#the slug was p small | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

undercoverpena · 4 months

Text

isn't it

din djarin x f!reader

summary: at first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at. but, at some point between your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

warnings: mentions of smut/alludes to smut. bad star wars writing (probs, i'm new forgive me). no use of y/n. brief mention/allusion of hand necklace (thanks @rhoorl for the term), m!oral, p in v. loosely season one/two, although likely au. wordcount: 1.7k an: a huge massive thank you to @saradika for firstly convincing me i could do this, and then letting me show her this so i could be assured i didn't butcher him. ily so much 🤍

It’s beautiful.

The sound of wind rustling through it, how it waves in spots up and down the hill—moving side to side like a cosmic wave.

You thought you’d known green until now; thought you had known silver too, assumed you understood the way reflections worked and how quick movements could be. But that was before him.

Before you’d known the feel of his solid body lay on top of yours.

Then, you discovered a lot of things. Like how easy it was to spread your thighs on either side of him. For your fingers to seek in the dark—how they effortlessly hunt and find the parts he’ll expose to the night, but never to the light.

You even found you don’t hate the sound of your name when he says it. Somehow makes it longer, more impactful—like it has meaning when it comes from his mouth.

All of which were things you’d never known before you convinced him to bring you.

A promise, a barter—an exchange. Your hand clutching his blaster slugs, tears clutching to your lashes, flowing from your eyes—aware of what you look like, aware of the desperation you reek of.

Just take me to a different planet. A suitable one. Please.

At first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at.

A bogus reason, a ploy—all stemmed from a rising infatuation with the man under beskar. But, at some point between your cheek against the wall of his ship and your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

But, this place is a gift—it’s a slice of heaven.

It had been a stop gap you’d almost pleaded at him not to make, a pause in the travel plan. Now you’re not sure you want to leave it.

Because here is a sea of greens, a variety, a never-ending display of every shade between the letters which make up the name. Some are more saturated, some are deeper; some are tinged with yellows and others are blotted with dark spots that aim to discolour, but just make them more unique.

There’s no bounty here—no collection to be made.

Just a sight for your eyes and a moment for him. And, you think you could sit here for hours and bask in it. Take it in. Allow the air of this planet to fill your lungs and carve a space inside of you that no one will ever be able to rip from you.

Stroking your fingers through the ground, you feel how your tunic presses to your spine—how it’s held there by the perspiration on your spine. The fabric desperate to blow, to whip around your ribs and the sleeves to float around your arms.

You don’t care that it’s warm—don’t mind that you can feel your skin prickling under it.

Because you’re lost in it, the limitlessness of this place. How surreal it is that each blade points north to the sky, all upright, anchored pleasingly to the ground it came from.

Things had been beautiful earlier too, you remind yourself.

When you had been enveloped by darkness, not a slither of light—not that there’d be the space for it in the small cot. His hands, forever a staple, an anchor, to your hips, determined to pin you there.

He’s a man who chases after those who run, and you suppose it’s ingrained in him. This belief that everyone, at some point, will leave—will go. You think it’s why he holds you tightly when you’re nothing but bare; you suppose it’s why after, when he unsheathes himself, he always traces his thumb over the places his fingers have been, reminding your skin he’s kind, just in case you need another reminder not to leave.

“We should go.”

You hum because you should. Yet, your mind rationalises that the baby is still asleep and there are more minutes to sit in the silence, to not dwell—you suppose it’s why your hand reaches up, and brushes over the gloved fingers instead.

Action is easier than words when it comes to him.

A game the two of you play, one of silence and strategy—wondering who’d be the first to crack and speak more words than necessary. You suspect it’ll be you in time, likely soon enough.

It��s why you clutch, cling. Weaving and working until you’re holding his fingers at an odd angle, a silent plea there, a wishful hope spoken without using syllables or your lips and mouth.

“One more minute.”

“Okay,” you respond.

Watching the strands move again, swaying, dancing.

A content sigh rolls from you, and briefly—in the back of your mind, you wonder if you’re really awake. Whether this is some form of peace your brain has concocted after the sight of him stained in crimson; his palms flat in the air, modulator expelling he’s fine, it isn’t his, he’s okay, it’s okay—

For a while, you’d believed him, until you felt the bruises—all pulsing and colouring in shades you can’t imagine. An image being drawn, shaded in—forever in black and white, just outlines and half-concocted feelings you have on what lives under his armour.

He sighs next to you, it rattling out through his helmet.

And you wait to hear it, the confirmation he normally hands you. Deep, even through his modulator that this “isn’t it” either.

It’s been a routine ever since the two of you began this dalliance. Ever since you’d smuggled yourself aboard his ship with the promise that you’d never ask him for anything else.

Neither realising how false that would be.

You beg for a lot. For more, for his lips, his fingers and his cock. You wait for the darkness, count down to it—thrum with excitement for it when he steps down the ladder and his helmet is aimed in your direction.

Somehow, no words are said, just mutual acknowledgement, acceptance. Or that's what you call it. It being seemingly better than admitting that you crave it—him. That you care, that the sight of him smeared in ruby still haunts you—lingers there, bleeds into good days and casts shadows while you wait in the hull. The child in your arms, soothing him—telling yourself you’re giving him comfort, when you suppose you gain more from the small being than you could ever provide.

“This isn’t it,” he eventually says from above.

His helmet turned, and you imagine the eyes that live under it. Question if they’re almond-shaped or hooded, whether they’re brown, green or blue. You also wonder if he looks at you with curiosity or want, whether it’s with a thousand thoughts running or none at all.

“No?”

“No. Not this one.”

That’s when you close your eyes. Let your ears do the seeing.

Allow your other senses to kick in, to swallow the lack of sight and make do. You end up lingering on the gloved hand in yours—the one which sometimes slides around your neck, lightly pinches either side as you moan at the feel of him. The same hand which slides down your spine to aid your motion, or lingers there when the terrain isn't trouble-free.

It's the remembering which makes you let go of it, of him.

Quickly managing to pretend your hand doesn’t feel cold when you do. Stuff down the emptiness that begins to drown you in the space you put between you, as you stand up. A part of you admitting defeat, silently saying goodbye to tall stands of green and the rolling hills adorned with shades.

“Thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

It rumbles from you. All heavy, laced in its own metal—ready to slam into him and take him down.

It doesn’t. You’re not sure any words ever could.

You suppose it’s why he says nothing, silently following, not too far so that you’re alone, but not close enough that you can feel the ghost of his touch. The distance measured, all purposeful. It remains so until you’re back aboard, until the door closes behind you and you’re once again surrounded by metal.

A part of you knows you shouldn’t grow used to him, shouldn’t be waiting for him to flood your spine with his chest. But you do—you really fucking do.

It’s why you don’t move, don’t take a step closer to check on the baby or even unclench your hand from around the strands of green you’d stolen. The ones you’d ripped up from the ground, roots tickling your wrist—the rest remaining tucked closely between curled fingers and a sweaty palm.

Yours. The smallest piece of a place you’ll likely never see.

“You should sleep.”

It’s an order. Direct—practically thrown at you. Followed by a tight grip on your waist, fingers finding the same place they always do. His place. The one not needing a mark, but he leaves them all the same, ownership, a possession.

Sometimes in the throes of it, you hear him hiss mine, jus’ mine—your head nodding in the dark, because you are, you know you are, the same as you suspect he knows he’s yours. It’s another thing which festers behind your teeth, keeping lips clamped shut, knowing it requires no confirmation, no words in exchange for the momentary slip-up he lets escape. But then, you offer nothing when you trace mine against him with your tongue, when you muffle the words around his shaft as your mouth widens to take more of him.

It’s just pleasure, an easy-to-choose solution to another body being in proximity—a lie you tell yourself.

One you bargain with when he sleeps and you’re coated in the dark, convincing yourself until sleep carries you away and you wake to find yourself either alone or the very opposite.

Because it’s easier, simpler. Far better than admitting your heart does a double take when he returns, that you yearn for him in the days that pass when he leaves you on the ship.

It’s less complicated than asking him if you’ll ever be worthy of seeing him.

And you’re not the type of person to question. So you don’t.

And so the routine continues.

an: you don't know how long this has been burning in my head.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction

421 notes · View notes

jermer10 · 4 months

Note

Hey, I've got a TF2 request, if you don't mind! Mercs with a s/o who accidentally falls asleep with their head on the mercs shoulder. (Very cliche, I know...) I'll let you pick who you want to write for, no pressure! PS, I think your writing is phenomenal, and I anticipate whatever you might post next!

TF2 falling asleep on their shoulder

gn reader | ahhh tysm!! this message means so much :) i decided to write for all the mercs, hope you enjoy!!!

temperatures are in celsius

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout: "Move ova'!" Scout pushed his way onto the already overcrowded couch, disregarding the protests of the other mercs. Tonight was movie night at the red base, and he would be damned if he couldn’t use this as a moment to try and get closer to you. "Hiya toots," he flirted, stretching his right arm out to rest around your shoulders. "Hi Jeremy." You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. Scout had been crushing on you for a while, every chaste touch and every flirty interaction had culminated in something that far outweighed any feelings he once had for Pauling. The movie had long since started, and mercs were continuing to file into the living room, squishing themselves onto the lounge or plotting themselves onto the floor. He couldn't remember the genre let alone the name of the film, all Scout could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat and the feeling of uncomfortable itchiness in his throat as you cuddled into his side. An hour in and your eyes began to grow heavy, breathing slowing in tandem. Jeremy glanced down at you, his palms moist and his face flushed as he wrapped his arm around your waist, attempting to focus on the movie and not how cute you looked like that. He was definitely asking you out in the morning.

Soldier: Everyone felt hot, sweaty, and exhausted as they slugged themselves back to the blu base. The mood hung heavy, no one seemed interested in Soldier’s usual antics - all except you, of course. You feigned a smile as he ranted about team ethic and the "American spirit", some mercs scowled at the man and others mumbled profanities and sauntered off. A light breeze came in through the afternoon air, Soldier sighed in the smell of Spring. “Hey, we should sit out here for a bit,” you squeezed Jane’s arm, pulling him towards one of the wooden benches placed just outside of the entrance to base. He felt his heart swell, not only did you want to hang out with him, but any touch from you made him absolutely crazy. “AFFIRMATIVE CUPCAKE,” Soldier responded, allowing you to lead the way. You audibly sighed as you sat down, just looking at you it was obvious you were exhausted. “Better luck next time, huh?” you joked, Soldier chuckled and stared out at the afternoon sky. You sat there together for a while, until he felt a sudden, yet small pressure on his shoulder. You had fallen asleep on him, and with anyone else he would have woken them up immediately, but you looked so peaceful and….pretty in a way? Soldier glued his eyes to the afternoon sky, he could think about these feelings later, better to let you rest after a long day.

Pyro: Being friends with Pyro was exhausting in of itself, and they knew this. But they couldn't help wanting to invite you along to their errands, you were their best friend and any time spent with you was time spent well. By the end of the day, you were both well past exhausted. "You're lucky I like you so much, otherwise I would never go on an errand run with you again." You teased, slinging an arm around their shoulders as you both trotted up the stairs to the base entrance. Pyro flushed under their mask, muffling out a "Yeah, yeah whatever, you love me." and rolling their eyes. You chuckled, opening the door to base and dragging yourselves to the living room. Pyro plopped onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and removing their mask. They knew the rest of the team wouldn't be back for a while, and the heat of the day had done a number to both of you. You took your seat next to them, sitting back and resting your feet on the coffee table in front of you. "Wanna watch tv?" They asked, grabbing the remote. "Yeah whatevs" You responded, yawning and stretching your arms over your head. An hour of mindless game shows, and you had passed out, head falling on their shoulder. Pyro chuckled, turning the tv down and dimming the lights. They pecked your forehead, and cuddled into you, making themself comfortable.

Demoman: Demo certainly didn’t take you as a drinker, let alone a party animal like himself! You go out for a couple drinks together after a team winning streak and manage to arrive back to base blasted out of your minds, clinging onto one another for dear life in your drunken stupor. “IIIIII LOOVE YOU DEMOOO!!!!” You proclaimed, enveloping your arms around the Scott’s neck. Grinning and face burning, he wrapped his arms around your waist, attempting to gently guide you back to your bedroom. His ongoing feelings for you had always been pushed down, and despite knowing that you were probably just super wasted and wouldn’t remember it in the morning, he didn’t want to waste possibly his only chance to spill at least some of his feelings to you. “Aye, i looove you too y/nnnn” Tavish slurred, poking your face in various places. You laughed and kissed the man on the cheek, “DAAATE ME TAAVAVVVV!!” You lamented, cupping his face in your hands. The sudden movement causing you both to topple over onto the floor of your room. Demo sat up and leant against the foot of your bed, you, laughing hysterically, joined him. Resting your head on his shoulder, your laughter dribbled off to giggles and you listened to his thundering heartbeat. "I really do like you, Tav.." You whispered, peering down at the floor, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you. You nuzzled into his shoulder, and drifted off, leaving a beet faced Demo staring down at you.

Heavy: Visiting Heavy's home during the middle of a Russian winter was a less than ideal scenario, but the team had wanted to see what a "real winter" was like, and now here you were trudging 2 foot deep in snow towards the wooden lodge. Heavy opened the door to the sight of 9 freezing mercs, and scoffed. "Inside." He commanded. You furrowed your brows and complied, shivering from the contrast of hot air. "Drink." A mug of hot coco was given to you by the gentle giant. "T-thanks.." You mumbled, walking over to the fireplace and sitting cross legged in front of it. Most of the mercs were directed to their rooms, some lounged around in the kitchen or dining area, having quiet conversations. Heavy sat next to you, mug in hand. This was already too close to comfort for you, and he could tell. Whilst he had been crushing on you for a while, he was oblivious to whether you returned those feelings - believing that you were scared of him. But right now your tired eyes and pink cheeks said otherwise, seeking some form of comfort from the man. "Come, I will hold you to warm you up." Mikhail gave you no room for choice, and you were still freezing. You complied and scooted closer to Heavy, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you. In an instant, you had fallen asleep, curled up on Heavy, the body heat shared between the two of you giving more warmth than the blazing heat permeating from the fireplace in front of you.

Engineer: Even after hours of battling, the match on 2fort had yet to finish. Scouts from both sides rushing for the briefcase, only to instantly die from sentry guns, Spies in disguise, or a Heavy hopped up on ubercharge. You were ready to drop, the respawn machine healing your wounds but doing nothing for your exhaustion. You knew that Dell was stationed in the intelligence room, sentry setup so anyone who trespassed would be delt with. The perfect place to catch a few z's before heading back out to the fight. "Yo Dell, can I maybe rest down here for a bit?" You implored, watching the man upgrade a dispenser. "Sure darlin'," He smiled earnestly, you gave him a look of relief. Curling up under the desk, you attempted to sleep, but the lack of cushioning made it an impossible task. Dell noticed, and gave the dispenser one last 'clonk' with his spanner before accompanying you under the table. "Here," He scootched up next to you, "You can rest on me if you'd like." You looked up at him, his cheeks felt hot. "Wow - yeah, thanks Dell." Blood rushed to your face as you situated your head on his shoulder. "Anytime, pumpkin." He muttered. Sleep was instantaneous, Engie held his breath until he was sure you were out cold, letting out a deep sigh and smiling down at the floor. How did he get so lucky?

Medic: Medic suffered long nights in the infirmary, and during those nights you would often visit him to keep him company. It was routine - you would saunter in around 9pm, sitting on the edge of the operating table, your feet barely touching the floor, chin resting in the palms of your hands as he tinkered away. He reveled in it - he had grown attached to this schedule, and by extension, you. Your mere presence made him giddy, seeing your sweet smile before he put you under anesthetics made his heart swell. The best nights were the ones where you would let him operate on you, he would be able to enact out his writings, throwing things at the wall and seeing what stuck. Then, you'd either walk out around 3am, or respawn from a botched surgery, and go to bed. Tonight, however, you had proven to be far too tired for a surgery, let alone a full night of softly rambling to Ludwig about whatever crossed your mind. You had pulled up the operating chair and sat next to him, eyes flickering between him and the notes he had been writing in his medical book, slowly drifting off. Your head fell on his shoulder, fast asleep. Medic peered down at you from over his glasses, breathing a lovestruck sigh. Maybe these were the best nights.

Sniper: The middle of the day in Sniper's van was akin to hell. The air smelt stale, windows wide open, no aircon, just the both of you sweaty, sticky, and half clothed. This would usually have embarrassed the two of you, but the 40 degree weather and sound of the other mercs outside attempting to cool off using a singular hose had you both choosing to stay indoors, not wanting to get involved in the argument currently taking place between Demo and Soldier. Heat fogged your brain, you felt so tired, your body sweat all of your energy out. "Fuck, why couldn't you get an AC installed?" You groaned, lazily shutting your eyes and fanning your face with your hand. Sniper shrugged, and despite not being able to see the motion, you scoffed. "Dunno," Mick responded nonchalantly. He trailed off, seemingly succumbing to the same heat induced exhaustion you were fighting with. You opened your eyes slightly, confirming your suspicions that Sniper had also closed his. Arms crossed, head pointing downwards, God, he looked so comfortable. Mick could tell what you were thinking, and he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to you, but he couldn't bring himself to move. You were close like that, almost reading one another's minds at times. So you made the first step, sliding over to him and laying your head on his shoulder. Sniper was uncomfortably hot, yet refusing to move an inch as you slept on him. Eventually, he couldn't help but nod off alongside you.

Spy: The drive back from your mission was excruciating. Sniper and Medic sat in the driver and passenger seats respectively, the only sound was the droning radio hosts on the van's radio. You had failed, and you knew Spy was seething from the loss. You, however, were so tired you couldn't even stand. Partially from the bullet lodged in your calf, partially from the athlete level running you had to do in order to get back to the van after the high elected government official had caught you in the act attempting to steal nuclear launch codes. Spy was the one to snatch the codes, but you had still been seen, and that in of itself was a failure. Incidentally, Spy had been the one to offer you aid once you were safely in the van. Your arm draped around his shoulders, wincing at the sharp pains running up your leg. As much as he tried to hate you, he just....couldn't. You were too sweet, too kind. So, he opted instead to blame Medic and Sniper for being unable to damage control the situation better. You were slipping in and out of consciousness, head slowly rocking towards Spy's shoulder, and then awkwardly leaning back towards the wall of the vehicle. "Rest your head on me, mon cher. Otherwise you are going to break your nose." He grunted. In an instant you had passed out on him, breathing in the strong scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne. He sighed a breath of relief, enjoying your gentle pressure on his side. Smitten was an understatement.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #ask #jermer10 #fluff #tf2 fluff

391 notes · View notes

vibingpyro · 5 months

Text

Not today

(Warning: The following short story involves smut! Do not read if you feel uncomfortable with that topic!)

I begin to stir from my sleep at the sound of my alarm clock buzzing on the nightstand, moving to turn it off with a sluggish hand. But, I don't have the chance to since I feel Hobies arm slug over mine and his fist connects with it first.

I'm instantly awake at the feeling of small parts of the alarm clock pelting my face. "Babe!" I hiss, and Hobie merely hums and snuggles into my shoulder as if he didn't just smash the fifth alarm clock in a row.

"That was the fifth alarm clock." I deadpan.

"Yea? Thought it was the seventh..." Hobie murmurs into my shoulder, his eyes remaining closed as he attempts to go back to sleep. "I'll getcha 'nother one later."

I shuffle away from him, and lay on my side to glare at him much to Hobies distain as he scoots closer, trying to steal my body warmth underneath the covers.

"I can feel your glare, baby. Jus' go back to sleep wit me." The end of his voice turns into a slight whine as he opens his beautiful brown eyes to give me a small pout.

I continue to glare at him, before briefly rolling my eyes at him. "You're not winning this." I huff, "You can't keep breaking my alarm clocks." My glare moves towards Hobies hand that's creeping up my thigh.

"Course, love. I could make it up to you?" Hobie's sleep thick voice suggests, his eyes flickering down to rest where his hand is stroking the skin of my upper thigh, drifting very close to the leg opening of my loose pajama shorts.

My glare falters just for a moment at the touch of his hand but my stubborn streaks proves hardy as I keep up the glare, shaking my head. "You can't possibly make up for breaking that many alarm clocks." I quietly scoff, Hobie's eyebrows quirk up at that.

"You're sure?" Hobie says softly, scooting closer to me and with familiar ease, positions my leg over his sweatpants clothed hip, laying right beside me now and my eyes flutter briefly, but I shake my head. "Nope." Even going extra by popping the P on the word.

Hobie merely snickers, and nods in false agreement. "Such a brat." Hobie breathes before one hand moves up to my chin, tilting my head up and leaning his head down to my throat, pressing soft kisses and nibbles to the sensitive flesh.

"This isn't fair." I groan softly, but make no protest to move my chin from his gentle grip nor shuffle away from him and Hobie hums in agreement against my throat. "Life ain't fair, love." As he continues his kisses his other hand moves into the hem of my pajamas pants, slipping effectively past thin barriers, his fingers delving in between already slick folds yet not entering.

"Mmfh-" I bite my lip to not give in entirely to Hobie, not letting him hear how his kisses or touches affect me. Hobie chuckles at my attempt to quiet myself, leaning back to look at me, hair still wild from sleep and cheeks flushed as his finger expertly teases around my sensitive nub, yet never directly touching it.

"You're still sure I can't make it up to you?" He asks, tilting his head as a small cocky smile finds itself on his lips, and my eyes are practically glued onto his smile, wanting absolutely nothing more than to kiss them bruised and breathless.

"I can't, I have to go to a lecture-"

Hobie scoffs at my words,before nudging my leg open further with his own and flipping the position to hover above me with one arm above my head, fingers still teasing sensitive flesh. "Not today, you're not." He says, before leaning down and kissing me deeply, his tongue already swiping my bottom lip for access and at this moment, I've never agreed with Hobie more.

Not today.

#hobie brown #astv hobie #hobie spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #hobart brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut

150 notes · View notes

cherubispunk · 3 months

Text

BARK! BITE! BLEED! (INTERLUDE) - FWB!Frankie Morales x AFAB!Reader

summary: the sting of biting one’s tongue is a lesser of two evils compared to the sting of rejection.

a note from Lucy: Not really a full part but still important to the storyline. Just a little bit of a deeper look into the reader and Frankie’s relationship, their characters and their ideas of each other.

playlist | moodboard

wc: 3046

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! no use of y/n, obsessive behaviour, frankie is obsessed and it is very unhealthy, toxic relationships, age gap (reader is 21, Frankie is 27) - though not mentioned in this part, graphic smut, oral (f receiving), face sitting, p in v sex, creampie, biting, softdom!frankie, scratching, references to suicide, references to racial discrimination and othering in American school systems.

“Is it your smile I enjoy…or the parts of me still stuck in your teeth?”

Some days Frankie liked to pretend you were a map. Easy to read. The landmarks recognisable on top of your skin. The world growing with you, shifting over bone. Breathing with life. The valley of your breasts. The bridge of your hips. The high street that was your spine. At the top of the high street, just over the fleshy part at the nape of your neck, was a library. It was locked. Always. Sometimes he would look through the window to see if anyone was still there. Peer in through grimy glass to expect someone thumbing through pages of a book, folding the corners to mark a quote, or a passage that held particular resonance. Alas, they were plastered with dated newspapers and rotting boards nailed to the over closed shutters. So he wandered back down, past the railway tracks of one rib, the empty children’s playground of another. The church on your sternum. The graveyard had no flowers by headstones. Half were smothered by a thick blanket of browning moss. Others were merely so caked in grime and crumbling that names were illegible. And passed over the bridge to the empty bandstand of your navel. Where music would play if someone gave the time of day. Behind him were footprints of marks he left with his teeth. A need to show himself he had been here. I have been here.

Behind the bandstand, deeper in, on a small mound of a hill, lay a wooden gate. And beyond the gate was an orchard fenced off from the rest. Here, Frankie would indulge his selfish tongue in the sweet fruit. Between two trunks of apple trees. Bite after ripened bite. The juice was full with a sweet flavour and sticky as it dribbled down his chin. Stained his fingers with their residue when he wiped his mouth. But there was a sharp aftertaste. And before he knew it the apple rotted in his hand. Dropped to the dew dappled grass and damp dirt.

It was always quiet in that town he roamed. No train on the tracks to go clickety-clack. No child on the swings giggling ‘higher dad!’. No busker at the bandstand humming the hymn of god loving us back. Just him. Eerie and silent with only his footsteps to accompany the low murmur of the tree conversing with the blackbird. And the gutters slugged with stagnant rain. He avoided pavement cracks. His mother would save her back. He rounded ladders. It cut himself seven years of slack. Nothing bad would come of it either way. That map was his mind's creation. So he kissed you hard enough to invert you. Fucked you hard enough to invert you. Maybe then he would see what was inside. What wallowed under your skin and festered hot in the gaps between? Each atom of each cell was a stone he wished to turn over. Because there must be something. You had your walls for a reason. Maybe it was written on you like a book? Carved into flesh, a signature he could run a finger over after reading. Behind the backs of your lids, under the tips of your nails. The crook of a knee or elbow. Or he’d trace the freckles on your skin like constellations. Using them like sailors in the archaic times to pass through uncharted waters. Scylla would come and feast on his weathered ship soon enough. Drag him to Davy Jones’s locker. No vessel of good intent crossed your choppy waters before.

You both agreed that you were not a mother. A wife. A bride. Or anything else he might want you to be other than human. You were happy with your independence. You didn't want to throw anything away just yet. Not at all. Not for a long, long while. You set ground rules. Had a straightforward argument that you bought up without the need for him to ask what this consisted off.

“We tell each other when we have had sex with someone else.” Seemed easy enough to Frankie. “And wear protection with them too.” Another valid request. “But most of all, no feelings. I don’t care who you sleep with, or what you do with them, and if you meet someone who you really hit it off with then we call it quits. But if you start to feel even a shred of something more, Frankie, that's it. We call it.”

That had poor Francisco swallowing back a lump in his throat before it could choke the reply back down him. His stomach felt hot, and burned all of a sudden as he tried to digest what you had said. A knot consisting of a livewire thrummed in his gut and made his skin flush. And it irked him to no end.

Frankie remembered his years as an outsider. In a school where the white outnumbered the other. A child of immigrants, lucky enough to have skin that passed. He heard stories of a boy who sat two rows down from him in his American history class. A boy with dark skin and textured hair. Who was teased about his colour. Who threw himself from a bridge because every time he looked down at his hands, darker than those of other students, he felt like he didn’t belong. Frankie felt it too. He could memorise the names of presidents. He could recite that the capital of Texas was Austin. That the United States of America were at war with the United Kingdom from the twelfth of April 1861 to the thirteenth of May1865. But no matter how much of a textbook he would splurge out from between his lips he was always from the outside looking in. It made him wonder in silence to his pillow if he would ever belong. If any fact, or word, or story would make him fit in. He’d have even the gaps between two. He’d squeeze into it, no matter how small, and make it his to belong in. He thought the army would be his ticket in. That if he served a country he would earn his place in it. A foolish thought. For even now, looking at you, he felt the chill from the other side of the window pane. The side in the cold.

While you lay draped in bed, strewn out like the sheets, smoking a cigarette in languid drags, he thought to himself how little he truly knew. Yes he knew about America. But not a sentence about you. Your past. Yes, he knew you did your laundry on Sundays. You came home from the bar you worked in at 1:00. But nothing of note. Nothing important. Part of him liked it. Mystery left room for the mind to entertain. Often fantasy was far more intriguing than reality and it made you seem all the more interesting. A comfort to know he wasn't wasting his time on no one; But rather devoting it to someone. However, the other part— the part of him that watched smoke serpentine from the glowing end of your cigarette— hated it. The way it felt in his gut. Anxiety. He felt it before. But never in this situation. In combat he knew he didn't have time for it. It didn't ululate or linger. It was there, then he swallowed, and it wasn't. Now? Well…he had these moments between. Moments where you would light a cigarette, inhale, exhale. And he would watch as your chest rose, then fell in a pattern enough to hypnotise him. Something so simple as your breathing engaged him. Frankie wondered what it would be like; to live under your skin and have the steady up and down lull him to sleep at night. A rocking back and forth. To and fro. Up and down. Belonging. Moments where he would trace the line of your spine with his eyes. Too scared to touch what wasn’t his until he would bite his tongue and press a single finger to the dip and back down its soft curve. Earlier in the evening, when the sky started to stain tangerine, you had been canting your hips into his, dragging up and down on his length and singing his praises in a breathy chorus. Lost on the feeling of the stretch. The welcome invasion. Then you did the same with his face. Clit brushing zealously over the hooked, aquiline bridge of his nose. Your slick devoured by his wanting mouth. Frankie was the river that ran and unravelled in valleys to feed into your ocean. He hated being in the dark. Only when he fucked you did he have a chance at turning on a light.

“Read it.” He mumbled, nodding to the book in your hands, and rolling over between your thighs to part them. A classic of some century long past. One he never cared much for. But he wanted something. Needed something to tell you to do. Or just something to say. Because the silence was torture for his lonely mind.

You were halfway through stubbing your cigarette into the chipped ceramic dish on your bedside table when he spoke. “What?” You asked, tilting your head in curiosity, eyes searching his. As if the answer lay in their storm-brewing shade of chestnut. Although in the dark, under nothing but halogen street lamp glow, they looked a lot more like black. A nothingness that promised the existence of something.

“I said,” Frankie mumbled again, his voice firm, low and with a gravely finish to it that was just like him. Rough around the edges. Hard to part with. “Read it.” and then, Out loud.”

The words were smudged into the skin of your thigh as he trailed his lips over the inside of the right. His hands skimmed down the outside and squeezed plush flesh. Plump and smooth. Small divots of silver stretch marks on your flesh like ink carved into flesh. Hand painted by some deity in the sky that paid no mind to him now. When he traced his mouth higher he stuck out his tongue. You were wet and hot with his breath and his spit, his come too, still sticky between your thighs at the apex of them. Your very centre. Where his prominent, aquiline nose traced through your folds before his tongue flicked your clit once. “Frankie…” you whined, toes curling. Because you were so sensitive. So worn and stretched and aching. He hushed you, taking liberty over the time where he called the shots. When he was able to bend you to his will and have your head spinning dizzy instead. He didn't feel so motion sick when that was the case.

“Shhh…” he soothed, and pressed the flat of his tongue to your aching sex where heat melted and spread out through your limbs, seeping into muscle and unwinding tension. “Just read…”

Silence. And he thought he may have taken it too far. Finally sent you over some indiscernible edge that appeared too quickly for him to press the brakes. But then your honeyed voice filled his ears;

“Orpheus wished and prayed, in vain, to cross the Styx again, but the ferryman fended him off. Still, for seven days, he sat there by the shore, neglecting himself and not taking nourishment. Sorrow, troubled thought, and tears were his food.” You started, eyes blurring under the hazy weight of pleasure. His tongue delved a little deeper, circled your clit, flicking over the hood of it once, twice, thrice in quick laps. The tip of it pressed to a point and rolled it in careful, full circles. Your nerves thrummed like livewires, humming the same way telephone lines would in a hot summer rainstorm. Where heat lightning flashed ahead.

“Pretty pussy all used and fuckin’ soaked still.” He murmured into you slick, now in a generous shine across his chin. You whined, keening your hips up so his nose pressed to your mound and the smattering of curls there. He lay belly flat to the mattress, hips rutting slowly in tandem with the torturous, bold, and thick laps of your cunt. “C’mon, baby. Léeme a mí. Keep going.”

You read on, lips quivering, words dying by the dragging slice of a moan, a whimper, or simpering whine. Toes curling as his tongue lapped at you. “Three times the sun had ended the year, in watery Pisces, and Orpheus had abstained from the love of women, either because things ended badly for him, or because he had sworn to do so. Yet, many felt a desire to be joined with the poet, and many grieved at rejection.”

His mouth made a sinful soaking sound, wet and generous and full of your taste. “Que cosa mas linda.” He crooned into your cunt, lips smearing into your drenched sex while you stumbled over the words on your page. “Coño— tan mojado, bebita.” You whimpered again, a pathetic sound, fingers daring to curl into the thick head of brown hair at the crown of his head and press him deeper— because, god, you had never wanted something so carnally in your life. “Son deliciosas.” The glint of wanting in his eyes was like the blade of a knife catching the light. A flash of warning before it sliced tender flesh and let blood bleed red. You watched in quivering liquid smooth heat while he tasted, and favoured, and lusted over the seam between your thighs. It was such a pretty sight. Such a wonderful feeling of freedom that sat aching and twisting in your belly. The feeling of impending relief— release. A little death.

“I cant–” You gasped, legs jolting before the malleable, soft and round swell of your thighs clamped over his ears. Your core bearing down on the plane of his nose at your clit and his tongue that dipped in and out of your slick, drooling hole. Large hands, rough to touch, unforgiving and telling, pressed them back to the mattress again. He had you spread completely, open and melting into a pathetic resolve of messy sounds. He dragged his nose through your folds once more, before his lips enclosed around your bud and drew it between them in a sharp suck that had you seeing stars. Ovid’s Metamorphosis, Orpheus, they were put back between the pages of a closed book. Shimmering away into mere dust of thought. A coiling pressure replaced them. One of pleasure, and a slight pain of overstimulation. Hot like a wire in a ready-to-blow fuse. “Fuck– Frankie…” You yelped, and he replied with nothing more than a guttural groan into your centre. A lewd slurp of the slit of your cunt as if it was his last meal. Like it was divine to him. Tasted sweeter than a slice of heaven. Here he could blur into you and forget he was separate. Ignore that you ended somewhere and he started some place after. No gap between could exist with his face pressed into your pussy. Gushing all over his lips and tongue and cheeks just for him. Drenching his face in the thick shine of your slick.

And then there was the slow release of the ache; The coiling heat blooming in your lower belly. Growing with each circle of his tongue over your swollen clit. Your legs twitched from a moment, breathing heavily and staggered as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. Your vision fizzled behind your eyelids for a moment, making opening your eyes to look down at him retreating would probably have you passing out.

“Bien hecho, chica.” he mumbled as he smeared his lips over your goose pimpled skin, hair stood on end from the tone of his crooning voice, the rough scrape of his moustache over flesh. “Good girl.”

He climbed back up the bed to lie next to you, and the two of you lay still for a while. Your mind felt dormant under the heavy guise of something dragging, your eyelids like paperweights, stinging with the need to just sleep.

“Been meaning to ask you something…” Frankie spoke up, smoothing a hand over your stomach atop the bedsheets you had slipped back under.

“Mhm?’ You asked in a voice that was hazed by the want to sleep, eyes still closed, but awake.

“I’ve got this…thing.” He started, and he watched art you opened one eye to peer at him sceptically, lips pursed ever so slightly. “And all my mates have dates because they're either married, or engaged, or have been planning to get round to proposing…” You scoffed before he had the chance to pick up the trail off of his own sentence. He couldn’t quite meet the scrutinising eyes of yours. The ones that narrowed a fraction as they watched him smooth over the top of your sheets, over a thread that had snagged there when being washed in the machine.

“What thing are you bateing me into going to, Morales?”

“Just a military thing.” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but the way his thick fingers found and pulled at the same stray thread of your duvet cover said otherwise. “A formal.” There was a hint of fear settling like silt at the bottom of a river in his eyes. A flicker. If that. Maybe you could call it a glimmer from afar. Whatever you might call it, it was better left unsaid. You sighed to save him the embarrassment, rolling onto your side and propping your head up with your arm.

“And there isn’t a single soul on this planet that you know of who can accompany you other than me, hm?”

“Please?” He practically begged, rolling on top of you to speak to the skin of your hot neck, skin still slightly salty from the sweat that had previously lain there. “Just as a friend. Nothing more, I promise you.” It would would be nice to have someone there he wished to add, but but his tongue to hold it back. He hated the idea of seeming soppy. Either way, the sting of biting one’s tongue is a lesser of two evils compared to the sting of rejection.

“I suppose I better find a dress then.”

89 notes · View notes

unikron-kitten-kat · 1 year

Note

could we get some slenderman x male reader. i want to know about your take on him and the whole incubation process and how he can turn people into a slender aswell!! thank you ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

OH my Zalgo hai! of course you can!! XD

Sorry this took so long! I had to redo it all bcs I missread your ask xd, but here it is!!

Slenderman x male reader part two

Tws: Cannibalism mentioned; blood; tentacles; transformation[Slenderman turns reader into a slender]; Slenderman; knife and wounds

Dis is long :>

His Dearest

Søme øf Me, Øne of Us

It wasn't fair really. Your boss was so damn pretty. It didn't help he basically glowed in the moonlight.

While.. Sane and "normal" people would scream and run, or in the case of your.. Co-workers, be wary of your boss, you were drawn to him.

Something was pulling you in. His claws had sunk into the threads of your heart and yanked on them, throwing you against him, leaving you at his mercy.

He knew this too. He knew what he did to you. He took advantage of that, in small ways though. He had plans for you, and he didn't need them ruined.

The others saw.

The others noticed.

They noticed his... Blatant favouritism.

Toby was ticked off by this. Masky and Hoodie were so very pissed.

Nobody had ever outshone them in Slender's eyes. Ever. They were the ones he worked on the longest! Or so they thought.

They heard him talking about you to Zalgo. About how he had spent much longer on you than those three. When he apparently didn't even need to.

He had been with you for ages. Taking on the guise of an imaginary friend while you were young, then guiding you away from your home, your parents and 'friends', as Slender sneared the word, when things started drowning you.

It was hardly junior high when he finally got you to follow him away.

Still. No matter how hard and how long he supposedly worked on you, they hated it. They hated not being in the spotlight. Especially when it came to Slender.

You had to work so damn hard to be in Slender's favor, and being in his favor, you had so. Many. Advantages. So many!

And here you were, a complete and total outsider to them, obliviously stealing the spotlight.

The others started talking about you when you and Slender weren't around.

They called you his pet.

His toy. A baby-faced plaything.

Such harsh nicknames.

And they used to be mean. Until you started telling Slender about their behavior towards you. They stopped. Some of the weaker bullies turned tail when they saw you. They didn't think Slender would get that angry at them.

It was all fun and games after all!

The smarter ones did not engage in the bullying banter though. They knew what would happen. All they did was toss you the side eye when you came into the room.

Anywho.

To those in favor of Slenderman were gifted a huge bonus. A portion of his power to have, and grow more powerful with. This grew the power they were given, making them, and subsequently Slender, stronger.

You were just about to get this power. Lucky bastard.

He had guided you away from the Manor. Said he didn't want any interruptions.

He stood facing away from you. His back to you.

After a short moment, he turned back around, now holding something.

A squirming something.

A writhing something.

"Wh... What is that Boss?"

He hummed.

"This, [Name],, is what I use to.. Transfer a portion of my power to those select few I deem worthy of such a gift.. And... The only way they are able to absorb this is through 'eating' it... The only way they could absorb some of me.."

He knelt in front of you. Bringing the.. Slug of slime up to your face. It wasn't wiggling quite as aggressively as it was brought up to you. He couldn't help but inwardly chuckle at the dark blush now dusting your cheeks.

"Open."

You did.

It lunged down your throat. It squirmed its way down. You choked, gasped, wheezed as it wormed its way down. You had doubled over.

It dissolved into you. At least that's what it felt like. An overwhelming wave of.. Warm? And strength and just.. Raw power.

Your vision went black for a moment.

When you regained yourself, you were shaking. Slender was keeping you from falling to the ground. You deserved that much and more he thought.

You were gasping for the breath you lost when the slimy slug had invaded it.

Your head hurts. Your vision pulsed black. You hands are now really hurting. Your body jolted with a sudden wave of pain.

Then it was over.

Your hands were different. Your forearms were white, a webby skin fading over your own, fading to black at your finger tips where claws now ebbed a sickly green.

"Hmmm..."

Your attention was brought to Slender. He was circling you, observing what his essence changed in you. Your face hurt. You rubbed it. You groaned, your body was so sore now.

You felt.. Things on your back. You turned to look.

Huh.

Guess you have spidery tentacles now.

"Not... As drastic as some... Previous hosts. But intriguing none the less."

You most certainly felt different. Completely. Sure you still had human skin, and you still had some of yourself, but certain parts of you had been altered.

"These... Altercations can be expanded apon... A cadaver.. For something more..."

He trailed off. Lost in thought almost. His voice was so alluring..

"No, not yet. I will give you time to rest and adjust to these changes before doing anything more drastic."

"Do... Does this always? Change others?" You had to ask.

"Not always. Sometimes their strengths weren't enough to build off of, or they just weren't compatible."

"Wh.. What happened if they weren't compatible?"

He sighed. It was a heavy sigh. As if he had regrets.

"They'd perish. Masky and Hoodie almost weren't compatible enough. They almost expired. Ah, well, nothing I can change about the compatibility..."

You looked back at your hands. The webby white skin was uneasy to look at.

"You however...", You looked back up to your Boss, "were very much compatible. I have never yet seen my raw magic modify a Proxie into a Slender cadaver yet..."

"Cadaver?"

"Yes. With your transformation you now have the ability to become one of us, [Name], a Slender yourself..."

He grabbed your arm and examined it closer.

"And by the looks of your skin and claws.... More particularly your skin, you have the potential to be an Arachnae of sorts. That breed of Slender is... Rather powerful. Definetly more magically potent than I could ever hope to be.."

He examined your hands to, the sickly green glow seeming to course through your veins.

"Why... Why is my arm glowing like that??"

He huffed a chuckle at the worry in your tone.

"Must just be the colour of your new magic, [Name]."

He held your hands like that for a moment. His touch was warm.. You couldn't keep looking at him. His attention was always something you craved.

"Well, with that done", he stood.. So tall, "let's head back to the Manor and get warmed back up, it is cold out here, no?"

.......

When you two did get back, he led you directly to his office. A few of the others saw you. Some did double takes. Others glared with envy.

He looked at something, a screen maybe.

"Of course..."

You saw.. A warbly image across a black sludgy smudge on the wall. Like a security camera, almost.

It was images of Toby and a couple other Proxies you saw, those couple trying to hold Toby back as he kicked through Slender's door. He seemed pissed from the looks of the 'camera', throwing his axes down on the floor, and kicking at it, then storming out the door, fuming.

"He was trying to.... Interrupt me..."

Slender's tone was dangerous.

"I will be... Having a talk with him after dinner tonight... In the meantime, I have some work to get done. [Name]? Could you stay in here with me? I'd appreciate the company.."

"Uh.. Sure."

Toby... Did not look well, let's just say, and he avoided you like the plague. He'd get a lot more twitchy if he was 'forced' into prolonged contact with you. A lot more... Scared.

Now it has been about a year since you recieved your new power and magic. As you trained with it, and unlocked new abilities in accordance to your gift, you felt it growing inside you. Probably what the others meant when they felt they were nothing but inccubators. But you?

You felt... Alive, to be honest. A lot more alive than you could have ever felt. Your magic, it ebbed and flowed inside you..

It made you feel so good!

Hunting down your assigned victims was so much fun now! With your new agility, flexibility, magic!?

Oh how badly, oh how disgutingly, horridly bad you now want to see the horror, the absolute terror on their faves when you were done with them!

How lively you feel! How fucking good you feel! How euphoric...

Though, it appeared to Slender, it was physically impossible for you to be driven made by this new influx of power.

And, to be honest, he felt you were ready for your.. Next stage. Soon.

With Slender, you noticed small things he did before were.. More. His touch would linger longer on your shoulder, he'd find ways, excuses, to touch you. To let his hands roam. You swear he purposefully traveled his hands down and up to grope your crotch and your pecs. Squeezed even.

He also seemed to be much more enthusiastic to be more one-on-one with you, often making the excuse of giving you a solo mission, just to be in the same room with you, alone.

He.. Smelled different too. Probably was your heightened senses, but he smelled different from what you remember before your gift was given.

He smelled heavily of the forest after a calming rain, he smelled of coffee, black coffee at that, he had a hint of copper behind him. There was one other smell you couldn't place, one of.. A raw somthing. Almost as if you could.. Smell his magic?

And sometimes he would smell very, very sweet. Sometimes it was overwhelming how strongly of sweet he smelled. He seemed a lot more.. Husky, dominating towards you only, and he was fidgety when he smelled like this too. His tones and what he'd do when he smelled like this made you weak in the knees.. And it made you hard. So hard.

He even sat you in his lap, or you'd wake up in his bed being spooned by him when you slumbered in yours first, or he'd have you behind or next to him in random scenarios.

You were falling helplessly for him even deeper than you had in the beginning.

You had just recently finished killing your most recent.. Target. Blood was decorating you. He watched you go feral over them. He watched you eat them.... It set. Him. Off. In a good way.

You stumbled out of the backdoor to the house, wiping off some of the blood on your face with your sleeve.

You gasped, jumping as you were grabbed by both shoulders.

It was just Slender.

One of his hands came up to slide over you cheek, holding it.

"So... Pretty..."

His voice was barely a whisper. You blushed deeply at the comment, your cheeks seeming to glow.

He held you like this for a while it seemed.

"Well.", he stood, "I think it is time now. Time for you to become one of us.. A Slender.."

You inhaled deeply.

"Really?"

"Yes, [Name]."

He had brought you back to the plave where he originally gifted you a portion of his power to grow stronger with.

"Hmph... You have.. Never disappointed me.. Never let me down.. Never... Disobeyed me... Never gave me trouble.."

He turned to you.

"The others... However..."

He trailed off, leading to a pause. He seemed fixed on something.

He closed the gap between you two.

"You have... Such big eyes..."

Your arms tightened at your sides.

"... Hm... Well, let's get on with it shall we?"

He had a hand folded behind its back, which was now revealed to hold a very intricately patterned knife. Ot looked cermonial almost, and it had a whispy magic floating around in its onyx coloured blade.

"My people craft these knives to help halflings such as yourself progress into the final stages of their transformation, lest their new blood rip their body apart from the inside..."

He crouched down, taking on of your arms in one of his four hands, using another hand to scrunch up your sleeve and his.

"The... Activation, I suppose, of the final stage to your transformation requires the blood of a Pureling, such as myself, spilling into a wound of the halfling..."

And with that, he cut a line into your and his wrists. He held his over yours, his dark inky blood trickling onto your wound, staining your grayish blend at the wrist darker.

It tooke a hot minute, but your body seemed to finally register what happened, because your wrist started burning. It hurt so bad. It had tears immediately blurring your vision, you doubling over as the excruciating sensation swam up your arm and through your body.

He held you to him though. His arms were wrapped around you as you painfully transformed. And you couldn't currently hear him over how painful your body was, the pain blackening your eyesight and closing of your hearing, but he was whispering hushed comforts into your ear.

It was thirty minutes of you sobbing into him, your body felt on fire inside and out as you swore your bones broke and snapped back into a different order, growing new ones, and new arms ripping out of your sides as your rib cage expanded to accomodate new internal and external additions.

When you finally came to, he was holding you, his lower hands stroking up and down your sides, and one was holding your head to his chest as he held you close to comfort you through your pain. You were still gasping painful, raspy, shakey breaths. Everything currently hurt. Everything, even your new additions.

You were apparently clutching his suit. You didn't want to let go.

You felt his blank mouth rest on your head. Like a kiss. You responded by curling up into him, and whimpering at how much it hurt to move.

"Oh, come here [Name], its alright.. Your done now.."

His voice was lulling, soothing, like he altered it with his magic. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his form around you, offering his warmth to help sooth your sore and achy body.

You two stayed like this for a while. He knew how much it hurt. One of his cousins is a halfling, product of a one-sided affair between their human mother and Slender father. He had watched his cousin writhe and scream. Nobody comforted him. Except him and his brothers. He thinks it was because nobody else knew how to help.

After your tears ran dry, he asked if you could stand with him. It took a bit, your legs wobbling excessively, but you managed.

Wow. You were almost as tall as him now. Your legs ached like they just went through a growth spurt, and they very much did.

You had to lean on him for support though.

You gasped, feeling a very strange but good sensation. You turned your head to look. His smooth, cold, inky, buggy tentacles were intertwining with your webby, whispy ones.

He guided you off him, holding your shoulders as he took in your new form.

You had markings. Black ones tracing along your webby skin, swirly and curvy, some wrapping around new curves to your body. Some faded to a gold colour at their tips, and all had your green magic flowing through them.

Your tentacles had curvy patterns with the same gold and magic wrapping around them.

And your eyes... Your eight eyes were bewitching to him, your sclera now a deep emerald, with gold swirling over it, merging into a shiny pupil that glittered in the moonlight.

You heard him inhale deeply.

"Wow...."

"S..sir?"

"Please, [Name], use my real name for once... Aiden."

"Eh...?"

"Fuck your gorgeous...."

You sharply inhaled at the realization you were now probably naked. You panicked a bit. What if your... Huh. Well.. Apparently Slender dicks don't just dangle. It looks like you have some sort of... Pouch thingy? You saw what looked like flaps keeping your genitals hidden from prying eyes anyway. What do they look like now? Do you have more than one dick? You didn't feel more than one dick... You did feel.. Very small tentacles in there though...

He chuckled at your panic though, holding you tighter.

Your eyes were bigger.

"Don't worry [Name].... Not like this is the first time I have seen you without clothes..."

You, gasped, and blushed, the colour completely covering your face as soon as yoi processed what he said, your hands tightening their grip on his arms. You turned your head.

He chuckled at you again.

"I think... This was a... Successful transformation.. What about you?"

He let go of you, looking you up and down again, realizing your legs came to an almost point, them ending in a hoof-like structure that wasn't its own thing, not like a horse or cow, but like a continuation of your leg. Though, he new what that type of leg was capable of, as his cousin Trenderman was a Satyr Slender, one that had traits of 'goats' and 'deer' from their world, and those animals had very thin legs that were full of sheer power. He saw 'goats' launch predators up to 30 feet away with a single kick.

"Hm.."

His hands came back up to rest at your hips and sides.

"I think we need to change up your wardrobe now, don't we?"

You stiffened in embarrassment, feeling his gaze rake up and down your new body.

You felt... Better. More powerful, most certainly, your senses were heightened again, and it hurt to have all of your eyes opened at once because each pair had a different mode of vision, one pair having infrared, etc.

"Your perfect...."

He whispered.

You shuddered at the complement.

Slender breathly chuckled.

"Oh, the others are going to be.... Very jealous of you.. Aren't they? Especially when they hear how I'll be treating you in a few months when you get used to this new body....."

The implications, and his low and husky tone had your entire body lighting up, with fires of embarrassment flaring through you.

Slender stepped closer to you, leaning down just enough to be able to bury his face into your neck. You inhaled sharply. Something weird pulsed where he had his mouth. It made you want to tilt your head and push you neck into his mouth.

You saw his back shake from a shudder passing through his body.

You heard tearing before his long, wide, wet, cold tongue licked over the pulsing spot. You gasped at the action, your body tensing, you pushing yourself into him, and burying your face into him.

He made a satisfied noise.

One of his hands came up to hold the side of your head, and he removed his face from your neck.

"You felt that? That feeling in your neck, [Name]?"

You nodded, making a humming sound.

"I see..."

Another hand held your chin.

His face was very close to yours.

His fingers rubbed over your hidden mandibles.

His other hands wrapped around your hips and waist, pulling your body as flush to his as he could get you.

The pale green that was now your blood made your cheeks glow with blush again, your eyes wider at the closeness.

He tilted his head.

And he kissed you.

The surprise of the kiss, the touch of your flat slates against each other, prompted your mouth to open, and he took that chance to slide his tongues into your mouth.

His tentacles wrapped around yours again, his hands moving to wrap around you as he hugged you to him.

You melted into him.

He tastes like wine. And black licorice. Maybe a hint of twizzler in there.

When he broke the kiss, a thick trail of saliva hung between your tongues, you taking a few deep breaths before he kissed you again.

His tongues wrapped around yours, yours now longer, you had about three maybe, but his were bigger, and more skilled, obviously.

His tongues went to the back of your throat, and explored your whole mouth, leaving no inch of it unexplored. even wrapped around the mandibles hidden in your mouth, which you found to be sensitive, the touch of his tongues wrapping around them made you moan into the kiss.

He pulled away for the last time, you holding onto him for support again, gasping deeply for breath.

"Tasty...."

"Gorgeous....."

He grabbed your chin, to make you look at him with your droopy eyes and open mouth desperately catching your breath.

"Mine..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If ya'll want a part two, let me know! :D

#creepypasta #slenderman #slenderverse #the operator #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x male reader #creepypasta x male!reader #creepypasta x malereader #slenderman x male!reader #slenderman x malereader #slenderman x male reader #slenderman x y/n #slenderman x reader #his dearest

275 notes · View notes

theskzkiddo · 1 year

Note

Hi! I hope that it is okay that I'm back 😊

You said you did headcannons right?

If you do could you maybe do one for skz with a shy and anxious little?

It is completely up to you how it is done! Like ot8 or just a few members or whatever you feel /pos

I loved the boards!!!!!! Pink and yellow are my favorites!

-littleracha

skz + shy/anxious little headcanons <3

an: i’m sorry this took a bit! but i hope you like it! :D

1. they always have at least one of your comfort items with them when you guys go outside!

2. jisung is the best at talking you down and getting you out of your head

3. having said that! chan stumbles a bit on his words, but his are the ones that comfort you the most!

4. changbin can and will pick you up and just rock you back and forth while one of the members sing you a lullaby

5. minho has a secret book of your favorite meals/snacks/desserts! whenever he knows that you’ve had a particularly anxious day, he’ll make you something (even if he’s busy because seeing all the tension flow out of your body and the small smile on your face, makes it’s 1000000x worth it)

6. seungmin and i.n will gang up on you and tease you! you’re just so cute when you’re shy! can ya blame em? hehe

7. they have so many fidget/sensory toys! chewerly? check! pop it? check! stress ball? check! sensory slug? check!

8. if you wake up feeling not so good about the day and you’re just already lost in your head thinking about all the what ifs, they have a special routine for that! seungmin will come in to pick out your outfit, felix will get your bath/shower ready, minho and jisung will make your favorite foods, hyunjin will get a little art station set up in the living room, chan is getting your playmat and setting it up in the living room along with your favorite toys/stuffies, i.n will be getting your blanket/pillows and making you a little nap area so you don’t have to be away from them when your have to nap! and changbin will be carrying you the entire day! :3

9. sometimes slipping into your headspace is hard because! brain dumb >:(, but if your mind just won’t s t o p, jisung is to the rescue! and any other member! because while jisung is the best to help get you out of your head, any member is the best at physical comfort! just depends on who you wanna be held by!

10. felix reads you bedtime stories!!! you know the ‘twas a night before christmas read out loud they did? (IT MAKES ME FEEL S O SMALL) yeah, him and chan are the best at story reading! but! the other members tend to be silly and act everything out! hehehe

11. hyunjin loves painting with you but! since you’re just so shy he’s made a little barrier thing so you guys can’t see each others art until after you’re finished! (it helps calms your nerves a lot!)

12. i.n and chan will play peekaboo with you for hours! H O U R S, you’re just so sweet and your reactions are just t h e cutest (they love your smile)

13. whenever you guys go out to eat or anywhere really they will talk for you because they understand how daunting it can be to socialize with strangers :(((

14. they stim with you in public so you’re not the only one who’s doing it! (it helps bring the attention off of solely you and makes you feel more comfortable!)

#sfw regression #sfw little blog #age regression #sfw little post #sfw agere #fandom agere #🖍️kiddo is regressed🖍️#stray kids agere #kidcore #��️kiddos headcanons🖍️#🖍️kiddo responds🖍️#kpop little space #kpop agere #skz agere #agere skz #agere little #agere headcanons #agere blog

180 notes · View notes

bigoltrashpile · 22 days

Text

Won't Leave You Alone (Papyrus x Reader)

Hey everybody!! This is a commission from the amazing @g0nefischin for donating to the PCRF! If you'd like to get your own commission, go ahead and see this post for more details. I hope you guys enjoy, I'm really happy with this one! :3

Everything felt like shit. You groaned as you tried to pry your eyes open. To your disgust, you had several of those eye crusty things sticking your eyelashes together. Quickly, you rubbed them away, ignoring the pounding in your head and sat up.

Okay. You still felt terrible, but you weren’t covered in puke, so that was a win. Your stomach also wasn’t nearly as queasy. Maybe you could finally keep some food down. With that thought making your stomach growl, you forced yourself to your feet and stumbled to the kitchen.

You didn’t even notice the sounds of movement until you were faced with the person in your home. A small scream of surprise escaped you. “Papyrus??” How did you not notice the tall skeleton in your home? How long had he been there??

Papyrus jumped, and a pancake went soaring out of the pan he was holding. It stuck itself firmly to the ceiling. “STARS, YOU STARTLED ME, I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE AWAKE!”

Damn his voice was loud. You winced. “Um, yeah…what are you doing?”

“Making Breakfast.” Thank the stars, he lowered his voice. “How Do…How Do You Feel?” As he spoke, his eyes firmly looked everywhere except at you.

“Better, I guess. But what are you doing here?”

“TAKING CARE OF MY VERY COOL VERY GOOD FRIEND, OF COURSE! MY VERY FRIENDLY FRIEND!!! THE FRIENDLIEST FRIEND I’VE EVER BEFRIENDED!!!!”

“Papyrus, you’re acting weirder than usual,” you muttered, wincing again. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Sorry, Sorry. Um…Well, Do You….Remember What You Said Yesterday?”

“No, did I say something stupid?”

“No, Nothing Stupid, But…” Papyrus fiddled with the spatula. Still not looking at you, he started to try and scrape the pancake off the ceiling. “I’m Afraid You’ll Regret It.”

That last sentence was the quietest you had ever heard Papyrus. You could barely make out his words. “Regret it? What could I say that I’d…regret…”

Your eyes widened. Oh fuck. You remembered. The memories came flooding back to you, and your head pounded as you were flung back to yesterday morning.

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

You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to find the most comfortable position. You knew you needed to get some sleep, to let your body recover, but nothing was working. Everything was too hot with the covers on, but too cold with them off, and you kept sweating and shivering, making your pillowcase absolutely nasty.

A loud, enthusiastic knock on the door made you almost yell out in pain. Every sound made your head feel like it was splitting in two. You tried your best to ignore the knocking, but to no avail. The knock rang out again.

You groaned and literally rolled out of bed. You wrapped the blankets around you and shuffled to the front door, looking a lot like a huge slug. Fuck, the walk down the hall was such a monumental task, everything kept spinning and the door seemed like it was getting farther away. After what felt like an eternity, you finally made it to the door and swung it open.

“THERE YOU ARE! SO GOOD TO SEE YOU, ARE YOU READY TO-Oh. You Look Terrible!”

“Gee thanks,” you grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

“We Were Going To Get Lunch Together, Remember?” Papyrus asked. As he spoke, he took in your appearance. “Although It Doesn’t Seem Like You Are Well Enough To Go.”

“Uh huh. Sorry, can we reschedule?” you asked. As you spoke, the world started spinning again, and you leaned against the doorframe. You didn’t notice the look of worry that crossed your friend’s face.

“Of Course We Can!!! Now Come, Let’s Get You To Bed!” Before you knew what was happening, Papyrus had swept you off your feet. He was holding you bridal style, like you didn’t even weigh anything!

You squeaked. “P-Papyrus, put me down!”

“And Let You Fall? Nonsense! You Look Like You Can Barely Stand, Let Alone Walk!!”

He had a point. You wouldn’t have made it two feet if you tried to walk on your own. Oh well, you were too sick to fight back. Instead, you just curled up closer to his broad chest. He was so warm…

Papyrus’s steps seemed to falter for just a moment, but he kept going. Carefully, he set you down in your bed. You had never seen him so gentle, he was treating you like you were made of glass! When he pulled away, you noticed he had a slight blue blush on his face. “I-I’ll Go Get You Some Juice!!” he squeaked.

“I have some medicine in the bathroom, can you bring it?” you mumbled after him.

Papyrus gave a “nyeh” of approval.

Fuck, he was adorable. You smiled a bit to yourself. Thinking back to when he carried you, you couldn’t help but wish he did that more often. He was so strong…and so handsome…and so cool…

Yeah you had a crush on him, but how could you not? He was really the best, and here he was helping you out while you were sick! Sans was right, Papyrus was really the coolest!

Before you knew it, Papyrus was back, triumphantly carrying a glass of orange juice and your medicine. “Here You Are! It Said To Take Three Of These, So Drink Up!”

You quickly swallowed the pills, and took a gulp of juice. Shit, you didn’t realize how dry your throat was until you had a drink. You finished the entire glass in just a few breathless seconds.

“Golly, I Didn’t Realize You Were So Thirsty! Do You Want Some More?” Papyrus asked.

“No, thank you, but I should get to sleep,” you said, smiling gratefully at the skeleton. “These pills always mess me up a bit.”

“Well Then, I’ll Get You Some More When You Wake Up!” As he spoke, he climbed into bed next to you, and you let out a surprised yell.

“W-what are you doing??”

“Getting In Bed? What’s It Look Like??”

“B-but shouldn’t you be going?”

“Do You…Do You Not Want Me Here?” Papyrus frowned.

“I do, I do!” You couldn’t stand the look of hurt on his face. “I just…I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me!”

“But I Want To!!” For a skeleton, he was very good at giving you puppy dog eyes. “I Want To Take Care Of My Very Cool, Very Special Friend! Pleeeeeeeeease?”

You laughed and tried to push his face away. Partly to get him out of your face, but mostly to stop him from seeing the blush creeping across your cheeks. “Okay, okay, fine. But only if you promise you won’t get sick from me.”

Papyrus cheered a bit and snuggled closer to you again, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Your Petty Human Germs Can’t Affect Me! Our Biology Is Completely Different!”

“Good point.”

You wiggled a bit closer to him. Somehow, he was very comfortable. He was warm enough that you just needed a light blanket, and he was somehow very soft. Must be magic or something.

No need to think about it too hard. You just sighed happily and let the medicine carry you to sleep.

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

You woke up a bit later, to the pain of a very dry throat. You groaned and rolled over. “Papyyyyyyyyy.” Everything was blurry and had a soft glow around it.

Papyrus was on his phone, but quickly put it down to look at you. “Yes, Cupcake?”

“Can you get me some juice?” you said. Your voice was slurred, and you giggled at the sound.

“Of Course!!” He jumped up and ran out of the room and returned with a tall glass of juice.

You cheered sleepily and grabbed the glass with two hands. “You’re the beeeest Papy!”

“Nyeh, Thank You!”

“Like, really the best.”

“Th-”

“Wanna kiss your face.”

“NYEH????”

You gulped down the rest of your drink, ignoring all the juice that completely missed your mouth and ended up on your shirt. “Mmyeah,” you giggled. “Wish I could kiss your silly face and hug ya all the time and make you feel as good as you make me feel,” you rambled. You tried to put the cup on the bedside table but missed. It landed on the ground, spilling a bit of liquid onto the used tissues scattered around.

“Hey. Hey. Don’t tell anybody,” you whispered loudly. You grabbed the collar of Papyrus’s shirt and pulled him close. You held up your other hand to cover your mouth, like you were children gossiping on the playground. “I’ve got a biiiiiiiiiiiig crush on you.”

“YOU DO????”

“Yeah, it’s a secret.” You flopped back into bed, eyes already drifting closed again. “Don’t tell anybody.”

“I WON’T????”

You laughed softly as you fell back asleep, leaving a baffled and flustered Papyrus standing next to your bed.

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

You buried your face in your hands and sat down at the kitchen table. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I did that,” you mumbled to yourself.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT EITHER! THAT MEDICINE MUST HAVE REALLY MESSED YOU UP!” Papyrus laughed good-naturedly. “MAKING YOU THINK YOU HAD A CRUSH ON ME, THAT’S RIDICULOUS!”

“What? Why is that ridiculous??”

Papyrus still had his gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling. “BECAUSE WHY WOULD YOU? IT’S OKAY, IT WAS CLEARLY THE MEDICINE TALKING, I DON’T HOLD IT AGAINST YOU.”

“But it’s true?”

“TRULY THE MEDICINE TALKING, I KNOW-”

“No, I really do have a crush on you!”

Everything seemed to freeze. For a few moments, everything was still. At least, until the pancake finally unstuck itself and fell to the ground with a comical “thwap.”

“Y-...You Do?”

“Of course I do!” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “You’re so sweet, and you take care of me, and you’re handsome-like, really handsome-and you make me laugh, and-”

“HOLY SHIT!” Papyrus fell into a chair next to you, like his legs couldn’t hold him up anymore. “THIS IS…WOW.”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m sorry for being so-” You were cut off by Papyrus pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

Your eyes widened as Papyrus pulled away. “SHIT, FUCK, I’M SO SORRY, I JUST-I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THAT, PLEASE DON’T HATE ME!!!” Papyrus squeaked. He wrung his hands together. “THAT WAS VERY OUT OF LINE, I JUST-”

You took the chance to cut him off this time. You gently kissed his teeth, and Papyrus stiffened, before gently cupping the back of your head. This kiss lasted much longer, and when you pulled away, you were both gasping and flushed.

“...WOWIE!”

“Yeah, wowie,” you grinned.

“So…Um…I Guess I Don’t Have To Worry About That Anymore!” Papyrus giggled. “I’ve Been Stressing About Confessing To You For Weeks!”

“Yeah, same here! Ha, we could have been dating for a long time if we both stopped being such dummies,” you laughed. You felt so light, like a huge weight had been taken off your chest.

“Yeah! Oh Well, No Time Like The Present!!” He leaned towards you again, but you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“M-maybe I should brush my teeth first. Oh, and get some food. I’m starving!”

“OH, YES! YOU BLEW ME AWAY, BAD BREATH AND ALL!” Papyrus joked. “I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH CLEAN TEETH! YOU CLEARLY HAVE A LOT TO TEACH ME IN THE ART OF DATING~”

“You’ll pick up on it fast, I’m sure!”

“I DON’T KNOW, I MIGHT NEED A FEW EXTRA LESSONS~” Papyrus winked, saying the word “wink” as he did.

You laughed. Sick you may be an idiot, but at least they got you a handsome boyfriend. You silently shot a thank you to the bottle of pills as you brushed your teeth. With Papyrus by your side, everything would be okay. You beamed as you skipped back to the kitchen, eager to begin the next “lesson.”

#my garbage #writing #commissions #papyrus #papyrus x reader #sick fic #fluff #thanks again g0nefischin!!#you're awesome and your art is so tasty i put it in my mouth

34 notes · View notes

nudibranchpropaganda · 11 months

Note

followed you because when you reblogged my bad communication post i loved your url !! do u have any nudibranch propaganda to share?

Hell yea i do!! This got a little long :)

These funky little dudes have the coolest morphology, something theyre well known for. They can be pretty tiny (0.4 cm) or surprisingly large (60 cm) and generally live in the tropics, though there are certainly a wide variety that live in cooler ocean water as well. Some of the more well known species are very eye catching, like the Jorunna Parva (Bunny slug) or Glaucus Atlanticus

Some of them look like funky leaves and some of them look like slugs we see on the surface too! (Did you know licking banana slugs that you find on land makes your tongue go numb? 10/10 not recommended but i was a dumb kid)

They also come in a goth or clown variant for those that are looking to fit a certain aesthetic :)

Theres two kinds of nudibranchs. Dorids, which breathe from a central plume of gills above their ass, and Aeolids, which breathe from a collection of spiky protrusions called cerata. There are a couple more distinguishing features relating to their digestive tracts and mantles (or lack thereof), but this is the easiest way to tell them apart in my opinion!

Theyre also carnivorous! These guys will eat a wide variety of stuff, including sponges, coral, barnacles, anemones, and even other nudibranchs and their eggs.

There are a couple species that have some pretty cool diets, like the Glaucus Atlantica, which preys on the portugese man of war and other siphonophores. It can eat the man of war whole if theyre small enough, but will also just eat the tentacles if theyre too big. Glaucus will then push the stinging nematocysts (the bits that hurt) from its insides to its outsides and use them as self defence!

There are also sea slugs, like the Costasiella Kuroshimae (technically not a nudibranch yada yada yada) that eat algae they then use to photosynthesize!

These funky little creatures are also hermaphroditic! Like a lot of animals, they use mating dances to attract a partner. Thats not whats cool about their reproduction though. When the time comes to lay their eggs, they do so in the coolest ribbon-like structures.

Mostly though, i just love how different all these little guys are. Personally, my fav nudi is from the ocean near where i live!

Anyways, that was rlly long. thanks if u ended up reading and defs look into these little weirdos on ur own!! (references? idk her :P but actually i dont remember where i learned most of this, though some supplemental info and pics w out credits from wikipedia!)

#syb rambles #nudibranch #sea slugs #marine biology #these r my specialest most favorite animals #also they cant see for shit #as someone who also sucks at seeing things #i love them so so so much #chatter

108 notes · View notes

shmothman · 1 year

Text

In regards to the next fic I’m working on… Here are some notes on my interpretation of the plantussy. Featuring a lot of biology, flower talk, and… uh. slugs. 🤞🤞🤞

Very Nsfw below the cut.

(Note: I am not an artist)

For the base structure, I obviously took most of my inspiration from flowers. The Plants (in stampede, at least) have very floral elements, and my personal headcanon is that they have some analogous structures—products of convergent evolution to incredibly different circumstances. (Though don’t get me started on my headcanons vis a vis the genetic engineering that went into Vash and Knives being so human-looking, at least on the outside.) If the (capital P) Plants are (lowercase p) plant-like, they could certainly have analogous reproductive structures. Five petal-like labia that lie mostly flat against the skin ‘bloom’ when aroused due to increased blood flow—filling with fluid and expanding due to turgor pressure. (Main inspiration for the petals: cherry blossom flowers, though something… fleshier than I’m able to draw 🤣) The reproductive structures are contained within, shielded by the petals unless sufficiently aroused. Within the outer layer of petals is an inner layer, which also lies flat until aroused, at which point they twist together to form something analogous to a penis. The way the petals twist together leaves distinct grooves spiraling along its length, which conduct fluid that comes from the interior of the dick—though the internal structure below it that would be analogous to a vagina also produces fluid, which is slightly thicker and stickier than a human’s would be. (There is a LOT of fluid.) (Note: the petals that make up the dick can be separated even if aroused, but the interior is incredibly sensitive, and Vash is prone to overstimulation even if he isn’t touched there.) (Main inspiration: morning glory bud, also the Aelit dildo by Strange Bedfellas.)

There are two smaller interior petals that don’t make up the dick, and instead act as labia around the vagina-analogue. (Main inspiration: orchid.) Surrounding the dick, there are several independently-mobile tendril-like structures ending in small bulbs; these serve as hormonal transfer sites—detail below. The center of the ‘flower’ is a dark pink, which lightens to flesh tone at the edges of the petals, though the interior petals are fully dark pink. Maybe with a bit of blue bioluminescence. (They made the man glow in Stampede; what do they expect me to do? NOT make his dick glow too??)

Alright! Now we’re going to talk about invertebrate reproduction! (You come to the invertebrate biologist and don’t expect to get a little bit of a lecture?)

Firstly: Rotifers. Most Rotifers belong to Class Monogononta, and Monogonant Rotifers have a unique reproductive pattern.

Typically, they reproduce asexually, via parthenogenesis, making, by definition, only diploid females. However, when conditions are right (the chemical cues seem to come from crowding, when a population of monogonants gets too high, but it occurs relatively rarely) the usually amicitic (‘not mixing,’ referring to the production of eggs without the mixing in of other genetic material) females will lay eggs that become micitic females. These micitic females produce eggs via meiosis, not mitosis as in parthenogenesis. These eggs are, by definition, haploid. In the absence of fertilization, these eggs develop into males, which are able to fertilize other haploid eggs, creating a new diploid generation which continues to reproduce via parthenogenesis once again. This haplodiploid sex determination system also occurs in many insects, but no other organisms seem to exhibit this pattern of many amicitic generations followed by one micitic generation. This is my headcanon for the way Plants reproduce. It doesn’t have anything to do with how his junk looks but I wanted to talk about it.

Secondly: Terrestrial Gastropods. If you know anything about slug sex, you know it gets pretty fuckin wild. As a self-proclaimed monster dong connoisseur, I would be remiss to not take ideas from them; namely, in this case, love darts. Now, in actual gastropods, love darts are sharp, calcareous or chitinous spines produced by the snail that are coated in mucus that contains an allomone, a pheromone-like compound, that increases the likelihood of successful fertilization. They’re essentially shot into the body of the snail’s mate. Taking the basic idea, though, I’ve mixed that with flower reproductive anatomy to arrive at… uh, I mean. I really need to find a better term but. Love tendrils? Love… stamens? I’ll workshop it. REGARDLESS. They’re essentially independently-moving tendrils with a glandular bud at the end, the purpose of which are to secrete hormones that aid in copulation—essentially oxytocin and dopamine, which then can be absorbed through the skin, giving his partner a… boost.

And that’s my inspiration for Vash’s pussy!! 🤞🤞🤞

#for the love of god if you know me irl do not look at me #I’m unhinged I feel so unhinged about him #tumblr pls don’t nerf me for plantussy on main #i… do not want to put this in the tags but I do need it to be filterable I’m so sorry #vash the stampede #Trigun #I said I’d wax poetic about it and wax poetic I SHALL

72 notes · View notes

pleistocene-pride · 2 months

Text

Piranga rubra, better known as the Summer Tanager, is a species of song bird in the cardinal family Cardinalidae which is native to North, Central, and South America. They live in a variety of habitats depending on there range including montane, temperate, an tropical forests as well as dry and riverine woodlands. They feed upon insects (particularly bees and wasps), arachnids, slugs, snails, fruits, and the occasional small vertebrate such as lizards. They are typically solitary animals but are known to form pairs in the mating season and flocks with up to 30 individuals, including mixed species flocks, during migration. There are 2 subspecies: P. r. cooperi which breeds in southwest USA and north Mexico and winters in south Mexico, and P. r. rubra which breeds in the eastern USA and winters in Central and North South America. Reaching around 6.7 to 8 inches (17 to 20cms) in length, 0.9–1.2 oz (25.5 to 34grams) in weight, with an 11 to 12in (28 to 31cms) wingspan, the summer tanager is a medium sized songbird. Males are bright rose or orange-red throughout the year whilst females are olive colored above with a rich yellow or orange underside. They breed during the summer forming pairs which monogamously bond for the season. They construct a bowl shaped nest out of leaves, vines, stems, and grasses amongst a horizontal branch of a tree some 8 to 34ft (2.5 to 10.5m) above the ground. Here the female lays 3-4 pale blueish green eggs with reddish brown spots. They are incubated by there mother for 12 to 13 days straight, whilst there father feeds and protects said mother. After hatching the chicks are cared for by both parents. The young fledge after 8 to 10 days, but remain with there parents for an addition 2 to 4 weeks. Under ideal conditions a summer tanager may reach sexual maturity at a year of age and may live up to 11 years.

#pleistocene pride #pleistocene #pliestocene pride #pliestocene #ice age #cenozoic #stone age #dinosaur #bird #summer tanager #tanager

7 notes · View notes

talia-the-gemini · 1 year

Text

Meeting

A/N I just want to clarify I haven't watched the peaky blinders before, and I've only watched shadow and bone season 1 and the first couple episodes. And this is my first time publishing my writing.

2 A/N This doesn't follow the current events of either show I've only used some events from shadow and bone.

Fandom - The peaky blinders x shadow and bone crossover Relationships - The peaky blinders (separate) x Brekker!reader (R) Crows x Reader (P) Kaz Brekker x sister! Reader Keys ~ (R) = romantic (P) = platonic

Trigger warnings - Mentions of Alcohol, violence, cigarettes, guns, and swearing.

Masterlist

This is not proofread.

Y/n pov

We sit in Kaz's office after a successful mission, except for a minor tussle. Sitting on the couch Jesper leans on my shoulder and Inej sits on my other side as I close her wound.

"We have another job." Kaz states while holding a slightly browning letter in his leather gloves.

"From who?" Jesper asks whilst playing with one of his guns

"A letter was sent from Birmingham, From a gang by the name of the peaky blinders."

Ineji pipes in "Why would they request a job be done by us?"

"It says that the leader Tommy Shelby requests a meeting"

"They're offering 800,000 kurge." "Spitting that 4 ways will leave us with 200,000 each."

Jesper's eyes sparkly at the thought of 800,000 kurge.

"I will send a letter back and we take leave in three days' time, So I suggest that You start packing." with that said Kaz lets us go with a nod of his head.

Leaving the boat, you slugged yourself and Kaz's bag on your shoulders whilst taking in the dull and dreary streets that had similarly to the barrel. With the aged cobblestone roads to the old & chipping brownish-orange bricks holding up houses and shops.

"Jeez, this place reeks worse than Ketterdam" I admit, scrunch my nose at the stale smell of Brimingham. Jesper hums in agreement

"Well, we need to find a bar called the Garrison" Kaz informs us holding the letter in his none occupied hand.

Walking next to Kaz I relax to the sound of his cane clacking on the gravely-cobblestone pavement we fall into to a comfortable silence with bustling city around us, we come to a sudden stop when Kaz's cane snapped Infront of us. Glancing up I see quite a large bar with a large white sign that says [The Garrison] , sort of like the crow club.

Walking in, there are many round tables scattered around the place with a bar (typical pub style). You walk up to the bar and asked " Is there a Tommy Shelby here?" the bartender walks to a small sliding window made of wood and knocked, It slips open slightly enough for the bartender to talk through.

"who's asking?" questions a gruff voice from the backroom.

"Kaz and Y/n Brekker."

A few moments of murmuring later the door to a backroom opens and we get lead in by the bartender.

The room was quite spacious for a backroom, the center stood a large table with a L shaped couch behind it, sitting on the couch are 2 men they look like brothers with a slight age gap smoking cigars, standing Infront of what might be a alcohol cabinet is another man that looks around late 20 to early 30s.

Kaz steps in front of us "So who is Tommy Shelby?"

"That would be me" the man standing replys

Inej and Kaz share a look and Kaz asks "what's the purpose of this meeting?" without showing any emotion.

"Have a seat" he says while nodding his head at the rest of us.

I sit next to Kaz, Jesper sits next to me and Inej sits on the end of the couch,motioning towards the other couch "my brothers Arthur and John Shelby".

GIF by desetincelles

"Kaz Brekker" Kaz says

"Y/n Brekker"

"Jesper"

"Inej.."

GIF by capinejghafa

"So" Tommy says while taking a seat next to his brothers "I heard you're familiar with the man named Pekka Rollins"

"Yes he's very, well known in Ketterdam" Kaz replies annoyed at the mention of pekka

"Well he's gone and partnered with our rival billy kimber"

"And how is this our problem?" Jesper interjects

"It is your problem because he should be in Ketterdam, not in Birmingham." John says agitated.

"Well what is it that you want us to do?" I say

"Kimber is hosting a party to show case his jewel that are going on the market, I want you and your crew to take them"

"And this is for 800,000 kurge correct?"

"correct"

"we need 4 days" Kaz states getting ready to stand

"deal" Tommy replies extending his hand for both of you to shake

Reluctantly Kaz and you take it

In two days time Inej managed to get the blue prints of the mansion and copy it to make a map and find an entry and exit point.

{6:00 am}

Walking into the garrison with the Peaky blinders following closely behind us we make it to the infamous room and Kaz forcefully places the map onto the table.

"I received a letter from Wylan and Nina this morning, about the crow club" Kaz says while looking at the map, then glancing at us

"What about the crow club?" Inej questions

"You know how our last job we need you but you were under contract with Heleen."

Inej hums in a unsure way

"The letter was a warning from Wylan for returning home to Ketterdam"

"Why?" Inej asks

"Because I used the crow club as collateral for your contract with Heleen.."

"What!?" You and Inej say in a panicked shock

"Kaz please tell me we still have the crow club.." you plead

Kas stay silent as the tension thickens

"The warning is because we have a warrant for our arrest..."

After Kaz's last comment there was just silence letting all the information process.

"What the fuck." Jesper mumbles

"How the fuck do we have a warrant for our arrest if we haven't been in Ketterdam?!?" You exclaim in destress

"Two words Pekka Rollins,he killed Heleen and since she's dead he has rights to her documents..." Kaz sighs

"Meaning that Pekka Rollins.. has the crow club." you say in a hushed tone, you feel like your going to faint almost forgetting the other 3 men in the room

"Awww man I had really good hats in there too" Jesper sulks

"Well the faster we finish this job the faster we can plan how to get the crow club back."

We nod in agreement

"Well here's the plan"

Notes - Hey guys I hope you all liked the first chapter and the next chapters are probably going to take a while to be published/written.

-Talia ♡

#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #fanfiction #shadow and bone #six of crows #six of crows x reader #x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone crossover #peaky blinders crossover #writing #fanfic #shadow and bone x peaky blinders crossover

50 notes · View notes