I am now curious to know how werewolf!folio would be on a speed date 🤭
dealers choice for if it’s with reader (gn) or he’s paired up 💕
For this event // No longer accepting!
This took far longer than it should have, I am so sorry. I had something partially written in my notebook, and I just . . . forgot to transfer it and finish writing it. I'm posting this rather than fussing with it a bunch just because it's been such a wait, but I hope this is okay!
(Also, if you can't tell, I'm freestyling how speed dates work. I am completely out of my element here. Yikes.)
Only content warnings are for mentions of food (no eating on-screen).
Woof boy Folio just has a thing for scents, okay?
Folio’s still unbelievably nervous. He can’t believe he let Noah talk him into this (he can, actually — Noah pestered him about it when he’d attempted to shoot Noah down). It’s not that Folio doesn’t like dating, and it’s not for a lack of interest in romance, but speed dating specifically feels so weird.
He’s only three “dates” in (they don’t feel authentic or like they qualify as actual dates, really) when you sit down.
Same as the first two times, Folio tries to casually catch your scent. Werewolves aren’t unheard of, but he still doesn’t want to out himself to a total stranger — or strangers, plural. Besides, even when people know, most think it’s weird for someone to sniff them. Folio gets where they’re coming from, he does, but he also can’t help it.
The problem is that, when Folio inhales your unique scent, his brain short-circuits. It’s like when he smells someone baking cookies, or when a raw steak is being slapped on a grill, except it has a completely different degree of effect on him.
Embarrassingly, Folio’s mouth still waters. He wants to curl up in a hole and die as he swallows quickly, licks his lips, stammers out a weak little greeting. His shyness has yet to wear off, and now he’s also fighting the fully animal instinct to pounce you, to rub his face into your neck, to inhale your scent until he can’t comprehend anything else.
Folio fists his jeans in his hands, tries to look as normal as he possibly can. You just give a smile of your own, and it seems to come easier to you than it does him; you introduce yourself, and Folio manages to get his own name out without it sounding too odd and garbled in his own ears.
How do other wolves do this? You lean in, lower your voice politely as you ask if Folio’s doing okay, and the wave of stimuli — the fragrance you’re wearing, your laundry detergent, something indisputably you beneath it all — threatens to scatter the few thoughts he’s managed to hold on to.
“Y-Yeah, I’m—” Folio coughs into his fists, uses it as an excuse to lean back a bit.
Something in your expression shifts, and your eyes widen as you sit back. “Oh my god, are you— Do I smell bad? I tried to make sure— Is it just too much fragrance? I didn’t think about a werewolf being here, I just—”
Folio shakes his head quickly, reaches out a hand to brush your fingers with his own. It’s far too familiar of a thing to do, but you seem to settle regardless. “No, it’s not bad. It’s just . . .” God, does he admit this out loud? “It’s really nice,” he finishes, meekly.
You blink. “Oh.” Another blink. “Oh.” You laugh and then lean in again. “That’s a good sign, though? That I smell so good to you?” Folio can’t tell if you’re teasing, but he knows that he loves the light in your eyes. It’s distracting, really, and then his eyes drift to your lips, curled into something pleased and amused, and, god, does he have to sit here the whole time?
Wait. You probably want an answer. “Yeah, it’s—” Folio needs to stop stuttering. He probably looks ridiculous. “It’s a good thing. It means my wolf likes you.” He glances at the timer, rubs the back of his neck. “We don’t really have a lot of time. I spent most of this staring but, uh, would you want to maybe trade numbers?” he attempts, and maybe he pulls out the puppy dog eyes Noah accuses him of exploiting sometimes.
Folio only uses them because they work, though. You beam and nod, pull out your phone and then pause. “Or,” you start, “we could go out for a proper date. You don’t have to stay the whole time.” Before he can answer, you hit the timer, stop the countdown.
The wolf inside Folio is currently so excited his body threatens to physically wiggle back and forth. He takes a breath, stands up, smiles a little easier now that he knows he’s not going to lose you in a blur of faces today. “I mean, there’s sushi down the street. Do you like sushi?”
You nod and jump up as well, and Folio looks for someone to apologize to — but, instead, you take his hand and pull him toward the door. “Table’s free!” you call out, seemingly to no one in particular, and then he’s being hauled outside and into the sunshine.
He realizes now that the warmth beaming down on his face is the same kind of soft, pleasant heat your scent sparks in his gut.
You were already a rather avid knitter when you met Noah. He had attempted it twice — and promptly thrown in the towel within ten minutes of starting the first time, half an hour into the second effort. He insisted it was because of how long his fingers were, how large his hands were in general; the needles felt uneven, awkwardly sized, impossible to use.
So he would settle for watching you instead. Noah clearly found it fascinating, or maybe it was the faces you made as you worked. He occasionally laughed or snickered, sometimes even stopped you to give you a fond kiss. He would often sit, quiet and captivated, as you worked a complicated cable pattern or did stranded colorwork, mumbling in awe and slight disbelief at the precision that came so effortlessly to you by this point.
When the weather started to get a bit crisp, when the air finally started to bite at noses and fingertips and cheeks, you brought Noah into a local yarn store. You refused to give much context but insisted on help finding the best yarn possible for a project. After you explained how to read the labels and identify if a specific yarn would work for the project, the two of you wandered the shop, one or the other finding a skein and offering it for the other to feel.
Really, though, you were more concerned with how Noah liked the texture than anything. He was oddly picky about the way fabric felt, and a lot of the yarn he brushed his fingers over earned a crinkled nose. Finally, though, you found something he liked, a little coarse but still soft enough that it passed Noah’s inspection. He obediently let you load his arms up with various colors, carried it to the cash register, shot you a curious look as you paid.
Noah would occasionally pester you over the next few weeks about what you were working on. When it started to shape itself into something resembling the final piece, he switched to asking who the sweater was for. You just smiled, shrugged, ignored the question entirely otherwise.
It should have been obvious, you thought, that it was for Noah, but he still blinked at you when he pulled it out of the gift bag like he’d had no idea he would be receiving it. The sweater had a neckline that sat a little lower, wouldn’t crowd his neck; the sleeves had been customized, lengthened a bit to fit Noah properly; and the design was a simple skull that he’d still been amazed by you creating in the moment.
“You should help me put it on,” Noah told you, passing the bag and sweater over without warning. Off came his shirt, and you tried to focus on the task at hand rather than the skin bared; he had to squat for you to reach, but you managed to pull the sweater on him, and he straightened and grinned. “It feels nice.” He took a few selfies in it, sent the photos to his bandmates, and then pulled you in for a warm hug.
You nestled in close, finding you liked the feeling of the finished piece too. “You like it?” you asked, a little shyly, and glanced up at Noah.
Noah laughed softly. “Yeah, I do. And I still remember what you paid for this yarn, so you’re about to be spoiled. Brace yourself.”
Hiii bb 💕 what has been your favourite headcanon to give the bo boys? It could be something you've already written about, or not for a little lore drop 🤭
Headcanons!! My favorite things!! Since I love yapping so much, I'll give SFW *and* NSFW headcanons below the cut.
Noah (SFW): I headcanon this man as at least a little neurodivergent. I don't have a long list of reasons, but just projecting some of my neurodivergent traits/tendencies on him is really soothing.
Noah (NSFW): He's a switch through and through, and which way he leans (if he leans in any particular "direction" at all) depends on his partner. I feel like he's evenly balanced in tendencies with Nicholas; dom leaning with Folio; and basically fully sub with Jolly.
Nicholas (SFW): Don't ask me why, but he feels like the Bomens guy most inclined toward polyamory. I think it's because he's so sweet; he just seems like he has a lot of love to give and the capacity to have multiple relationships that are all full and satisfying (even if not necessarily objectively "equal," but I have a lot of thoughts about polyamory that I'm not going to get into here).
Nicholas (NSFW): He is usually pretty calm and normal-presenting, but I think he'd go pretty feral for marking his partner(s), whether that be with hickeys, bites, welts from spankings, etc., or more intense things. And don't get me started on his service kink.
Folio (SFW): He is the biggest sap for his partner. Blatantly smitten. Is the epitome of a gentleman -- holds doors, pays for everything (if you'll let him), remembers anniversaries. I have told Dodger that he is the most boyfriend-coded man in the world, and I stand by that. Lots of casual touches, kisses, "babe" and "honey," etc.
Folio (NSFW): Folio has two modes in bed. He is either sweet and giggly, or he is absolutely bonkers feral. He loves biting inner thighs and leaving bruises; if he sees you limping or waddling or wincing the next day, he gives you that sunshine smile of his.
Jolly (SFW): With the way this man sits, I feel like he is simultaneously loudly and casually bisexual. Being bi is just so chill and Not A Big Deal to him, but he also will not hesitate to flirt with literally anyone. He'll flirt respectfully, but it'll be pretty obvious.
Jolly (NSFW): This man is an expert at making AMAB people cum untouched and AFAB people squirt. He gets really smug about it, too.
I've posted a snippet of this already here. That post also contains more context!
Vaguely NSFW snippet below the cut.
A hum and a click of Jolly’s tongue; Jolly tugged on his hair and Folio obediently sat up, moving how Jolly wanted him without resistance until he was kneeling on the bed. (He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just grabbed two fistfuls of his own pajama shirt.) “I’m not sure I should give you a treat now,” Jolly mused.
It probably wasn’t helpful to pout, but Folio felt his expression twist into one anyways. Maybe the way he widened his eyes pleadingly would blunt the immature edges. “Please,” he managed, “I’ll be good. I just couldn’t wait.” He felt like he had been waiting for hours, body singing with the need for touch, for friction, for movement.
“I’d rather destroy this friendship than pretend I don’t want you anymore.” with Noah and Folio
Prompt from this post // Still accepting!
Hello, yes! This was meant to be cute, and I think I accomplished that, save some internal Noah musings that aren't the cutest. I've never projected on Noah a day in my life, I have no idea what you're talking about.
Haphazardly proofread but written with love. I adore these two (thanks, @dodgersnotebook). No content warnings save perhaps references to mental health issues.
Noah knew that Folio wasn’t straight. Sure, he’d made moon eyes and giggled at a couple women during their time in the band, but he’d also bat his lashes at men — and there was the nonbinary merch employee that he’d scampered after an entire tour, all lost puppy desperate for affection. (Noah was fairly certain Folio had never gotten up the nerve to ask them on a date.)
So the concern wasn’t that Folio wouldn’t be interested because Noah was a guy. The worry was that it had always been obvious when Folio liked someone, and Noah had picked up zero signs that Folio was at all interested in him. None. Folio might have laughed really hard at some of his less clever jokes, but Noah noticed he did that with all of the band members. And Matt, and if Matt counted for something, did it really hold any weight at all?
The problem was that Noah was tired of pining. He was a grown man, and he was more than capable of standing on stage night after night in front of so many people that looking out into the crowd now almost made his eyes cross. He should have been able to tell a guy he’d known for years that he had a crush on him. The length of time he’d harbored the crush wasn’t important.
It would have been smart to prepare a speech beforehand. Noah tried to, he did, but everything he’d rehearsed in his head evaporated the second he decided to broach the subject. He was hanging out with Folio on the tour bus, Nicholas and Jolly having left to do something (he hadn’t paid that much attention, honestly), and it just felt like the moment.
Which meant Noah opened his mouth and words poured out, and every bit of beautiful, masterful word crafting he could harness for his music was painfully, blatantly absent from all of it.
“So, uh, I was thinking, right, and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I wanted to at least say it, you know, because it’s getting kind of embarrassing, not that I’m not always a little embarrased, but—“
Folio glanced at Noah then, eyes wide and vaguely concerned, and every cell in Noah’s brain shut down. God, he was so fucking pretty. “What’s up?” he asked when awkward, stiff silence fell.
Great. Perfect. If his brain would just boot back up, if his operating system could stop lagging, if he could just talk like a normal fucking person. It wasn’t that difficult a task. Why was Noah making this so difficult? What was the worst thing that happened?
A breath. “I’d rather destroy this friendship than pretend I don’t want you anymore.” It came out all at once, Noah’s lisp thicker than it had been in years, a couple of the words bumping together for the haste with which they escaped.
It was obvious that Folio was processing, so Noah made a show of fidgeting with the camera he’d brought on tour. He had plenty of footage no one else would ever get to see, fragments of time between shows, on the road, after sets. They were all for him, little kernels of joy to remind him that he wasn’t alone and he was surrounded by love, even when his thoughts got loud and dark.
Folio’s hand on his knee made Noah jolt. When Noah glanced up, Folio’s face was flushed and his eyes were even wider than before, but he also had a shy, boyish smile on his lips. “Is this you telling me that you have a crush on me, Noah?” he asked, and there was something about the way the question was phrased that made Noah frown.
“Did you know?” Noah asked, a touch incredulous — and maybe a little frustrated at the thought that they could have avoided all of this.
The question, bordering on an accusation, earned a sheepish shrug from Folio. “I mean, I thought you might have a crush on me? But you’ve never really dated in all the time I’ve known you, and the only people you’ve dated have been women. So I thought maybe I was misreading somehow. Like you were sending signals that didn’t mean anything.”
Which made enough sense that Noah deflated instantly. “Oh.” Folio was right, Noah realized. All of the crushes he’d had over the years, even the embarrassing one on Oli Sykes that had almost ended in disaster, had never reached anyone’s ears but Nicholas’s, and that was because Nick was subjected to every single thought that popped into Noah’s head. He’d always been too lost in his own inner ramblings, trapped in his head, tangled with worries that spiraled down into nothingness; he’d never had the time or energy for dating.
But things had shifted in the past year or two. Noah had done the work enough that things were finally starting to click, and it felt like aspects of life that he’d been unable to reach before were suddenly within his grasp. One of those had been romance (and sex, honestly, but he wasn’t going to admit to Folio in this moment that it’d been a hot minute since he’d gotten laid), and he realized that Folio hadn’t left his thoughts since that particular realization had registered.
Except. Wait. “You thought I was straight?” Noah clarified, as if that mattered at all in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it was a little embarrassing, perhaps he was a tad baffled. Certainly the public persona he presented didn’t give enough away for most people to confidently describe his sexuality in any particular way, but he’d assumed his friends would know.
Folio blinked. “Have you seen the way you dress?” was all he offered, as if that explained everything, and then he shook his head. “We’re not having that conversation right now. You just told me you liked me. Can we focus on that?”
Noah almost wished they wouldn’t. He squirmed a bit in his seat, nodded, realized Folio still had a hand on his knee. The weight and warmth was nice. He sat his camera aside, shoved his hair back out of his face, and frowned out at nothing because it was easier than looking at Folio. At least Folio seemed like the type to let someone down gently. He wasn’t going to take a rock to Noah’s still-beating heart.
But no rejection came. Instead, Folio leaned in, and there was suddenly a chin resting on Noah’s shoulder. Huh. “I like you too.” And once again, every train of thought Noah was conducting (the phrasing, frankly, gave him more agency than he truly possessed when it came to his own thoughts) shut down. The staff went on protest without warning, vacated the premises, left Noah staring at Folio with no lights on at all.
It must have made him look stupid, because Folio giggled and grinned up at Noah. “What? Is it that surprising? You’re handsome and kind and funny sometimes.” Why his friends refused to admit that Noah was hilarious was beyond him. It seemed like a bit that no one had bothered to explain to him.
Noah inched his hand closer to Folio’s — when Folio didn’t move, Noah took Folio’s hand and twined their fingers together loosely. Despite how much bigger Noah’s hand was, the smoother palm, the longer and paler digits, they fit together nicely. It looked right, and it was also easier to admire the sight than look Folio in the eyes when he asked, “So can I take you on a date?”
Another giggle, and this time Noah could hear fondness dripping from the notes. “Yeah, you can take me on a date. As long as I don’t have to dress up,” Folio added, which sounded like a fair enough condition to Noah.
In a bold move, Noah pressed a kiss to Folio’s cheek, and then he pulled back and made a face. “That was a lot easier than I expected it to be.” The admission came out twisted with resentment.
Bigs my eyes at you for #4 “Use your words.” with the ggs (reciprocal from you know who lol)
From this post // Still accepting // @desperatetype (and tagging @dodgersnotebook per their demands request)
This was supposed to be smutty. That's the point of the prompt list. It's supposed to be hot and steamy. You got maybe four paragraphs of hot shit. I am so sorry, my guy. The GGs (Ryan and Vinny) got real fucking gay with it. Mostly Ryan.
No daddy!Ryan content but a smidge of puppy!Vin. From Ryan's POV, which is the first thing I've posted from his. Not sure how I feel about it, but this is just a quick and casual thing.
Speaking of: this is just a quick and casual thing. I am not fussing over it because I want to clear out my prompt requests. I put my heart and soul into it 'cause I do that with all of my writing, but it was also written in one sitting and not extensively edited. I hope you still enjoy!!
Divider by @/saradika-graphics
There was something to be said for the size difference between Ryan and Vinny. Sure, Ryan wasn’t much taller than Vinny, but he was definitely broader. Big enough to manhandle Vinny to his heart’s content, though there was a certain quality to the gentler moments of realization too.
Like now, Vinny and Ryan spooning in yet another hotel room bed. Ryan nosed into Vinny’s hair, splayed a palm flat across Vinny’s stomach to pull him back flush against Ryan’s body. It was an intimate sort of alignment, the way their bodies fit together, but Vinny had made it abundantly clear that he enjoyed the soft lines of Ryan’s body.
And it wasn’t innocent enjoyment, either. Vinny was supposed to be asleep — Ryan was working on getting there — but had started up small little wiggles of his ass, brushing up against Ryan’s groin for a brief moment, then a longer one. An arch to his back to press more firmly, and then Vinny was all but grinding back onto Ryan.
Vinny could undoubtedly feel how Ryan was reacting, but the larger man was doing his best to ignore his own reaction. It was far more of a punishment to Vinny to not acknowledge him at all than to chastise him, after all, so Ryan was just going to grunt, squeeze Vinny tight around his middle, and pointedly refuse to admit that he was half-hard already.
A whine, more puppy-like than a grown man should reasonably sound, and Vinny pawed at Ryan’s hand, trying to shove it down lower. They were both clad in nothing but boxers — which was Ryan’s first mistake, really, but the room was uncomfortably warm and the thermostat was clearly broken — and feeling Vinny’s abs flex beneath his touch was making it hard for Ryan to maintain his composure.
As it was, though, Ryan just snorted against the shell of Vinny’s ear. “You want something, pup?” he murmured, fingertips pressing firmer into flesh to hold his current, more respectable location on Vinny’s body.
“No shit, Sherlock.” Vinny sounded faintly irritable, though Ryan knew that was all his desperation. Somehow, in the ten minutes they’d been laying in the quiet, dark room, Vinny had worked himself up into something resembling a very familiar horny mess. The kind of mess that needed a firm tone and a collar.
Ryan only had one of those at the moment, though. “Use your words.” When Vinny groaned, he added, “I can’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”
He ignored the things Vinny muttered, only half-heard anyways, and then grinned into Vinny’s neck when the smaller man finally, voice a little nasally with annoyance, said, “I want you to touch me. My dick. I want you to touch my dick. I’m hard and I can’t sleep like this, Ryan. I’ll die.” He sounded so certain, too, like falling asleep horny was well known to be fatal.
A thoughtful hum as Ryan slowly, slowly slid his hand lower. His fingers dipped under the waistband of Vinny’s boxers but just rested there, nails gently scratching at the thin pubic hair beneath his touch. “Yeah? You’re that turned on right now?” he mused, audibly skeptical on purpose.
Vinny made a frustrated noise. “Yes! I’m throbbing! I have a sexy man plastered to my back and we’re almost naked. Get off my ass. Or more on it. Or in it. I don’t care, just make me cum.” It finally seemed to click, then. “Please. Please, Ryan,” he added.
Ryan tugged at Vinny’s boxers and laughed when Vinny enthusiastically helped wiggle them down enough for his cock to spring free. He was, in fact, hard enough that anyone else might have been embarrassed. Vinny, though, just groaned as Ryan wrapped his fingers around him.
It was another moment where the size discrepancy caught at something in Ryan: his own wide palm, his thick fingers, holding Vinny’s dick. Vinny was on the smaller side to begin with, but he seemed even smaller with Ryan holding him like this. Ryan didn’t move his hand for a long moment, chin hooked over Vinny’s shoulder to admire the sight; he did thumb at the head absentmindedly, able to easily tease it while loosely grasping his cock.
“Did you forget how to do it, dude?” Vinny interjected abruptly, trying to buck up into Ryan’s touch.
Ryan snorted. “No. Just lookin’. You look so cute in my hand, pup,” he answered, sounding far more fond than he intended to. It wasn’t his fault that Vinny always managed to soften his edges, make his snarky remarks sound gentler than they did with anyone else. He blamed it all on how big Vinny’s eyes were, how his nose would scrunch when he was thinking, the way he looked at Ryan like he couldn’t imagine life without him.
Which was all far too emotional for the current moment. Ryan had a gorgeous, annoying man writhing against him and a hard dick in his hands. He could wax poetic about his maybe-something later.
“I should make you do the work,” Ryan remarked. He gave a few slow strokes and then stilled his hand. “You want to cum, right? You’re gonna die if you don’t?” When Vinny nodded, he huffed another laugh and nudged Vinny with one knee. “Then get to it. Fuck my hand.” The order had barely left his lips before Vinny was complying as best he could, clutching at Ryan’s thick wrist and groaning at the feeling of friction — finally — on his cock.
It didn’t take long for Vinny’s breath to quicken, to shorten into shallow little pants. Ryan could catch a glimpse of Vinny’s tongue peeking out of his mouth, and something about that almost convinced him to fuck the drummer through the mattress. Almost. Instead, though, he murmured encouragement in Vinny’s ear, watching where Vinny’s cock pumped in and out of the circle of his grasp.
Vinny came with a long, drawn-out whine and a shudder, flopping back against Ryan and exhaling with far too much theatrics. “You could have helped out some, you know. I was basically jerking myself off,” he mumbled, wiping himself off with the blanket they’d shoved aside and then flinging it as if worried it was contagious jizz.
Ryan scoffed. “We both know you love how your dick fits in my hand.” He did too, craved the sight of it. “If you want to take care of it yourself next time, though . . .” He trailed off, grinning when Vinny immediately started rambling in protest.
“Why would I go back to the five finger solo special when I have a boyfriend, though? A hot one with a big hand who says sexy shit in my ear?” Vinny kept talking because, well, it was Vinny, but Ryan’s brain had stopped with that first sentence.
Eventually, when he realized Vinny had lost what he was saying and that Ryan wasn’t even sure what the current topic was, Ryan cleared his throat. “Vin. Vinny.” He waited for Vinny to fall silent and then spoke. “You just called me your boyfriend?” It wasn’t meant to be a question, but it came out one regardless.
A beat of silence. “Yeah? ‘Cause you are?” Vinny replied, and Ryan could picture the furrow to Vinny’s brow.
Oh. “Oh.” Ryan thought about it for a moment, sat with the word, and then went about tugging Vinny’s boxers back up. “Well, boyfriend says it’s time to shut up and sleep,” he announced, still wondering when the fuck that had happened.
Vinny rocked his hips back against Ryan, drawing his attention to the fact he was still hard. “You still got a situation.”
Ryan shook his head, trusted Vinny would feel it even if he couldn’t see it, and settled a hand on one of Vinny’s soft hips. “I’m good. I won’t die if I go to sleep with a boner. We gotta be up at four, remember? And one of us has to be up to entertain Rick,” he pointed out, earning a snort from Vinny, who finally seemed content to snuggle back.
A loud, long yawn from Vinny. “Cool.” And then he was asleep, leaving Ryan to roll his eyes and press a kiss to his bare shoulder. He wondered if he’d get to sleep any time soon, but at least he had silence to think now.
I would love to hear more of your Vinny and Will thoughts, anything you have to offer.
I am so sorry this took so long, Anon! I do, in fact, have some thoughts about these two.
My inbox is still open for any requests for thoughts/thots/headcanons about any band guys and/or ships, by the way!
Below the cut, you're gonna find some NSFW themes/content, mentions of smoking weed/being high, and uhh.. gay gremlin men.
You know these two are smoking buddies. They're both high and a little (a lot) giggly when they kiss the first time. It's a bro kiss, though. They make-out kiss when high as bros. Surely neither of them have a crush. That'd be silly.
That being said, they're both struck by tour crush syndrome real bad. It's obvious with both of them. Bandmates give them hell but do nothing to help either, like, get their shit together.
Will does manage to out-yap Vinny somehow -- and more than once!
Both of them try to fit on Will's silly little fold-up scooter (and eat shit). They do this more than once. They do this more than once in public.
The first time they "fuck," it's literally just them frotting and cumming in their pants. Fully clothed like hormonal teens. And since Will is, well, Will, he keeps going (with Vinny "trapped" beneath him) until Vinny's a whining, writhing mess.
It costs so much when these two get takeout. They put away food like no one's business. Like, everyone complains when they add to the group orders.
Trans man!Vinny! Will's the chillest dude about it. In fact, he loves that Vinny's dick (strap) can be customized. When he wants a small dick for a quickie with little prep, that's an option. When the size queen in him comes out and he wants stretched? Vinny's got him covered. (Will doesn't even think to ask why Vinny brings multiple dicks on tour.)
The dirty talk gets so stupid sometimes. Will's often loudly cackling when they have sex. "God, Vin, just fuck me already." "Hold on. Chat, is this gay?"
The internet goes crazy shipping them. It's so hard for Vinny specifically to behave and not tongue Will in public. He doesn't want to give any fans heart failure, after all. (Chris makes him refrain because if Vinny's gonna be doing that, he needs to realize he likes Will first. C'mon, man.)
Anyways! Thank you for letting me yap! I hope you enjoyed, and anyone and everyone is free to riff on any of this!
I am going to ramble for a Bit and it's all NSFW content anyways, so look below the cut for my answers. Apologies now. (I haven't typed anything yet, I just know it's going to be ridiculous.)
Humiliation: Are they into it? Why or why not? How far will they go? Do they enjoy being de-humanized or is it more being made fun of?
I love, love, love that the prompt distinguishes between these two and that you sent in two boys who have very different answers while both being solid affirmatives.
Folio loves humiliation. Slipping in my headcanon that Folio is slightly smaller in penis size than average, that's one thing he doesn't like being humiliated for (it's cute, actually, perfect for holding in your hand-- ANYWAYS), but anything else is on the table. Too eager? Pathetic? Cumming early? He's not so much into humiliating tasks (like licking a boot or anything), but verbally degrade him and he is hard for it.
Noah is my freaky little guy of the Bad Omens boys. He is into humiliation to the point of dehumanizing. That's his favorite kind of humiliation. Make him feel like less than a person. So many people inflate who he is, make him into something ethereal and larger than life -- he just wants a chance to be less than, to not feel the weight and pressure of expectation. He's just some mindless, stupid toy to be used; he's there to make someone feel good and nothing else.
Zones: Favorite places they like to be touched? Are some less obvious than others? Any places they absolutely hate being touched?
I'm avoiding the obvious answers because those are, well, obvious.
Folio loves chin scratches. He doesn't know he loves belly rubs, but he does. Also, his nipples. I feel like this man thrives on nipple play. Squirming, writhing man. He hates, hates, hates having his feet touched. And it's absolutely not because he's ticklish!! (It is. It's because his feet are unbearably ticklish. Also, Noah's not necessarily opposed to feet as a Thing but you can be damn sure Folio is.)
Noah likes having the back of his neck squeezed, if someone can reach it. It's soothing and settling. He likes his earlobes being bitten as a way to wind him up. There's no body part that I see and my brain goes, "That's a no for him," but it's probably lack of imagination rather than an absence of a real answer.
Erotica: Do they read or watch it? Does it get them in the mood? Do they create it themselves?
Nicholas would read it, I think. Not obsessively, but often enough. He reads it enough to know bad erotica when he sees it, and sometimes he'll let out a quiet little laugh while he's reading a particularly awful one. Writer!Nicholas actually has a pseudonym he publishes erotica under! Writing it doesn't turn him on, but reading good erotica will have him keyed up and craving intimacy.
Jolly's read it once or twice. While it seems like tasteful erotica would be up his alley, it's not really that gratifying for him. He certainly talks like he reads it, though, and says some filthy things in bed or even in his partner's ear in (semi-)public places. I don't think he'd ever try to write it himself.
Yes: Do they have any specific turn ons? Things that will automatically make your muse say yes to sleeping with someone else. If not, what are some other things that get them in a more romantic mood? Lighting? Dinner?
I don't think Nicholas or Jolly would decide to just sleep with someone unless they were in a relationship or had a rapport already. The way this is phrased, it sounds like it's referring to hook-ups, and I don't think a stranger could utter anything that'd really get them that worked up. Not a super Fanfiction[TM] answer, but an honest one.
Nicholas is always a sucker for rope. If his partner leaves it laying at the foot of the bed to be cheeky or drop a hint, he's going to find them and drag them into the bedroom immediately. He loves when his partner dresses up (I feel like he can appreciate lingerie for a lot of reasons, and the least horny one is because he's an artist). Seeing them in lace has him ready to go. In general, though, I think Nicholas is a slow burn guy. He has to work up to the heat of lust. Sometimes that's through the romantic gestures -- a homemade dinner, a special moment, slow dancing to music (either playing from a speaker or hummed/sang by his partner).
Jolly loves acts of submission. Sometimes he pushes for or prompts them, but if his partner spontaneously offers their submission? Um, yes, please. If he walks in and his partner's already naked, kneeling, and waiting, they're not gonna be able to walk the next day, and he's decided that the moment his eyes land on them. Being romantic is also likely to end in him pulling someone into bed, and I think he also likes the cheesy little gestures like Nicholas does.
Tagging @sable-fable per request! Enjoy my silly thoughts!
