always knew how to get right to the heart of things that needed saying most - but not today. Seeing your smile was enough, and there was way too much on his mind regarding everyone's safety in Wano.

"Do you wanna know a secret?" you grinned.

A secret? And just for his ears only? He already felt special enough with that smile you gave him. Nobody else ever got that smile.

You slowed to a stop when you collided into his back, pressing your chest to him. You didn't give him a chance to answer when you wrapped one arm around him, gently slapping your hand to his chest. The sweat upon him sticking you to him, and you did not care in the slightest how much it made your shirt wet. With the other free hand, you cupped it to his ear.

"Hey, did you know…" and you whispered into his ear, lips brushing against the shell of it as Luffy's eyes slowly widened.

The words were nearly lost in the breeze.

A red blush dusted over his cheeks, and his lips parted in response. Before he could turn and ask if you reeeally meant what you just said, you giggled and peeled yourself from him. You stepped back, hands clasped innocently behind your back and grinning so much that your eyes clamped shut.

"Huh? Really?" Luffy asked in disbelief.

"Oh, yes!" you nodded your head erratically.

Luffy still stared in shock, and you still smiled. There was a pause before the captain blinked at you, then smirked. He stood a bit taller and a bit prouder, puffing out his chest. He turned back but to a tree this time, taking his usual fighting stance. His fist flew back, and then forward as he launched it into the tree - completely breaking it in two as it fell to the ground with a loud thud. A few of your friends looked up in worry at the loud noise, then disregarded it once they realized it was just Luffy being Luffy. You beamed widely as ever, before giving a wave and returning to your spot next to Robin. She was seated underneath an umbrella and sipping tea.

She smiled and poured a cup for you. Trying not to come off as pyring, she asked, "What did you tell Luffy to put him in such a good mood?"

You grabbed the cup of tea and smiled profusely. She wouldn't dare tease you like the others if you answered honestly. Robin could be told things you could not tell others. And she knew you liked the captain very much so.

"I just told him… well, I said: hey, did you know that you're really sexy?"

Robin seemed surprised at the unexpectedly brazen comment. She was looking down at her cup, then her blue eyes immediately darted to meet yours. You said that to Luffy? A pause before she grinned.

"Oh? Is that so? I'm happy for you."

And Luffy seemed pretty happy about it too.

It was a major risk you took that day, but since then you were smitten even moreso because he responded in such a… pleasant way. So Luffy was the kind of person who understood sex appeal. It was settled then - you wanted to flirt more. You wanted to be more vocal about how you felt. To drop more hints, as ironic as it was because Luffy didn't need subtlety; he needed blunt words. However, the rising butterflies in your stomach told you that testing the waters was further needed. It was really just an excuse to cover up a rising bout of shyness.

It seemed he was not as naïve as his crewmates thought, and he truly understood this game. And really, how did anyone not notice how attractive he was? Zoro and Sanji got attention all the time, but what about the captain? The star of the crew? He was certainly charming in his own ways. And so this game of yours did not let up anytime soon.

"Who's that good-looking guy in the straw hat?"

You waved at him, calling out with a hand cupped to your mouth. Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji walked toward the ship after being in town to buy supplies. Each of them had sacks of food tied to their backs, and Luffy broke out into a huge ear-to-ear smile. He laughed, a blush ever-present at his face. Zoro rolled his eyes, and Sanji's smile faded when he realized - oh, you were speaking to the captain, not him.

"Me? Oh, stop!" and Luffy would blush and blush, identical to the way he blushed when any of his crewmates said he was strong or reliable. The sight was too cute not to eat up. At least he was getting it now, because the first time you said that Luffy whipped his head around. With squinted eyes, he kept asking who was this guy until you bursted out laughing. This was really funny because it was so cute and so like him to do that.

"What a man."

You would purr so lowly when he passed by, especially if he had just defended the weak and beat someone up - panting, sweaty, delicious as usual. Boy, was being in Wano such a treat. Luffy's ears would prick at the sound of your honeyed tone, and sometimes they turned red. He would quickly turn to meet your lidded gaze, your eyes wandering up and down his shirtless self - and the blush would return to his face. He would break out into a loud laugh after he processed the words you graced him with.

The flirting was fun, truly. Yet sometimes you wondered if anything more would happen after all the effort. It had to, right?

What were you even waiting for?

Such questions did not cross your mind at this particular moment though. As usual, Robin and you were passing the time once again while the Sunny sailed off to another adventure. The topic of conversation was another good book you both had read in your little two-person bookclub. Luffy walked by, a tiny smirk at his lips, as you and Robin laughed about something silly in the last chapter.

Luffy froze once he got past far enough. Something was off. Quickly, he whipped his head around to furrow his brows in frustration. He pointed his gaze at you… and pouted. A cute grumble escaped his lips, and with his fists balled to his sides and arms swaying, he tromped right over.

Between the fits of laughter and conversing, you didn't even hear Luffy's feet crunch in the grass behind you - picking up speed. And what really took you by surprise was when one of Luffy's rubbery hands suddenly grasped your jaw between his thumb and fingers, and he turned your face so you could see him. It went without saying that the laughter immediately stopped, and you and the archaelogist froze in place.

You blinked once. Luffy just held your face, not enough to hurt you because he would never, as you two locked gazes. His breath felt hot on your lips. In turn, your own breath was caught in your chest as your face ignited into flustered heat because - well, because he never held you like this and at such closeness too. Something must have been troubling him.

"What's… what's wrong, captain?"

Oh, you were right about something being wrong. Luffy cocked his head to the side in an attempt to deepen his focus. He was really studying your face, and it only got warmer the more he stared.

"You didn't say anything!" he whined.

Another blink or two from you, and Luffy's grip loosened on your face.

"Loofs, I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You didn't say anything… you know - fun and nice. To me. Like you always do."

Another moment for you to process, and the lightbulb went off in your head. Ohhh! He wanted another - oh, yes. You almost wanted to laugh because apparently it was really that much of a habit by now.

How dare you forget to take care of your precious captain?

With face still in his hand, your eyes darted off to the side. For the third time, your cheeks went even hotter. And you didn't know why this bout of shyness ran over you all of a sudden. Perhaps it was because you were the one always catching him off guard, flustering him so deeply. Not the other way around. So you took a second to think, but you hadn't planned anything yet for that day. So in a small voice, you answered him quickly, truthfully, and without much thought.

"Hottie."

You nearly moaned under your breath. The blush dusting over his rubbery cheeks and the wide smile he bore was enough to let you know he was satisfied. Robin sat in awe (you two completely forgot she was still there) but then brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

And Luffy grinned.

"Keep talking like that. I like it!"

Oh, the way he looked at you made your heart thrum in your chest. The way he held your face, making you lock eyes. Gently, he released your frazzled self. Your jaw dropped into a suprised, open-mouthed smile. Trying to ignore the fact that Luffy said he liked it, you diverted your attention to the first part of his somewhat confession.

"Oh, you think you can boss me around like that, huh?" You smirked, taking a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

Luffy was walking away, but he paused midstep. He turned his head to peek over his shoulder, his bright eyes staring directly into your soul. The wind blew to ruffle his jet black hair and the brim of his beloved straw hat before his eyes grew lidded.

"Of course! I'm the captain here. Besides… you looove doing what I say. You always do, and you never refuse."

With that, he walked off.

And there you sat, flustered to oblivion as you brought a hand to to cover your growing smile. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Robin wink.

#luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x y/n #mugi writes

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mokulule · 7 months

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A Man has Needs part 1

This will hopefully be a short thing, maybe three or four parts. Silly with a small dash of angst for flavor. Also someone needs to stop me from starting new stories, instead of indulging my insanity.

Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)

It had been an exhausting Friday, people were out celebrating the weekend and payday both. To top it off it was prime petty crime weather too with no rain. It was a patrol that would never end. Crime Alley had really lived up to its name tonight.

Jason was exhausted. Not because anything had been particularly challenging or dangerous, but it had just been one very long night of constant stupid little crimes.

It was five in the morning and his bed was calling him. He’d already stashed his gear in storage on the roof and he was so close to being home he could practically feel the soft sheets, the promise of sleep. The open bathroom window was a bother when he was this tired. Maybe he should have just gone down to the street and walked in the door, but keys also seemed like such a bother right now and more stairs… No, window was fine, he was in.

Bed. Now.

He bumped into something outside the bathroom door. Fuzzily he looked down to see a moving box - odd. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, he’d deal with that in the morning. Bed, comfort, safe.

He stumbled into the bedroom when it turned out the door wasn’t properly shut just pushed mostly closed.

Okay check list. Boots off. What else? Pants off, shirt off. He’d pick up in the morning. Did he forget anything? Toothbrush. He glanced backwards halfheartedly, he’d already left the bathroom; bed was right there.

The bed won. Tomorrow he would deal with teeth.

Tomorrow…

He crawled under the sheets. Warm and nice and safe and mmmmh he snuggled closer to the source, breathing in mint and something biting like frosty morning air. His nose buried into soft short hair and breathed in deep again. Good. Amazing. Safe. Sated.

Sleep.

Oo o oO

Danny turned and stretched with a yawn. He frowned when something held him into place. Must have gotten himself caught in the sheets again. It wasn’t a problem, he just slipped away intangibly, rolling to the edge of the bed to reach blindly for the night table.

Where was the phone? It took him a moment but finally it connected with his hand.

He groaned when he saw the time, it was nearly midday. Jazz would frown at him for already messing his sleep schedule up, but he’d just wanted to get as much set up in his apartment as possible, that had to be an okay excuse? He turned back on his back and looked at the light dancing across the ceiling from the light breeze moving the curtains. Okay time to get up. He had another day of unpacking today.

He got out and stretched absently. He turned around intending to make his bed if only to look responsible for when Jazz would come later to see the apartment.

He turned and promptly clapped his hands over his mouth to contain the frightened scream.

There was a guy in his bed! How was there a guy in his bed?! Ancients, what the fuck?!

Wait.

Danny tilted his head, eyes trailed down the muscular and scarred back, to a well shaped butt, which the tight boxers did very little to hide, and then those thighs!

There was a hot guy in Danny’s bed!

Focus Danny. He shook his head and slapped himself for good measure. That wasn’t what was important right now - though those thighs… Ancients, Danny would happily die again crushed by them.

No!

What was important was somehow there was a (hot) stranger in his bed. Danny had not invited him, of that he was sure. He had been unpacking yesterday, there had been no consumption of ghost zone alcohol yesterday, which could otherwise explain the lack of memory.

Which meant the guy had for some reason entered Danny’s apartment and slept with him - in the boring ordinary sense, Danny lamented this fact quietly for a moment.

Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t woken up, he slept, well, like the dead. The only thing that would wake him was very loud noises (like his alarm or his Dad’s inside voice) or occasionally his ghost sense.

It wasn’t even that Danny was surprised to find a bedmate. It was rare that Danny slept alone these days. He was, no matter how you put it, a very powerful ghost and he gave off a lot of good concentrated ambient ectoplasm.

Sometime last year the blobs and animal ghosts in Amity had started to join him every now and then when he slept. According to Frostbite it wasn’t so strange. They fed on the energy he gave off and also benefitted from his presence, which apparently radiated safety.

At first he’d been woken up by his ghost sense every time, but he’d gotten to a point where he just subconsciously dismissed the sense when the ghosts in question didn’t have ill intentions.

So Danny wasn’t surprised he wasn’t alone. He’d expected a bit more time to pass before whatever weak ghosts might be around figured out he was here, but you don’t wake up six days out of seven with cuddly animal ghosts in your bed and get surprised by it.

No, Danny was surprised by the fact that it was a guy. A human. A person. With muscled arms and- Oh, Danny realized cheeks heating up, that probably hadn’t been the sheets he’d been stuck in earlier.

Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned in despair.

Why was there a guy in his bed? Why couldn’t there be a guy in his bed for normal reasons? Danny would have brought this guy to his bed for normal bringing a guy to bed reasons.

He crawled onto the bed intending to wake the stranger, but as he reached out for the guy’s shoulder he turned leaning into the touch and sighed like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders.

Danny was frozen, staring at the point of contact. He could sense it now: the man’s malnourished ghost core.

Danny swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing the many scars on the man’s back in a different light and that pure white streak in the otherwise black hair, it all seemed so obvious now.

The man was a halfa, or halfa adjacent. Because that was definitely warm human flesh underneath Danny’s hand.

So incredibly, unbelievably, absurdly this was essentially the same situation as usual, except not at all, because this was a person. Humanoid ghosts and ghosts with human-like or above intelligence didn’t do this. There were social conventions in place and not to mention they were usually powerful enough on their own to not need the ectoplasm.

But this guy was malnourished. He probably never had a good stable source of ectoplasm to properly develop his metabolism. Also to Danny’s metaphysical senses he smelled like he’d done the ghostly equivalent of dumpster diving to survive. Danny’s ectoplasmic aura had to be like the siren call of a buffet table.

Shit.

New plan. Danny was not gonna embarrass the poor guy. The situation was weird enough as it was. Danny was just gonna act like this was normal. Danny woke up with guests practically every day.

This was a person, not an animal, therefore petting was out of the question, so coffee.

Coffee was normal to offer guests. Also Danny needed coffee. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and floated off the bed to enter his combined kitchen and living room. The coffee machine was the first thing he got set up yesterday, clearly smart of past Danny.

It wouldn’t be long before his guest awoke with Danny no longer in the room to supply passive ectoplasm.

Maybe his human stomach wanted food too?

Oo o oO

Jason woke up with his head and nose buried in a pillow that smelled wonderful and comfortable somehow. He breathed in deep, catching mint and that biting cold he vaguely remembered from last night. Now, however he wasn’t dead on his feet, he was awake, more rested than he remember feeling for a long time and his brain connected the details into very alarming facts:

This was not his pillow. This was not his bed.

He sat up, quickly taking in the bare white walls and the stack of emptied and flattened moving boxes leaning against the wall next to a built-in closet.

This was very much not his apartment.

There was a noise of a cupboard clanging shut and Jason’s head snapped to the door that was open just a crack; he was not alone.

Shit.

He jumped out of bed, bending his knees upon impact to soften the sound. He needed to leave. Where was his clothes? His gaze darted around and he hurried to pick up his discarded items of clothing as he found them. Somehow one of his boots had ended up under the bed.

Quickly he pulled on the jeans and the shirt, was he wearing a jacket yesterday? He didn’t remember. Boots on and then he was going out the window- except there was the scent of coffee and something in the air. What was that smell?

He found himself moving to the door instead. The door squeaked as he pulled it open and he froze, hand still on the door handle, when the sound drew the attention of the young man in the kitchen.

His hair was black and sleep tousled, he had a slender athletic build and as he walked around the kitchen island bearing two cups it became apparent he was just wearing boxers. Jason’s inspection ended on his legs, which were admittedly very nice. When he looked back up he found the man standing a cautious distance away and a cute pink blush stretched all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sky blue eyes looked up a him from underneath slightly frowning brows.

“So, you’re awake,” the man opened with an admirable attempt at a smile considering the situation. There was a beat of silence in which Jason grasped for what to even say, then the man reached his hand forward offering one of the cups, “coffee?”

There were many a thing Jason could say or should say. Like, what the fuck? You’re just gonna offer the guy who broke into your apartment coffee? Or, I’m sorry I broke into your apartment (and bed!)? And, why do you sleep with your windows open and unlocked? This is freaking Crime Alley! Or, what is it that smells so good?

What he actually said was a quiet, “yes, please.”

The cup was warm in his hands as he sipped it. And clearly this was enough for the cute guy because his smile turned more real and he nodded to himself and walked back to the kitchen counter. Jason really hoped that didn’t mean the coffee was poisoned.

“Feel free to take a seat. I hope you like pop tarts, it’s kinda all that I have at the moment.” As if summoned the toaster made a swish noise popping up the tarts. Hesitantly Jason sat down at the small square table paired with two mismatched foldable chairs. He really should turn and jump out a window. There had to be some kind of reckoning coming. Maybe the guy really cared about hospitality and Jason would be questioned after the food? Maybe that’s what was going on.

But also strangely his gut was telling him he was safe here? He really had no clue what to do with that.A paper plate with a pop tart was set down in front of him and after setting down his own pop tart and coffee the man joined him.

Jason was supremely aware of the few inches between their knees. This wasn’t a large table after all and if he moved just slightly they would be touching. But why would he want them to be touching? Why was it so tempting?

Jason clenched his hands firmly and stared down at the pop tart, with an intensity born of the fact that for some reason he had to focus on not knocking knees with a stranger.

“You look at that poor pop tart as if you think it’s gonna explode, that’s not actually what pop tart means, you know.”

Jason looked up at the guy in disbelief.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah that was terrible I know.”

Silence stretched between them and clearly embarrassed the guy hastily took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his pop tart avoiding Jason’s gaze.

Guilt twisted in Jason’s chest, not only did he invade his home he was also making him uncomfortable. His only comfort was the fact that the guy clearly wasn’t afraid of him.

Jason started eating the pop tart. For whatever the reason breakfast was part of the script the guy had decided on to make an attempt at normalcy. What else was Jason to do? He hadn’t fled when he had the chance and-

Oh-

The guy had shifted in his chair, one of their knees were touching, there was a spark and it felt like something uncurled inside him, a weight lifted. Jason blinked. This was…Mint and frost was a sting in his nose, a fullness in his chest. Goose bumps ran along his arms, and it tingled all the way to his fingertips.

Jason snapped his head up, but the guy was just looking at his phone sipping his coffee. As if he couldn’t feel the cold electricity between them. There was no way he could sit like that if he felt it? Was Jason just imagining it? He shuddered and moved slightly, just enough that they weren’t touching and instantly he regretted it. The wave of longing was almost enough to make his vision black out.

The guy looked up with a frown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine,” Jason said hoarsely, desperately focusing on the half eaten pop tart and taking another bite.

When the pop tarts were eaten and the cups emptied the man stood and Jason matched him. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at this point but it certainly wasn’t the guy, to walk over to his front door with a casual, “well I should get ready for the day.”It was a clear dismissal. An out for the whole strange situation. Jason stood up and walked over to the door.

The guy opened the door letting Jason out with a short electrifying clap on the back and a “Take care, man.”

Jason was left standing outside the door to the previously empty apartment 4A, several floors below Jason’s own top floor apartment. How did he ever mistake it for his own?

What was the deal with the guy’s touch and why did Jason crave it so desperately?

Unsettled. he started walking towards the stairwell. As he moved further away from the apartment the pull to go back lessened. It was still there, but it was replaced quickly by something else.

He felt rested, energized in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. There was an urge to do something. He felt like he could take on the world - maybe even Sunday dinner at the manor tomorrow.

Jason laughed. Wouldn’t that surprise everyone?

He was so caught up in the euphoria of productivity and social interactions that didn’t go sour for the next couple of days, that he completely forgot about the strange Saturday morning.

If you liked this consider telling me your thoughts in the replies or tags, it is motivating. Now to hopefully write a bit on Catnip. Edit: Masterpost now up if you wanna subscribe

#dp x dc #dead on main #a man has needs #Danny is trying his best to pretend this is normal #and okay #Jason has no clue whatsoever.

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citrine-elephant · 2 years

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me: *trying to not go feral over tiny details, trying to play it cool and focus on that amazing ass story*

also me: they did my mans so dirty

#new tales from the borderlands spoilers #ntftbl spoilers #spoilers #i always headcanoned he probably smelled good #i mean besides being covered in blood and shit i just thought he'd take care of that aspect #I GUESS NOT LMAO #or marcus is bullying him #also am shocked his stats are weak #also NOT shocked because playing him IS a pain in the ARSE without good gear #look i'm...#i've got... some problems... i uh #the uhm #the story was good and i'm so happy to have played #very excited for those lore implications

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katy-l-wood · 2 years

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I've seen a lot of posts welcoming new Tumblr users, but I haven't seen any welcoming old users BACK. So, if you're returning, here's some fun new stuff Tumblr has added. Some of this may be desktop only right now, but Tumblr has been very good about migrating features to mobile without too much delay. I'm also primarily a desktop user, so some buttons may be in different spots on mobile.

You can now turn off reblogs on your posts, even the old ones. Click on the little gear icon at the top of the post window and towards the bottom to set reblogs to "anyone" or "no one."

You can have up to 30 images in a post now! Just be sure to be respectful and tag it as a long post.

Speaking of long posts, you can now set tumblr to automatically shorten anything over a certain length. It's under Settings>Dashboard.

Tumblr now has content labels, which is what has allowed them to bring back mature content art. These are important, so please use them. You can turn them on on each post individually by clicking the "everyone" drop down next to the "post now" button. And you can control how your dashboard shows or doesn't show labeled posts by going to Settings>Account.

You can now filter tags and post content via tumblr itself without using something like XKit! This is also under Settings>Account.

Tumblr offers an ad-free subscription now. $40 a year. If you love this little hellsite, this is a great way to show support!

Tumblr also allows users to pay to turn their posts into ads now. It's called blazing a post. It is great fun and generally hilarious. You have no control over your audience. You're just yeeting your post, of any sort, not just advertising, off into the void. An ad-free subscription hides these posts, but you can in fact turn blazed posts specifically back on while blocking the rest of the ads. Blaze a post by clicking on the little flame icon at the bottom. You can only blaze your own posts.

You can buy fun little tchotchkys for your dashboard and, sometimes, the dashboards of others. Right now we've got crabs, a horse that shits everywhere, and the super special double blue checkmarks. These are just fun little things to play with.

You can now enable tipping on your blog/individual posts. Totally optional, of course, but can be useful if you're a creator.

Staff has been a lot more active this last year, so if you want to keep up with what is going on be sure to follow @staff, @changes, and @wip.

That's all I can think of. Everyone else is free to add to this!

#Tumblr #Welcome Back #Welcome Back to Tumblr #Twitter Meltdown

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ystrike1 · 3 months

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MY SWEET BUNNY CAGE - By Uruu akua (8.5/10)

I think more popular ASMR CD's should get comic releases. Specifically high quality comic releases. Sometimes yandere comics aren't worth buying, and that's the awful truth. Awkward art styles. Bad endings. The genre is still full of "passable" content. This is the whole package. A good CD and a good comic with great art. Very worth collecting.

Our heroine is a spunky brat. A petite woman that doesn't get taken seriously at work. Everybody dotes on her, because she looks so young. She's frustrated by it. She hates it. She's a fully grown adult with a good career. She thinks her kindly coworkers are very annoying.

They tell her she shouldn't walk alone at night, because she's an obvious target for pervs.

She doesn't listen.

She argues with a weird guy that seems drunk, or even mentally ill, confidently.

She can take care of herself.

She wakes up in a degrading, frilly outfit. Her room looks like a castle fit for a princess. Her hair has been expertly done and her handcuffs are frilly lace bands.

The weirdo from before has kidnapped her.

She doesn't know him.

He's not secretly her childhood friend.

He's nuts.

She protests pretty hard. Crazy guy is rude, presumptuous, handsome....and unbothered. He seems to think he's above the law. Possibly because he's rich. Custom BDSM gear is expensive. The crystal chandeliers everywhere are a dead giveaway too.

He's not crazy and stupid.

He has a plan.

He tries to explain. She looks like his old pet. That's why he took her. He totally didn't plan ahead. Ignore the tailored outfits. He's totally not using the rabbit thing as an excuse to take her specifically. He totally didn't wait until she was alone at night. He doesn’t exactly hide it. The rabbit excuse is full of creepy layers. In his twisted head it somehow justifies his stalking and the kidnapping, and his overall ownership of her.

Her catty attitude makes him fall even further. It kind of saves her, I think. Before he wasn't interested in her real name. He was just going to give her his rabbits name. When she lashes out at him he asks for her real name, which could indicate that he started following her purely because she is his type looks wise.

She continues to resist, so he cuts up her cards. He takes her phone. He destroys her things in front of her. He doesn’t care if she's bored. He wants his new pet to wait for him. To like his company....because life is boring and theres nothing else to do.

Gags, ropes, chains, threats. Kesedo isn't gentle all the time. Rabbit is convinced that he will kill her if she doesn't cooperate.

He just wants affection though. Really bad. He tries to buy her love with sweetness just as often. His logic is very twisted, but again I like his arrogance. He behaves as if winning is natural for him, and Rabbit is just throwing a tantrum because she's hungry.

She attacks.

He likes that too.

His character design is fun as well. This is in a modern setting. His frilly sense of style actually indicates he's a fan of Lolita fashion and cute things. It's not JUST a standard prince outfit. It's a preference.

Also, this story is getting an extension, and I trust it will get better.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #MY SWEET BUNNY CAGE #lolita fashion

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iosagol · 5 months

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The Boy and the Heron, lads

*lying facedown on the sofa*

Spoilers, all the spoilers

So can we talk about the cyclical nature of life and death

The way the past and future are linked to one another and just because the past doesn't get to be the future, it doesn't mean that's bad

"In the future I am dead," Himi says, essentially. "I am not afraid. You have seen me as I want to be remembered, and I have left books for you to open and leave open, and even though I'm not going to be alive anymore, I once was, and I loved you."

The fact that Himi's little sister is no more recovered from the grief than Mahito

she's grieving too over her sister, but her sister's husband is now her husband and did she really want this to happen? and she's having this baby

It's a lot to handle because someone she loves just died and right after this she's bringing a new life into a vicious world in the middle of this war

And she has this boy now that looks like her sister

so she goes into the forest looking for that peace that isn't at home

and just she's lying in that room with those circling…. fans? Fans made of bandages(?) just spinning around her it's a cycle of hurt and patching up wounds and getting hurt again and patching up wounds until her stepson is webbed in it and she's webbed in it and both of them are so in pain and trying to patch up their wounds and it doesn't do them any good

The fact that in order to find his mom, our boy Mahito has to go into the Secondary/Underworld and he has to get a fish and he has to survive and draw water and go looking for this woman and descend into the abyss and come out again and he has to shun power

It gives Spirited Away, almost, except Chihiro had to learn to mature in the sense that she had to consider others and respect and learn manners

she has to respect others

meanwhile Mahito has to learn to forgive himself for not saving someone he loves

he has to respect himself and stop hurting himself and be open to love again

So he's just... Living, for the most part, it seems. He's gutting that fish and eating jam and butter on bread and also soup and he has to bicker with Heron and drink tea and steer a boat and observe the complexities of life and death

He's living and healing

But really, there's no balance to the Secondary/Underworld the greatuncle made because he wanted every creature to thrive within it

And if all you have is life on top of life, then creatures are going to start killing each other

The pelicans are starving because the fish can't be eaten, they turn on the waro-waro, the humans rush to protect the waro-waro, both sides are burned

happiness for one and all is competitive, it's cutthroat

The fact that coming home looking scraped isn't enough, Mahito has to slam a rock into his head

He says it's to prove he fell down, but really that's the biggest mark of human violence

And he does it to himself maybe because he's just so angry with himself for being alive and well, while his mother isn't, and he needs to level that playing field to feel better

Self-flagellation

The overboldness of the dad, how he packs all his human gear and tries to elbbow his way into the Fae and it does him no good

how he tries to solve his kid's problems by again elbowing his way in and that also does nothing

The fact that our boy Mahito realizes something is wrong with the old ladies on sight

something about them is very inhuman

when he first sees them the look on his face he knows something is up because he's meant to go into Faerie and he doesn't have the preconceptions of the adults and he has to see the signs

I ugh

Ugh it's so beautiful, all of it

#the boy and the heron #boy and the heron

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