#instead of speaking into a bubble

[super-kristuff]

So, I’ve been really into Magic lately, and I went to tournament yesterday and lost. And like, it has really put me in a bad mood?

Like, I’ve been trying to think sit and think about it, because honestly, it has put me in a really bad mood, which makes me think I’m really upset about something bigger. So, I’m trying to write it down to help think about it.

Currently, I think the biggest thing that is bothering me is that I was wrong. I was really hopeful and really excited to play in the tournament. My school had a snow day, and I spent most of the day planning my deck, swapping out cards, and building something that I felt was really impressive. And like, I’m not bothered that I lost. I’m bothered that I lost badly. I don’t think I made any kind of impactful play throughout the entire four hour tournament. In game three, my teammate asked me if I had ever played the deck before.

And like, I think I’ve been really trying to get into Magic in order to socialize. I just don’t know people in the area, and I really want to get out and do things. So like, even though my teammate was really cool and I don’t really think they were bummed out, I think I’m worried that doing badly in the game means I’m doing badly at socializing?

Idk. I also think it’s tied into how I view myself. Because like, I am very upset that I was wrong. That, this was one of the rare times where I had the time, motivation, and resources to build something and show it off, and in the end, it wasn’t impressive at all. Like, I did it! I built the thing! I put all of my efforts into building the deck, and for it to perform the way it did suggests that my problem with creating things isn’t time, motivation, or resources, but instead the problem is that it’s me making it.

And like, I’ve been struggling with months at work to make engaging and fun classes that are also informative. And like, I also haven’t made any videogames in months? Like, I built that visual novel structure, and I was like, cool, if I just write a story and make some art, I’ll have a really impressive video game. So like, not being able to build a good deck for a game makes me feel like I can’t build anything.

And like, I was feeling kind of positive after writing the social paragraph. Like, writing it out and thinking about it, I like to believe in people. I am starting to get to know the people that play magic, and I kind of trust that they are cool and were interested in the things I was doing even if they didn’t pan out.

But then the self paragraph brought me back down. Like, I can’t just be like, “oh, my perception was wrong again. I’m actually great at everything, and I just need to change my perspective in regards to how I view myself.” Because the deck didn’t perform. I very much have evidence that I wasn’t able to make the thing.

And so, I think I’m caught up in analyzing where things went wrong. Trying to pick out the bad cards and replace them with other, more viable cards. And it’s stopping me from moving on? Like, I’m worried that my mindset of “it is always possible to improve myself and get better” is what’s making me feel bad. But, I feel giving that up means I’ll stop improving.

And I want to improve so I can make the things I want to make. So, maybe I interpret moving on as giving up?

Idk. I feel better now. I’m starting to get lost in all the layers of self-abstraction, so I think I’ll just do something else for a while. Maybe I’ll cook something? Or just watch YouTube videos. More likely the later.

Anyway, I hope anyone reading this is having a wonderful day.

#vent #rant #ok additional thoughts #I was thinking about whether I should actually post this #and like I don’t know if I want or don’t want my friends to see this #and like I think I want to post it so they can see it and think about me #but I don’t want to message them because I don’t really want to talk about it #and like maybe that’s a problem #maybe I need to be more open with my friends and actually talk to other people #instead of speaking into a bubble #but like I also feel this serves a purpose of letting me clear my thoughts #which I don’t feel talking does #idk I’m done now #bye

[pantherloid]

💬

#uwaa #vocaloid #kagamine len #len kagamine #鏡音レン #concept for when len speaks in english in-universe in visual/speech bubble form #its supposed to be written like how i'd tune his jp v4 to speak english #we do not use len v4 eng in this house 🗯🗯 plus i havent learnt #how to use eng vbs yet #do you think i wouldve been the worst offender talkaloider if i learnt vocaloid back in the day instead of now

[braisedhoney]

so you’re asking for some prompt ideas :) that’s great ! i love your small dark comic and hope to do more (i love the lore) but i was wondering if you could the captain being angry or mad or smthg and hold dark wrists and says don’t. basically that scene in iswm. Or some Mack stuff thanks!

“I’ve almost got it, Captain!”

‘Take your time. No rush.’

OKAY ONE LAST DON’T MEME. ONE.

Also extra heads up, I won’t be making comics for every one of the requests I actually pick. I have no idea how I kept up the momentum, but I’m pretty close to hitting burnout again lmao. 

(For the record I did want to do the Mack stuff, but this started as a sketched out meme and ended in a comic because I’m insane. Also vaguely inspired by one of my other asks which involved some of the characters playing cards at the end of the universe.)

Brushes: 

 - Jingsketch Clean Render (all sketching, painting, drawing, etc.) 

- Random watercolor brush again (backgrounds)

#I just couldn’t help myself #also this is the most serious y/n the captain face I’ve ever drawn and it’s for a goddamn meme what is my life rn #But this was fun! #yancy simps if you’re waiting with baited breath I’ve got something in the works just for you ;) #Secret heads up for those of you who read these tags ig #okay let’s get into the functional shit now #y/n the captain #darkiplier #markiplier #head engineer mark #(my boy <3] #iswm #iswm 2 #in space with markiplier #in space with markiplier 2 #markiplier fanart #iswm fanart #(fun bonus fact: my captain doesn’t speak. Their speech bubbles are just conveyed somehow like in the show.) #that’s why they’re rectangles instead of circles like normal ones lol #Also if you’re wondering #yes this is what the Eye Survey was about #so if you don’t like the captain having an eyeball in this scene blame yourselves /j #Initially I was SO UPSET about the don’t scene bc being betrayed by another member of my crew #let alone Mark #Emotionally devastated me #But now it’s a meme and that is goddamn hilarious #Still won’t stop me from weeping at the ‘hold on’ ending though #ney's art #ney's chatter (ask answers) #ney's comics

[gender-trash]

hello? stackoverflow? has anyone else noticed the new git release behaving... a little different?

[transcript under the cut]

git (a catboy wearing an oversized hoodie, doing his very best 🥺 and pushing his fingertips together sadly): ...you... you reset --hard origin me? you reset --hard origin me because of the merge conflict? oh! OH! jail! jail for $USER! jail for $USER for one THOUSAND years!

$USER, in a spiky speech bubble, from offscreen: THIS WASN'T IN THE FUCKING MAN PAGE!

#the trashcan speaks #fujoguide #technoholic robotronic #this was supposed to be a yelling speech bubble but i just realized its the like. manga thoughts bubble instead. oops. #oh well im a professional robot torturer not a professional mangaka

[crimsonbubble]

we're down to 10 asks!! gonna see if i can get down to 5 by tonight ^^

#bubbly speaks <3 #accidently posted a fic thing last night instead of queueing it TvT #cleaned out the inbox a bit and answered some asks!! #hoping to empty my inbox soon so yall can send in more :D

[badolmen]

oh my god if tumblr live is dead do you think they’ll put the post button back????

#ra speaks #personal #tumblr #tumblr live #tumblr update #for those of you who forgot the mobile layout used to have the same tray at the bottom of the screen #except instead of the tumblr live button in the middle it was the post button #and we didn’t have the stupid bubble post button ABOVE the tab tray #pls pls pls let them put it back I’m beggingggggg #I don’t want them to change the tray layout for four icons I don’t want the bubble anymore give her back

[milf-harrington]

me: i need to write a bunch of purposefully shit short stories to get all the rotted writing out of me so i can write properly again

also me: *doesnt do that*

#it's like running the tap to get the air bubbles out after the waters been turned off for a bit yknow?? #if you dont get it all out your waters gonna be weird and spluttery every time you turn on the tap #but im not doing that - instead im drawing eddie munson again #captain speaks

[deus-ex-mona]

my mother: “want some dessert? it’s aiyu jelly!”

me:

#when i say that i hate aiyu i’m mostly taking about aiyu jelly (unless lxl are in the gacha. then i hate them too) #i don’t even know why and how that blasted jelly can sell so well #it’s bland and wobbly and only ever tastes mildly decent with lime #and yet somehow?? my mother has it as a bubble tea topping quite often??? and she also buys it for dessert and i???? #though speaking of jelly this reminds me of this grass jelly thing that’s pronounced the same as chinchou the pokemon #i googled ‘chinchou grass jelly’ and lost it when chinchou the pokemon showed up in the search results instead #though hmm… maybe i should introduce lxl to my mother so that she’ll become an aiyu anti too— #anyway yeah. happy trick or treating ig? though if you’re offered aiyu jelly it’s more of a trick instead of a treat (ʘ‿ʘ) #konnyaku jelly is much better frrr. agar sucks too (esp lab agar bc the streak plates never turn out right >:() #oh dear my brother ate the aiyu too. lol

[beeapocalypse]

the amount of fun visuals u can come up w for annie while shes speaking w ppl is staggering but alas. nothing but tits and ass from the comic

#bubbling up an idea for engie bees first time speaking 2 her after his artificial birth+her shutting down his attempt-- #--to get her to see how fucked the earth is the same way he just realized (bc it ISNT fucked to her! every g user has-- #--a backup and can go on living perfectly happy up in the cloud even as the earth crumbles to bits !). idea is that-- #--its Before engie bee uses the straw app 2 create the unconnectables and that doing so was an attempt 2 create a group of ppl-- #--who Werent able to go on living happy virtual lives when everything got too fucked to stay survivable. the idea of annie defaulting to-- #--how she treats the average user when interacting w engie bee bc he Isnt the [whatever gromovs title is i cannot-- #--remember it lol] but instead just an unneeded clone really gets 2 me. shes the first to call him doctor alexander gromov ........ B lol #anyways. good morning

[woosansang]

🌟 any topic u want to get off ur chest!! or just any thought that crosses ur mind :)

send me a 🌟 + topic and I’ll rant to you in a voice note!!!

#asked #jazzy talks but make it literal #megan 🧋 #sanhwaiting #do not rb #thank u for the opportunity to get things off my chest but im very bad at speaking with actual words abt that kind of stuff #so instead i present u with a random thought as i look at my leftover bubble tea pearls in the cup next to me lmao sdbfhsj

[nunap]

rant

Ngl it kinda annoys me that the loudest parts of fandoms are kstans and twitter stans because they absolutely don't represent thousands of people but act like they own the ✨ultimate only truth✨ and often idols rely on their opinions and rude takes like it was facts.

#the times i saw idols going on twitter saying lol i saw that so you guys think that #or even idk a song is a fandom favourite but not a twt favourite so they think umh they don't like it DUDE THEY BULLY PEOPLE FOR A LIVING #for skz especially with bubble and insta etc they seem to ignore ifans a whole lot asking stuff to Koreans #(also theres this big misconception that ifans are all white koreaboos americans that shouldn't talk-why?- when they're not) #but with ateez as well. yes local fans are important but shouldnt have all that power that ifans can't get bc they are closed out of convos #due to a language barrier and then y have hyunjin kim saying to a 25 yo they can't flirt or must lose weight or don't go abroad #and often idols oblige instead of calling out like i saw em do with istans for lesser bs #it's particularly annoying when fandoms are diverse and ur a lil older and u have chronically online 14 yo speaking for u

[itsaspectrumcomic]

Every month is autism month for me!

[ID: A comic titled "April is Autism Acceptance Month!"

The narrator, a light skinned person with brown hair, says "You might see some places "lighting it up blue" or sharing puzzle piece imagery this month, but a lot of autistic people prefer to avoid that due to its association with Autism Speaks." Within the speech bubble is a blue puzzle piece with a red cross next to it. The narrator continues, "Autism Speaks sees autism as a disease that needs to be cured and eradicated, which it isn't. So to avoid that, we generally prefer RED instead!" The words "red instead" are shown on the narrator's shirt.

The narrator continues, "or the golden infinity symbol: (it's gold because au is the symbol for gold in the periodic table." There are illustrations of a gold infinity symbol and the periodic table symbol for gold, made to say "autism", next to the text.

Text continues "Not every autistic person celebrates autism acceptance month which is fine! It's optional :)

At the bottom, the narrator wears a red shirt with the gold infinity symbol on it and says "whether you celebrate or not, I hope you have a lovely month." End ID]

Thank you @teatual for the description!

#autism #actually autistic #autism acceptance #autism acceptence month #red instead #described #image described

[garden-eel-draws]

Okay, so I'm currently in the middle of a watch/rewatch of Miraculous Ladybug, because it's a cute action cartoon with fun villain designs and I keep hearing rumors of bonkers lore that I missed, so I decided to catch up with it. The fact that I'm happily a few episodes into Season 4 should tell anyone familiar with this show just how tolerant I am of status-quo-focused, highly episodic cartoons with inconsistent lore that doesn't always make sense. I'm a longtime fan of Transformers G1, so that kinda set the bar for me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That said, I am STRUGGLING through "Ladybug & Cat Noir: the Movie". The one that was made a musical, for some reason, and that I unfortunately can't watch in French because I have..."acquired" it.

At every turn, I'm just going "why???". Mostly when it comes to wtf they did to the characters in the title. Why are their personalities like...half-inverted? It's like half their cartoon personalities (I know they ain't that deep, but they're existent/consistent enough that this is bugging me) have been flipped backward. One moment they act recognizably like the versions in the show I've been watching, and then they're back to Generic American Sassy Protagonists 1 and 2. Maybe a lot of it is just the English voices that don't quite fit, but it's all so off! Given that a major guy working on the cartoon directed and wrote this movie, I'm just baffled.

Also, apparently this film is the second most expensive ever made in France??? And it made back half its budget. Ouch. Watching it, I understand why the fandom didn't exactly flood the theaters, but ouch.

#eel speak #rant #today i'm watching #miraculous #why is marinette quiet and shy. where is the bubbly manic earnestness. why is she able to shut up. #why is adrien not drinking his wife guy juice. why isn't he reckless and punning and running at the danger instead of away from it. #it's like their personalities (such as they are) were ironed out flat! how does a guy in charge of the show make his own characters OOC? #je suis desolé mes miraculers if you guys love this movie. i genuinely like the show (and the fanfics) but this film is hard to watch >_<'' #granted i'm only halfway thru so maybe they snap into character later on but it's very uuggghhh so far

[snzyspencer]

The pain in my throat lessened up so now I can actually swallow, but now my nose is stuffed up and I can’t stop sneezing. Both symptoms impact my ability to speak properly, which is a real limitation considering my job is public speaking.

#did I show up to work today and ask my coworker to speak the entire day instead of me? #yes #sorry to burst the bubble of contagion fans out there but I did call out sick tomorrow #two days of struggling through work while ill is enough for me #just sick things #sick #snz #sneezing #snz kink #snz blog #snzblr #snz fucker #snz fet

[azullumi]

"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down. 

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind. 

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so. 

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two. 

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i’m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave. 

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed? 

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.

for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#azul.writes #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #star rail aventurine #aventurine x you #hsr x you #star rail #honkai #aventurine #honkai imagines #aventurine imagines #honkai x reader #hsr fluff #hsr aventurine x reader

[hwaitham]

𝓯𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 ‎

wriothesley x sub!f!reader . nsfw — mdni . rewrite + repost from old blog ﾉ established relationship ﾉ daddy kink ﾉ breeding ﾉ oral [ m -> f ] ﾉ dirty talkin' ooo finger suckin' ooooo (๑ ˃̵͈́ᵕ˂̵͈̀ ) ﾉ infantilization + mindbreak ﾉ praise ﾉ lotsa petnames [ babydoll + little girl + princess + sweetheart + baby ] ﾉ sappie wuvie dovie sex bcos ! ! well :3 it's me !

the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now— three hours after the stronghold’s annual boxing spectacle, two hours after champagne showers, one hour after all the prisoners and gardes have made their way back to their sleeping quarters.

the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now, nearly— it’s pitch black, nearly, save for the warm yellow flickers of the half-functioning light fixture hanging above the ring’s canvas, the image it casts on the rusty steel walls of two bodies pressed together.

a dancing shadow of your back curling into a perfect arch off the floor, the tilts and turns of wriothesley’s head as he fervently suckles on your clit with alcohol-stained lips, the heels of your frilly-socked feet digging further into his shoulder blades, toes wriggling within the lavender fabric.

“daddy—!”

“pussy tastes so good—”

“pleasepleaseplease— won’t last if you keep— h-huuughh…”

“so fuckin’ sweet— shit, babydoll.”

it’s not like your lover to dirty talk you like this— obscenely and unabashedly and so greedily— licking and sucking and slurping and huffing, blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs, past the white stockings he’s fortuitously torn off your legs where he now leaves little mauve moons upon your skin.

your lover is usually all grunts and groans and whines that get tangled in his throat— but you adore it when he gets like this. you adore it when he gets all touchy and clingy and desperate for your love after he’s knocked back a couple drinks, you adore the carnivorous growl in his voice when he tells you, fuck, princess, need you so bad, you adore the shower of praise and kisses and bold touches where his heart lies in his fingertips and he smudges lines of pink and red all over your flesh.

“pretty little pussy’s all mine… look at you, sweet thing practically drooling for daddy, yeah?” wriothesley moans, speaking more to your cunt instead of you, and pulls away, slick strung in a thin ribbon that connects his lip to the pearl of your clit. he watches how your hole twitches and clamps around air as it searches for something that only he can give you— hungry and ready with how much of your sticky cream oozes from it and drips down the globe of your ass, soaks the silk of his scarlet boxing robe that you lay atop of.

and your daddy’s right— it is practically drooling, so pathetically leaking for him. 

“fuckin’ gorgeous.”

a glob of saliva builds under his tongue at the sight, and he gathers it in the purse of his lips before spitting it out onto your pussy, watching the frothy bubbles cling to your skin, laughing lowly when you begin to whimper and writhe beneath him, knead biscuits on his chest in a weak attempt to push him away.

“daddy, ‘s embarrassing when you look, o-oh—!” your protests are shushed when he collects the stringy mixture of his spit and your slick from your pussy and moves back up to meet your lips, kiss you messily.

“ah, ah, ahhh… don’t get all shy on m’now, sweetheart.”

the peach champagne on his tongue hits you after the sugary saltiness of your release, and evidently, you realize he must be drunk by the slur of his words, the greedy paws that cup your pussy, and then grab at your hips, your waist, your breasts.

a sharp glint of bright white has one of your eyes squeezing shut when wriothesley shifts to look down at you, his smile nothing short of beguiling. his frame is wide— broad shoulders and a strapping chest and sinewy arms that you’re caged under, the gold of the medal hanging loosely off his veiny neck reflecting the light from above.

and, oh, wriothesley thinks you look so pretty when the heavy metal thuds against your cheek amidst his soft swaying— he thinks you’ll look even prettier with his victory wrapped around your neck, because what’s his is yours, yours is his; you belong to him and he belongs to you.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.

bringing the gold up to his lips, he places a sweet kiss on it, lowering the medal back down to you so you can place another one right on top of his, baritone voice losing it’s primal growl and replaced with something more silky, loving. “fuck, couldn’t have won this without you.”

your fingers scrabble at one of wriothesley’s hands, holding it tight to your chest— to your heart— because you think the sheer sincerity in his voice is enough to have you losing balance and falling into an abyssal love. but that’s okay, that’s where you belong, deep, drowning in it, because you love him, you love him, you love him.

“love you, i love you, daddy— so, so much; love you forever…”

and the fortress’ duke thinks you just might kill him, with that admission.

with that milky, fuzzy, adoring look in your eyes, and how you press his palm to your heart, serve him your entire soul on a diamond-embedded platter— it cuts into his chest and carves deep into his flesh. your words are flames, and they are but dew on his skin, soothing and healing. 

something knots in his throat; and all of a sudden he feels overwhelmed— by the rush of alcohol in his blood, by how sweet you’re being for him, by the painful ache of his leaky cock as he slides the length up and down your folds, each of his movements decorated by a tiny whimper that’s pried from your throat.

“fuuuuck, haha— love your daddy that much, huh? well, i love you, princess. love you even after forever.” wriothesley hunches over so close to you, cupping your cheeks with such delicate care— as if you’re crafted from the finest porcelain— before he kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, shoving an eternity’s worth of promises and secrets down into your lungs.

he pulls back shortly thereafter to admire your kiss-swollen lips, wiping the pearls that dew at your lashes from just how achingly painful your weeping cunt feels— from how awfully you need to have your daddy inside you.

“inside— nghhh, wanna feel you inside, wanna—”

“i know, i know, but can you be a big girl ‘nd wait a little longer? can y’do that for daddy?” he shushes you with a sweet coo and prod of his thumb at the swell of your bottom lip, gathering the drool that sits there, before you obediently take the digit into your mouth. his cock jumps against your clit and wriothesley doesn’t realize that his mouth has been watering at the show you’ve been putting on for him until a drop of spit lands on your shoulder— your smaller fingers lightly wrapping around his wrist to hold his hand in place, sucking and swirling your tongue around his thumb, licking the tip repeatedly and hollowing your cheeks, giving his thumb the same attention and care you would his cock.

“a-awhhh, shit— you’re such a good girl, mhm?”

your hips grind up mindlessly against your lover’s cock at his praise and your mind fogs up in submission, taking the digit deeper, deeper, suckling and licking until you’re drivelling spit down your chin, giggling stupidly and coating his heart in fondant. “mhmmm, hehe—! wanna be your good girl, daddy…”

“yeah? archons, you’re so cute,” he chuckles with you, shaking his head at how you’ve already gone featherbrained from so much as a mere suckle of his finger, pinching your cheek softly within his thumb and forefinger. “gonna put it in now, ‘kay? gonna give you your cock ‘nd you’re gonna take it; like my good little girl.”

with his free hand, he holds the heavy weight of his cock in the palm, tapping it over your clit and thumbing at his slit to coax more pre out from it, using the glossy cream to lubricate you further as he slowly pushes his aching, flushed tip past the tight ring of muscle lining your entrance. there’s a lewd, wet pop that follows when he gets his bulbous head settled in between your sticky walls, and he can’t suppress the noise— something in between a groan and laugh— that escapes him.

“fuuuck me, y’hear that?” squelch, squelch, squelch. “haha, that’s my liquid luck.”

“uh huh, ‘s yours, daddy— ‘s all yours, i’m all youuurs,” your voice comes out as a sweet, broken keen, one that dizzies wriothesley and has blood flooding his cock.

“a-ah, you’re gonna be the death of me, i swear…” his breathing picks up as he shallowly thrusts himself deeper into your cunt— it hugs him like a vice— like it loves him, his cock, like it wants to milk it dry. 

and without warning, he sinks fully inside of you until he’s buried deep in your sopping cunt— it’s a perfect fit. where his oozing tip is pressed up snugly against your cervix, every ridge and vein hitting all the right spots that line your walls. 

you drawl out a pitchy whine of his designation at the sudden split of his cock, hiccuping on your breath as he leans his whole weight on you and pushes your thighs back to meet your chest until the backs of your knees land on his shoulders, hips gyrating to grind his pubic bone down on your puffy bud. it soothes the sharp tremors of pain ripping through your core, washing them over with waves of pleasure, and you can only arch your chest up into his almost instinctually, fingers finding his face to trace sloppy stars over high-set cheekbones. 

“daddy, daddyyyy, i wanna k-kiss…”

your boyfriend smiles adoringly in response, not ignoring the heavy throbs and twitches of his cock within your drooling cunt at how fucking stunning you look underneath him: pouty and glassy-eyed as you weakly tug him closer by the lanyard of his medal, all ditsy and limbs pliable like the sweet little baby doll of his that you are, head near empty with nothing but daddy, daddy, daddy on your brain.

wriothesley finds himself unable to do anything but indulge your desperation, brushing his lips against yours softly— once, twice, until he feels your velvety breath settle in his lungs, and then he’s left craving more. 

“ohhh, baby, so tight.” his hips begin to rock against yours, and with each drag of his fat cock along your gummy walls, a hot knot begins to boil in the pit of your stomach. 

your lips break free from wriothesley’s when his thumb finds your clit, feeling him trace his name over the sensitive nub, gazing up at him through your dumbed out doe eyes, tongue caught in between your teeth in a dreamy little smile. because he looks so handsome like this, so, so gorgeous with raven and sleet slicked back by his fingers and the small strands that bounce and fall and curl around the pinch of his brows— it’s like he’s made of stardust and moonshine and tufts of clouds from the celestial skies.

“you won me this gold medal, what d’you wan’ in return? a ring? fuck— i’d give you the whole universe if you asked. put the fuckin’ oceans in the sky for you.”

an erotic mewl escapes you from how romantic he’s being and you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize the effect his champagne-kissed words have on you— your toes curl and hips grind up mindlessly into his, pussy throbbing on his cock when your clit brushes against the cream-frosted hairs at the base.

the hard clamp of your walls peels a low groan from him, head hanging low and medal gently slapping your cheek with each slow, deep stroke, “s-shit, you like that, huh? tell me what you want, sweetheart—"

“want your cum— want it inside— in here,” you cut him off with needy babbles as you bring his palms to your tummy, laying them gently over the love bites that scatter your flesh likes the stars scatter the night sky— an eternal reminder that you’re his. “please, pretty pleaseee— wanna make you a papa— mhnn!” 

and then he’s plunging into you deeper than ever before, cutting your words short, breaking them off into pitchy little pants as he presses his crotch flush against your messy, web-coated folds and swirls the tip of his dick deliciously over that one spongy spot where you’ve been needing to feel him the most.

“awh, you wanna make me a daddy? but i already am one, aren’t i?” he teases, runs his knuckles under your jaw and tugs on the plump of your lip with his teeth.

flustered by his words, you whine, shake your head petulantly and try to hide your face from him with the back of your hand. squeeze your eyes shut bashfully. melt his heart into icing and frost cupcakes with it. “nuh uhhh, you know ’s not what i mean…”

it’s staggering— how adorable you’re being for him, with your sweet pleas and darling little whines, he can’t help but huff out a growl through gritted teeth before leaning down to gather your lips in a kiss; it’s filled with so much love and so much fervour when he swallows your pretty cries with his tongue in your mouth and, fuck, he’s certain that even the mere thought of stuffing you full of his seed is enough to bring him down to his knees.

“perfect— you’re my perfect little doll, yeah? gonna make you a mother, gonna make you my wife, gonna make you the happiest girl alive.” 

and it’s all so much, too much, the thumb he has pressed flat against your tongue to pacify your sobs, the promises he washes your tears away with, the sound of gold thudding harshly against the canvas of the floor when he thrusts into you at a different angle— one that has the tip of his cock knocking at the sponge of your cervix in a way where your hips rock up into his own. “daddydaddydaddy, please, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cuuuum—!”

“my sweet girl’s already fucked silly? got nothin’ but cock on your little brain, uh huh?”

“uh huh, uh huhhhh— wan’ daddy’s cock, wan’ daddy’s cum, wanna— mmph!”

your mindless babbling pulls a harsh guttural noise deep from wriothesley’s stomach, his vision doubling at the shaky lilt to your voice, at the manicured nails that dig into his biceps and claw red wings there— an eternal reminder that he’s yours. “oh, baby, that’s it, there you go— c’mon, be a big girl and cum all over my cock.” 

“n-no! nonono, wanna cum with youuu—” you cut him off with a sharp keen, wailing out when you feel him start to thrust harder, faster, pearls of your slick and his pre spluttering out to fall as dewdrops on your thighs. doing your best to wrap your arms around his neck amidst the jostles of your body, you pull wriothesley in closer, closer, until his lips meet yours and there’s no space for air between the two of you. 

he can’t help but crumble to ashes as you weep into the kiss, as you cling to him— it’s heart-wrenchingly cute how badly you need him. your slurred whimpers of, daddy, daddy please cum— wan’ it in me f’ever, remind him of just how much he loves you, so much, it reminds him that he is the only one for you in this timeline and every other, he is the only one that can ever make you feel this way— and, fuck, it fills him with a rush that he’s certain he’ll never find in anything else. the knot of fire that treads up his spine coils tighter on itself at the sound of your pitchy breaths and pathetic whines. 

it brings wriothesley to the heavens, and soon enough, he’s prattling on and tripping over his words just as you had been, drooling drivelling from his lips like a fucking dog.

“shiiit, all those pretty fuckin’ sounds you make, h-hah, gonna make me cum, baby— you want that? wanna make daddy cum? want his seed so deep inside ya? yeah, ohhh, i know you do, c’mon then, milk this fuckin’ cock, ’s all yours.”

and so, you moan and whimper and cry out for your daddy, goaded by his words and his cock moulding your cunt to the shape of him, toes curling and tapping helplessly over his shoulder, your orgasm flying through you from head to toe. “fuck, fuck fuck, daddy— ‘m cum’ng— cummiiiing, daddyyy—!”

it’s nothing short of endearing, how you clutch at the nape of his neck and whimper in the junction of his neck, little incoherent mumbles falling onto deaf ears. because when you cum, wriothesley cums too, seeing white, a strangled whine ripping from his throat when tiny squirts push past your hole where the creamy base of his cock sticks to your cunt and thick ribbons of his milk paint the walls of your womb.

your heart dances with wriothesley’s when they meet on the tip of his tongue, his nose brushing against yours with so much delicate care and a boyish chuckle pushing past him when your hips swirl in cute little motions to catch your clit on his pubic bone, grinding up and chasing his cock to keep it plugging you full. “wrio.” 

it comes out as a sniffle, and he can’t help but blush at the small pout you send his way. 

“yeah, princess?” he moves back to pull out of you, but your legs slip down from his shoulders in between his arms to wrap around his waist, ensuring his full length is kept inside your stuffed hole.

“if you move it’ll all leak out,” you whine, pitchy and puerile, “don’t want it to— wan’ it to stay in me forever and ever…”

his seed as a sliver of him in your tummy, a sliver of his love kept in your body until the end of time— his head falls forward into your neck where he can only bring himself to huff out an endearing laugh and repeat your words, “forever ‘nd ever, huh…?”

“mhm… forever ‘nd ever ‘nd even after that.”

you tug on the medal’s lanyard to prompt him to meet your gaze, absolutely cockdrunk and bambi-eyed with your bottom lip tugged coyly into your top teeth— wriothesley knows that look well, you cheeky little minx; and you giggle when you clamp down around him once more, coaxing another tiny rope of milk from his slit, evident by a sharp moan that escapes him mid-breath.

“you’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”

he's dizzy— either from all the alcohol or the intensity of his high or a mix of both, but he still manages to bar you to his chest with two steady hands against your back and raise you both so that you’re sitting upright on the floor, and you cry out at the shift in position, at how his cock is nestled so incredibly deep inside that you swear you can feel him piercing your womb.

and it’s a sound that so sweet, so tooth-rottingly sweet, because wriothesley can’t help but mutter out small proclamations of his love as he lays them all over your face, can’t help the excruciating ache in his limbs and muscles and the uncomfortable twist and turn of his organs because, archons, he loves you.

“gold looks good on you, wrio,” you whisper, cheeks burning with warmth and popping like corn from how wide your smile is, from the accidental tickle of his fleeting touches.

you’re floating— high on his love, floating higher, higher, until you’re swimming in the oceans he put in the sky for you, the waterfalls up in the clouds. 

the loss of his touch brings you back down to earth— his fingers are sticky, sweet and salty with drying champagne and a mix of your releases, but he could care less when he removes the medal from his neck and hangs it around yours, carefully laying the gold flat on your sternum, right above your heart.

and maybe he jumps the gun a little when he rubs your ring finger and searches for something that’s not there— his soul fanning across your face in sweet breaths when he starts thinking about white picket fences and a little angel with his hair, your eyes, his nose, your smile— the most beautiful blessing of all.

“well, i think it looks better on you.”

do u evr hate a character so much you wnt to write the most unabashedly horny smut for them . bcos i do ♡ anw hehe :3 tusm for readin ! ! ‎٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و i hope u liked dis n' it made u just as flustered as i felt when writing ⭐️ pls consider commenting ﾉ reblogging if u enjoyed aaa ( =v= ) it wld make mi so happie yayayayyy ! !

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