#please god give me drawing ability back

[sad-soup-sonic]

The circles are making me go insane

The circles are making me go insane

The circles are making me go insane

The circles are making me go insane

The circles are making me go insane

#context: I’m in an art funk and one of the few drawing experiences I know it to draw a circle so you’re hand eye coordination can improve #except I dunno what it is but my brain is in a funk where I can draw but it looks like I lost 10 years worth of practice #please god give me drawing ability back #I’ve got art finals in a month #my art #my mess #MK talks :P

[lokisgoodgirl]

Teenage Dream [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A trip to Asgard means a visit to Loki's childhood bedroom - and his teenage fantasy. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ only. Loki x Female Reader. Established relationship. Smut. Body fluids etc etc. Language.

“This is your childhood bedroom?!” Loki’s arms spread wider, turning in a lazy circle as you gape at the high ceilings and golden cornicing. Open archways lead to a balcony which runs along the full side of one wall, Asgard sprawling below in afternoon sunlight. It’s huge.

“What did you expect?” Loki shoots a lovingly indignant look over his shoulder. “Some kind of hovel-sized quarter the kind of which Stark has bestowed on Lang?”

His boots thud in quick succession on polished marble before he jumps through the air and lands on the modest queen-size with a bounce – a hand balled at his temple. The sheets have clearly been replaced since he last laid in it, but old habits die hard. The green and gold of his colours is in full effect in this room from the curtains to the tapestries and the quilt draped across the mattress. “Lie with me,” he says, looking up through his lashes. “Please?”

Something about seeing Loki dressed in his, what he still calls, ‘Midgard garms’ suddenly seems ridiculous in one of Asgard’s royal bedchambers. A pair of tight black jeans cling to his muscles, denim shifting as he draws one knee over the other to rest on the bed. His forest green t-shirt has ridden up at his lower stomach, a victim of the obscene measurements of his stretching body. He chuckles lightly, making a thick line of his obliques tighten as he slips his fingers further into mussed hair. "I told you I was a prince," he says sheepishly.

You make your way to the bed and he flips to his back, releasing a happy groan as you straddle him. His eyelids droop, a flash of his upper teeth as he bites his bottom lip. "Frigga will be expecting us," you say as you roll your hips against his crotch. "Uhhh...gods-" he grunts, large palms rubbing up your thighs tight on either side of his chest. ‘Frigga can wait. I said I would give you a tour, and give you a tour...I shall.’ "Not from down there you won’t."

You yelp as Loki sits up and his lips fasten to yours, hand cradling the back of your head and forcing you in a violent kiss. He bites your bottom lip, sucking out gently. You moan softly as his hands begin to rub your thighs again. He’s needy. The sentimentality of bringing you Asgard for the first time is doing a real number on him. Your fingers run down his neck, down the hard dips and ridges of his abdomen through the t-shirt.

“I used to pleasure myself in this bed, dreaming of a woman like you-” he says huskily, beginning to thrust upwards. The painfully tight erection bursting against denim rubs against your gusset, toying back and forth. You feel a swell of arousal web between your folds as your eyes dart towards the open door. Just a crack, but it’s enough. The guards are never far in the palace it seems, even for a Prince who’s all grown up.

“Say more,” you tease. It’s a whisper, but it seems to echo. Loki chuckles quietly into the curve of your neck before he tips you easily to the side. You meet the mattress with a bounce, your head disappearing between the crevice of two plush pillows. Loki’s long form rises above you, impossibly rectangular, spread on his knees, the denim screaming around his crotch.

“It may come as a surprise to you that I was an awkward young man,” he starts, riding up the hem of his t-shirt. His leather belt sits maddeningly at the dent of his hips, perfect alabaster skin of his stomach flashing into view. “No!? I would never have guessed...” you joke, surprised at your ability to think straight as Loki’s shirt pops over his head. He throws it away, skittering gently across the marble floor. His eyes flash mischievously.

“But I had urges, of course; fucked myself night after night like a demon; elaborate fantasies formed in my head with excruciating detail.” He falls forward against the pillows, the bulge of his shoulders tensing as he cages you.

“I wouldn’t let myself cum until every detail in my head was perfect,” he breathes, letting long tendrils of hair drag against your throat in time with the filth of his dulcet syllables. “Again and again. It was enough to drive a young man to madness.”

“Did you ever have-?” you start, cut off by a pathetic moan as Loki drags his bound cock against your clit. “Never," he whispers. "This bed is as virginal as myself when I left it.”

The warm glow of his magic pulses from his skin. Loki’s jeans are gone, replaced by a green silk robe open at the waist. It's Asgardian craftsmanship, that much is obvious. Gold weaving edges the hem, its age betrayed only by the sleeves which are a little too short. The sage shimmer melts into the wave of his hair, and for a second you can’t bring yourself to believe there wasn’t a line forming outside his bedroom every night after he came of age.

He rests back on his haunches between your legs, flipping out the robe at the nip of his taut waist. Loki’s eyes smoulder, waiting for you to ask.

“Which one do you want?” you say. It times perfectly with a twitch of his proud cock as he draws a finger back and forth along its length. His chin dips and a small smile creeps at the corner of his lips.

Loki raises a hand, a theatrical snap of his fingers making the ceiling height door to the chamber swing closed with an almighty clang. Even under normal circumstances, doors don’t close quietly in the palace; it is by design.

“My goddess riding me,” he says, raising his gaze to yours. “Then once I’ve filled her, she crawls to my face; smothers me with her perfect, dripping sex; calls my name so loudly in ecstasy that my brother hears it all the way in the taverns.”

Your brows raise. “That’s quite specific.”

Loki shrugs. “I told you. It needed to be perfect. I spent a lot of time thinking about it.” You shuffle up on the pillows, curling one side of his silk robe in a fist and pulling his mouth to yours. He manoeuvres around, lying back against the pillows with bright eyes while you crawl on top of him once more.

“Are you my sweet virginal Prince?” you ask, batting your lashes. Loki snickers. "If you like." “I do.” “Aright then,” he sniffs. “Although I should warn you, for a virgin – I am rather an expert.” “Shhh-” You press a finger to his lips. "I read a lot of books," he explains with overly-earnest eyes, muffled against your finger. “Let’s get you some practice, then..” you whisper, rolling your hips up the length of his cock. Loki whimpers, brows slanting. You can't tell if that part is for show. With a slip of his hand against your ass you feel your dress dissolve, the nip of a breeze through the open arches making your nipples stiffen. Loki’s head leaves the pillow and catches one in his mouth as your hand guides his cock between your legs. You rub the tip against your slit, slipping back and forth as guttural groans roll in his throat.

"My virgin Prince," you coo.

Loki’s head falls back to the pillow, a warning brow rising. But his eyes sparkle. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock; each hard inch of muscle tugging against your walls as you settle to the hilt.

“Every time you do that,” Loki rasps, “it’s everything I ever dreamt of in this bed, I swear.” You flatten a curl of hair back from his forehead, rocking your hips back and forth. His hands slide up your waist, cupping your breasts as he pants beneath you. A vein in his neck throbs as he grits his teeth to the ceiling. He won’t last, not today. And that’s just fine.

You press his shoulders down, limiting his thrusts. If he wanted to, he could overthrow the touch in an instant. But he wont, not today; not in this bed. Every time you reach the tip of his cock you squeeze and his lips part; every time you sink him deep into your cunt they press together, like he doesn’t trust himself not to howl. The squelching is louder now. The moaning, too. You and Loki have fucked many times, in many places – in every conceivable position, each time you think you could never be more aroused, he proves you wrong. But something’s different about him here. When his beautiful eyes open, the dark fan of his lashes seem to pop against the vibrant blue ringing blown pupils.

Loki’s fingers sink deep into the plump of your ass. He pulls in time with your rhythm, drawing the flat of his feet up. In seconds, he sits up to meet your mouth; his tongue lapping against yours with quiet desperation. Your fingers run down his abdomen and you feel his stomach clench.

“Fill me, baby-” you whine into his open mouth, “show me what Asgard’s finest cock can give me.” Loki grunts in pleasured anguish, thrusting in erratic shudders as he erupts inside your heat. The angle is tight. Fresh seed creams at the seal of your slit and wells around the rim of his half-sheathed cock as he comes undone with a ragged exhale of your name. He captures you in a messy kiss, falling away from your mouth to your chest before collapsing back to the pillows. He squints with one eye, a lazy hand beckoning. “You sure?” There’s an unusual shyness in your voice. Loki nods with a wolfish, lopsided grin; drunk on sex. You shuffle up his abdomen, feeling a thick roll of hot cum settling against your inner thigh. Your fingers curl around the wooden headboard, Loki’s large palms settling on your ass and keeping you high. His head tilts, warm tongue tracing your inner thigh and sucking his seed from your skin. A violent shiver of desire rolls down your spine, making you thrust towards his face.

“I’ll try my best-” he purrs in character from between your legs.

His eyes are all you can see as his tongue outstretches. They disappear as he dips further back, running his warmth between your folds. He tilts his chin up, a white pool collected on his tongue. Loki of Asgard looks up from bottomless eyes, the planes of his cheekbones sharpened. You shoot down and jam your tongue into his open mouth. His cum swirls within the kiss, mingling with the earthy taste of your own pussy – swallows and moans and filth sliding down your throats. Loki gasps loudly as your kiss breaks with a slurp. “Was that in your fantasy?” you ask innocently, resuming your position above his head. “I regret now, that even in the depths of my teenage depravity, it was not,” Loki growled, squeezing your ass-cheeks. He nudges you closer. “Now, finish me,” he orders as he pushes you down against his face. The flat of Loki’s tongue meets your plump clit. Each flush and fat stripe of the muscle has no pretence – he intends to make you climax; and climax hard. Your nails dig into the headboard, scratching down pristine oak lined with gold. Images of Loki as a virginal youth rear in your mind, thrashing in these sheets, under this very ceiling, twisting and unravelling beneath the beat of his fist. Your thighs begin to tremble, held steady by his fingertips sinking deep into the curve of your ass. Loki’s tongue is relentless; it swirls and captures every flush of sparking orgasm and tends it with the next lap of his attentions. Before long, your legs tense – and somehow, one of your hands has tangled in his hairline, pushing him deeper, his nose slotted perfectly at the lip of your mound. The sight is all it takes. “Loki-” you choke, punctuated by a final devastatingly soft lick of his flat tongue over your sex. “Mmrph…” he grunts, brow furrowing. You hold your breath as climax shatters you, the exhale a strangled sob of his name that sings around the ceilings and tumbles out the archways.

You collapse on his chest, the two of you panting heavily. A thin sheen of fresh sweat clings to his skin. You trace the angle of his jaw, smiling as a dream-like peace descends on his features. “Do you think Thor heard?” “From Midgard? I doubt it,” Loki sighs, letting one of his legs fall open to the side. He’s hard again. “But I can let that part of the fantasy slide. Everything else was...perfection, my love.” You prop a fist beneath your chin. “Maybe we just need to try harder.”

“Fuck harder, you mean?” Loki says, a smirk curling the corners of his lips. “You did promise me a palace tour…” you say, drawing your knuckles up the velvet skin of his cock stretching against his stomach. Loki’s smirk grows wider.

Tags (continued in comments)

@meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @thevillainswhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki marvel #loki x you #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #lokismut #loki x you smut #loki imagine

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn s/o asking to kiss him on the lips?

Blade: finds it adorable. Absolutely adorable when you finally mustered up the courage to ask for what you want.

‘So you do have a voice?’ And or ‘the mouse has finally squeaked.’ Is what he would say with a smirk as he’d watch you get flustered and embarrassed under his gaze.

As much as he teases you for your shyness, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride for you when you took the first step in speaking your mind.

It was nice to know his lessons weren’t going to waste but then again Blade wasn’t one to hold your innate shyness against you, he just wants you to feel as though you could ask him anything without feeling bad about it.

He’s a dick but he’s instantly melting upon feeling your hands cup his face and is in utter bliss when you finally draw him in for a tender, warm kiss. It’s his one slice of heavenly reprieve that he never, ever wants to be deprived of, ever.

God forbid you stop after one kiss, this man will grow lowly and drag you back himself for more because how dare you tempt him with a mere peck, give him at least a hundred more for fuck sake.

Welt: praises you for your bravery in asking as he knows that it’s not exactly an easy thing to do when you’re naturally shy and prone to giving up before you even try.

‘I’d be more than willing to fulfil your wish to the best of my abilities.’

He’s such a gentleman who’s not afraid of going slow just for your comfort if he see you getting overwhelmed by the mere thought of having to take charge when kissing.

You did ask but Welt was more than ready to step in when it was all becoming too much and guides you through it with a soft, low voice and gentle reminders of hand placement and breathing.

He doesn’t want you passing out on him now.

And besides he’s not the type to do anything to you without your permission.

Sunday: raises his brows in amusement.

‘Oh? How bold of you to ask such a thing my dearest.’ Is his response.

It’s like a predatory watching his prey when it comes to Sunday that you were prone to reframe from speaking upon your desires because it always felt as though the Halovian could see through you. Literally.

It triggers your fight of flight response real quick but you have to remind yourself that you were safe with Sunday. (Or are you?)

He’s got that face that told you that he knew what you were going to ask him before you say anything. Whether or not it’s under unsettling is up to you.

He can obviously see that your nervous and stressed about the whole thing and will try to reassure you that neither of you were going anywhere and that you could take your time, he’ll be there whenever you felt comfortable.

He’s in no rush to be anywhere, not when you’re concerned.

Gallagher: originally thinks something is wrong when he saw you stood there unresponsive for a good few minutes, only to blurt out not even a second later, ‘can I kiss you on the lips?’

His worries fade and a smile graced his lips as he chuckled.

‘You almost had me worried there sweetheart but are you sure you want me to kiss you? What if I decide to bite?’ He’d say cheekily and never had he seen you look more flustered than anything. It’s too cute!

You’re giving this man too much power but also making him weak in the knees and want to kneel at your feet and pledge eternal loyalty to you at the same time.

However whatever you want, Gallagher will provide and if you wanted to give him a kiss, then who was he to say no to such a sweet ask?

‘Please.’ You’d add on and Gallagher could swear he melted right then and there. The magic word worked wonders in your favour as he has you sat on his lap, his big hands holding your waist steady as he waits patiently for his kiss, whsilt you felt your face burn all the way up to your ears.

However beware that one kiss becomes a million kisses with this guy as he loves the feel of your lips against his that sometimes he forgets that you both need oxygen to breathe.

Dan Heng: is equally as flustered and embarrassed as you when you asked.

His face is beat red and his eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he then looks away elsewhere and covers the lower half of his face with a hand. Curse you for being so fucking cute and polite!

He’s swears you’ll be the death of him but then again he’s not complaining.

‘Make it quick.’ He’d say but never in a mean way, he’s just genuinely about to combust if you don’t kiss him now and when you do give him a kiss so soft against his lips, you’ll have to shove his face into an ice bath or something with how unnaturally red it is.

You’re both awkward and new at this but that’s what makes every kiss you share afterwards so special and unique.

I wouldn’t put it past Dan Heng is he goes in for another kiss, he’s unabashedly become addicted to the taste of your lips.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade x you #blade imagines #blade imagine #welt yang x reader #welt Yang imagine #welt Yang imagines #sunday x reader #sunday x you #Sunday imagines #gallagher x you #gallagher x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #Dan heng imagine #Dan heng imsgines #blade x you #blade x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #Honkai star rail imagine #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fluff

[lymtw]

NSFW

Gojo x f!reader

Description:

Satoru and his tendencies of always keeping his hands on you. Even in public, he can't hold back from touching you, so you insist on getting the furthest table at restaurants.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On a date with Gojo, you always choose to sit at the furthest booth with the dimmest lighting because you know him too well.

“How was your day, baby? I missed you.” He’s right next to you, his hand is already settled on your knee. You know this time won’t be any different than the other times he has taken you out for dinner. Gojo just finds it so pretty the way you jump at the initial contact every time.

“It was fine. You weren’t around so it kind of minimized things that needed to get taken care of.”

He gasps, dramatically. “Wow, that was really something, babe. Did you sharpen your tongue even more for that one?”

You smirk, trying to hold back a laugh.

“I missed you too, though. How was your day?”

His fingers started out massaging your knee, but eventually his hand traveled higher up your leg as his mind began wandering to more sensual thoughts.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you. All I wanted was to come home to my pretty girl and take care of her for the rest of the day.”

You turn to him and smile, leaning in to peck his lips.

“Uh-uh. Come here,” he says when you pull away.

You were irresistible to Gojo. The only fault to you in his mind was that he never got enough of you. Every part of you could be touching him, and he still would feel like he needs more of you. He wants to breathe you in like oxygen, but never let out the breath so that you could stay within him.

“God, I can’t handle you, Satoru.” You say as you’re being suffocated by his lips. He’s kissing your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, but every time he nears your lips the kisses linger in that area.

“I need more of you. Please.”

You giggle at his darkened gaze. You know that look all too well, and it’s not anything to worry about when you’re in public. “You’re obsessed,” you joke.

“And what about it?” He whispers into your ear. His hand smoothly moves to the inside of your thigh, his thumb drawing short lines on your skin. “It’s too easy to love you like a normal person.”

“You love me~” You laugh. You’re making light of this because your heart is beating so fast you fear it might explode.

He scoffs. “Acting like you don’t know this.”

“Sometimes I think you just tolerate me. I don’t want to argue but, you could have anyone, right?”

“It’s not tolerance if i’m choosing to be with you, ma. Trust me,” he leans towards you, his nose brushing yours, “I could stay with you for an eternity. Talking, watching, touching, giving into every one of your pleasures.”

After all this time with Gojo, he still manages to make your heart race. You don’t know what’s gotten into him, but fuck…

“Tell me what you want.” His hand goes up one last time, reaching below your dress to touch the front of your panties. He knew the effect of his words, and yet he still challenged your ability to remain unfazed. You couldn’t, and now he knew by the wetness his fingers made contact with.

“Satoru… we shouldn’t.” You reach down, but not for his hand. You hold the bottom of your dress, your knuckles protruding with the grip.

“There’s no one else here,” he mumbles to you despite there being four full tables in sight. There’s a reason for why you always choose the furthest table, and this is that very reason.

You let out a shuddered breath, your toes curling in your heels.

His middle and ring fingers rub you through the thin material of your panties, gradually making the damp spot bigger.

“Who else is gonna do this for you? Hm?” He tilts his gaze towards you, watching the sweet expression on your face through lidded eyes.

“Satoru, please,” you moan, letting your dress fall over his hand again in favor of holding his bicep.

“I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”

“Okay, fine, fine. But we’re leaving after this.”

Gojo relishes on the breathiness of your voice when you talk.

“I might take my time, then. Just really want to build you up, pretty.”

“Fuck, Satoru. Come on.” You shut your thighs around his hand and start grinding against his fingers.

“I know, I know. You’ll just have to wait for it, baby, right?”

Your breathing quickens and your moans are more frequent. This is Gojo’s favorite part about making you feel good, but what happens when it all gets stripped away from you like this…

“I-I was gonna cum. Satoru, I-“

“And you looked so pretty, so I want you to do it all over again.”

#fanfic #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fic #jjk #jjk fic #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu sorcerer #gojo smut #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu smut

[highwayorgantrade]

Safe House

Pairing: Female Reader! X Soap

Request: Nooo

Summary: Oh no! A bunch of soldiers posted up in your farmhouse bed and breakfast?? Whatever shall you do!! Should you fuck them??

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Overstimulation, begging, volume (keep quiet), unprotected sex, cervix kissing 

Author's note: Okay listen y'all I did not plan on doing this whatsoever. I was in the middle of writing a Graves thing when I got this idea and I knew I just had to get that damn little brain worm out before it ruined my life further. This is gonna be a series!!!!!

The mission had gone wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong. 141 thought they were smart by teaming up with Los Vaqueros again to take down a trafficking ring - “Positive international relations,” Price had called it. “We even got imported muscle.” He grinned, referring to the 6’10” man they had called in, after hearing of his ability to do his job and keep his mouth shut.

 However, the ring had decided on the same tactic, bringing in a nearby cartel to defend their location. Quickly, way too quickly, the group was overwhelmed, frantically phoning in to Laswell for extraction.

“Don’t worry,” She sighed, after directing the seven men to a relatively safe area, the black-tinted SUV already flying gravel. “I have a friend.”

You had just so happened to be the friend. Well, the relative was more accurate, being her sister-in-law. You knew what she did for work, but you never thought she would call on you for help with it.

“Please, (Y/N), it’ll only be for a few days, I swear. A week, tops.” She called you early one November morning. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” And you knew she wouldn’t. The fact was simple: You had lived relatively nearby, and the bed and breakfast you operated and lived in certainly had the facilities to house eight people, and it so happened to be the off-season.

You were eager to accept, happy to help your sister, and it would be nice to have some muscle with the chores that needed done around the property. When the SUV pulled up, you quickly regretted your decision. You had expected a house full of military boys, tearing around like a pack of dogs, but out stepped six of the most attractive men you have ever seen, all completely different, but equally as handsome and rugged. Two were masked, but Christ, were they big anyway. As they loaded packs out of the van, you stepped into the grass, the cold air causing you to draw your cardigan tighter around yourself. When you approached, you kept a safe distance - partly because you didn’t know them, but also because you were afraid that if you got too close, you’d get lost in the intricacies of their faces.

“Hey!” You spoke finally, the rustling of the dying leaves nearly drowning you out. “I’m (Y/N), I hope the trip out wasn’t too awful!” You internally cringed at yourself for giving them the usual spiel you reserved for guests, but continued anyway. “Come on in, all the rooms are pretty much the same, but you can pick, so… that’s something.”

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” One of them finally spoke, casting a friendly grin your way, and you turned quickly to hide the burning on your cheeks. 

You were proud of the way your property looked, hidden well off the road in a small forested area, the whole thing had kind of an eclectic feel to it, but you still felt kind of strange leading them into the common area. 

“Okay!” You clasped your hands together, and tried to remember that you were only a housing opportunity - they had more important things to focus on. “Well, uh, I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, but you might see me flitting about here and there. What’s mine is yours.” Some nodded their thanks, others were making quick work of checking their bags for God knows what, and one, the one in a skull mask, merely stared down at you, his large arms crossed on his chest.

Okay… You took that as your cue to leave, and you quickly stepped out the back door, hoping to make progress on your chores before the sun set.

The frigid air felt nearly unbearable compared to how hot you were burning in their presence - you didn’t even realize that you were slightly sweating. With a sigh, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities. Repaint the gazebo, refill and hang the bird feeders, and fix the greenery so everything is in full bloom by summer. Leaves crunched under your step as the half-painted gazebo came into view. You could hear voices coming from your house, a few with different accents, mostly British, but you could pick out a Scottish, a vaguely German, and a couple Spanish lilts. A booming laugh echoed, and you relaxed your tense shoulders at the sound. 

“Don’t make me regret this, Kate.” You mumbled as you settled into the grass and popped open a paint can.

She was pretty. It was the first thing Soap had noticed. It looked like she belonged here, in the woods, with the wind blowing her hair and birds singing in her presence. No doubt she kept them well-fed. He had barely listened when she spoke - he was much too focused on how her sweater wrapped tightly around her body, or how her eyes seemed to physically sparkle with curiosity. She had said something, Soap had no idea, but he responded anyway. Something about the drive? The rooms?

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” He answered, stabbing that it was an appropriate response. The way she averted her eyes and a hint of a smile played at the edges of her lips told him that he was successful. When she turned around to lead them into the safehouse, Price gave him a nudge and shook his head ‘no.’ No fucking Kate’s pretty little sister? Might as well ask him to walk on fucking water, next. 

She had promised to make herself scarce, and Soap was silently thankful. He didn’t want this woman caught up in what they were doing, and he didn’t want her to know something that could get her in trouble - Laswell would never forgive them. When she left, Alejandro was the first to speak.

“Nobody talk to me about this mission tonight.” He grumbled, and Soap recognized that as a request long ago, based on the way his jaw was clenched nearly the entire drive to the location, muttering what Soap assumed to be expletives every so often. He trudged up the stairs with his bag, Rudy trailing not far behind. 

“Right, then.” Ghost spoke, rolling his shoulders and pulling out a map of the enemy facility and laying it on the wood table, and Soap nearly laughed at how out of place it looked. “If they’ve gotten support from that gang, it eliminates them from support from anyone else, and makes them a target to others, not just us.”

“We need to get to them first.” Konig’s hand landed on the map, gesturing vaguely at an entrance. “This was lightly guarded.” Soap stared at the location, before his eyes flitted out the window to see you approaching a gazebo outside, and he itched to get this out of the way.

“Aye, they might reinforce that entrance since they know it’s weak now. Leaves somewhere else open to vulnerability.” Soap strategized, his eyes lingering on how your hands ran through your hair, and JESUS, how did it still look perfect after that? A light thump on the back of his head pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to see Gaz with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. 

“No-go, mate. Red zone. Laswell would have your head on a stick.”

“Might be worth it.” Ghost chimed in, following his gaze to the woman.

Price pointed a warning finger to Ghost, his face stony.

“Ghost, stop instigating. Gaz, leave Soap alone. Konig…” He took a breath, considering the man had nothing to do with their antics. “Good job. Soap, I wish I had control over who a soldier decides to sleep with, but I don’t.”

“That girl in Ibiza left a bad taste in your mouth, Cap?” Soap retorted, recalling one of his more infamous hook-ups, and Price laughed loudly.

“Lesson for the inexperienced,” Ghost turned to Konig. “Remember your date’s name or she will throw a knife at you.” Konig shook his head at this, and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to call it a day.

“Sounds like my kind of woman.”

Soap had already tuned the ribbing out, and when Ghost packed up the plans, he was already tracing your path, walking out the back door to meet you.

A rustling of leaves caused your head to perk up, and you turned to see the one who had spoken to you earlier, a small smile on his face.

“Need any help?” He tilted his head at the gazebo. “More hands make less work ‘n all.” You looked back at your work, having made minimal progress since you began. 

“Oh! Yeah, sure. If you want.” You responded, pulling the paint tray out in front of you so he could take the spare paintbrush. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“I’m Johnny. Most of the guys call me Soap, though.”

Soap? The nickname seemed to come out of nowhere, and you crinkled your nose at this.

“Why do they call you that? You shower more than everyone else or something?” He laughed at this, reaching up to cover the underside of a railing in white paint, and you fought to keep your eyes from lingering on his arms.

“Good at cleaning house, love.” Soap corrected you, your lips pursing at the nickname. “How long have you had this place?”

You shrugged, simply happy that he was making conversation with you.

“Coupl’a years. Since I was twenty. Bought it as a dump and flipped it.” He makes a noise of approval and takes a deep breath. 

“Your, uh, boyfriend live here with you, does he?” At this, you can’t help but allow a laugh to tear through you, both in recognition of what Soap was doing, and out of pure shock that he was doing it.

“Not sure where my boyfriend lives, I haven’t met him yet. Let me know if you find him, though, yeah?” Soap shook his head.

“I don’t think I will, but thank you for the offer.”

The back and forth with Soap left your head reeling, and you considered your options as you painted in silence. Kate would kill you if she found out, but she doesn’t need to find out. It has been terribly long since you’ve even been on a date, or even had sex for that matter, and Soap certainly isn’t the worst looking man in the world. He clearly had a great body, and you delved down the rabbit hole of how his arms would look pinning your arms above your head, his battle-worn dog tag trailing cold electricity down your chest.

A flash of yellow light pulled you out of your musings, and a firefly landed on your knee. You took a deep breath and turned to Soap, his attention garnered by your sudden movement of waving the small bug away.

“Do you wanna have a drink tonight? With me?” Your face was comically serious, and Soap let out a soft chuckle as he replaced the lid on the paint, taking the brush from your hand.

“Aye.” He stood, sighing a bit at the noise his knees made, and handed you the paint tray.

“I’ll, uh, go put this up and meet you inside.” You offered him a small smile, and his head tilted at you, trying to hide his own.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Soap had to stop himself from running back into the house. Giddiness coursed through him, and he burst through the door to see Gaz, Ghost, and Konig sat in various places around the living room, the TV tuned in to the local news.

“Get the fuck out.” He stated simply, his eyes wide and a dumb grin on his face.

“Pardon?” Ghost barely spared him a glance, and Konig automatically stood, silently confused as to where he was supposed to go. Gaz merely stared up at him.

“I said,” Soap wrapped his hand around Ghost’s bicep and pulled, forcing the man to stand, and Gaz followed. “Get the fuck out.”

“You sendin’ us to bed, then, eh?”

Soap picked up Ghost’s bag for him, and shoved it into his chest, nearly pushing the men up the stairs.

“I am.” He turned to Gaz, his mouth already open to protest, and pointed a finger in his face. “If you fuck this up for me, I will end you.” 

The second the three men shut the door to their respective rooms, you stepped back into the house, locking the backdoor behind you.

I raised an eyebrow at the television, and grinned at Soap.

“Did you turn on the news?” I ask, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine from cabinets, pouring us both a fairly full glass.

“Yeah, it’s a new form of foreplay.” He laughed, taking a sip. “Learnin’ that we world is shite.” 

“Oh, so foreplay is important to you?” And that question was your first step. He glanced at you from across the kitchen island, and you could just see the gears in his mind turning, figuring out the best way to get himself into your bed. Honestly, he could have asked to bend you dead over the kitchen counter, his large hand pulling your hair as leverage as he thrusted into you from behind.

But your imagination always runs wild.

“Mm. ‘S very important.” You cocked your head at his answer, and he shrugged. “I prefer to have a girl simply beggin’ before I even think of finishing.” He took a step around the island, not quite in front of you, but leaning on the side. You sipped your wine again, trying to cover your reaction to his answer, but there was no wine glass big enough to cover how you pressed your legs together, one hand gripping the counter with slightly more force than necessary.

“How do you do that?” It was an effort to keep your tone even , trying not to show how badly he was affecting you.

“Eh.” He set his wine glass down, finger lightly circling the base of the stem. “Usually have ‘em coming a few times before I get my own.”

Holy fuck. You needed Soap, and you needed him bad.

“Ah, so only good reviews then?” Damnit, why is your voice suddenly higher? You cleared your throat to try to get it to return to normal, and the fucking bastard smirked at you.

“So far. Tell me, love.” That damn nickname again. “When was the last time you were fucked?” You opened your mouth to answer, but it didn’t matter as Soap began talking again. “Ah, lemme revise that. When was the last time you were properly fucked? The last time someone had you cryin’, had you just stupid on their cock?”

You were buzzing, shaking slightly at Soap’s vulgar words. His accent got lower, rougher as he spoke, and you could feel your arousal tying a knot in your throat.He simply stared at you, waiting for your answer with a dumb smile on his face, like he already knew.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me…” He began, in mock sympathy. “Never?” You shook your head at him, not wanting to tell him the truth.

In all reality, you’ve never orgasmed with someone else. It was all only you, and you learned quickly not to say this, as all men would try to be the first. Then you’d end the night by lying, and they would go with their egos inflated.

You both stood, the tension in the kitchen more than you could bear, and just as you were about to dismiss yourself for the night, Soap wrapped a hand around your forearm - Not tightly enough to worry you, but just enough so you looked up at him, your faces inches from each other.

“Love, I don’t like to, uh, think I’m all that, y’know?” He cleared his throat. “But I’d like to try. Show some thanks to our host.”

In one last attempt at quieting down your own perverse thoughts, you set your wine glass down, and looked at the floor.

“Ah, you don’t need to thank me Soap.”

“I absolutely do,” He responded immediately. “I really do need to. Nothin’ better than a pretty face while I work.”

You bite the inside of your lip, considering all the ways this could go bad. Every single one was overrun with the way Soap was searching your eyes, silently pleading for you. With a purse of your lips, you poured the rest of your wine down the sink, and smiled.

“Absolutely.”

You barely got the words out before Soap wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way up the stairs, searching for any room that didn’t look like it was already occupied.

“Mine’s on the other end.” You breathed in an effort not to laugh at his eagerness, and he turned on his heels toward a door that was differently painted than the rest. He placed a hand over your head, protecting you from a bump as he ducked through the doorframe, and less-than-gently set you on your bed, locking the door behind him.

When he turned, you didn’t see the sweet man offering to help you with painting, you saw a soldier. A soldier tuned into your every breath, every movement, and every thought. He kneeled in front of the bed, between your legs, and began planting lighter than air kisses on your ankle, untying your shoes and setting them to the side haphazardly.

“Red means stop.” He whispered against your skin, traveling upward to your knee. “Yellow is slow down, green is good. Repeat it.”

“Red is-“ You were cut off by your own gasp as he delivered a light bite to the inside of your thigh before kissing it again, and you could feel him smile against you. “Red is stop. Yellow is slow. Green is good.”

“And where are we now?” He breathed against the spot right where your thigh met your most sensitive area, and you felt your stomach jump.

“Green. So, so green.” A whimper escaped you, and Soap tsked, like he was about to scold you.

“Stay quiet, lass.” Teased Soap, as he slid your shorts down, along with your underwear, and he whistled lowly. “A Chriosd ann an ifrinn, seall ort, a nighean bhòidheach.” And with that, he licked one long, thick strip up your cunt, dipping down to tease your hole with his tongue. Soap was eating you out like a man starved, and you were obsessed. 

Light, breathy moans left you, ever so aware of how quiet everything else was. 

“Tell me what feels good, love.” He punctuated his command with a nip to your thigh, pulling your mind out of the pleasure-induced haze. His tongue traveled through your folds, eyes trained on you to see your reaction to his ministrations. Soap’s lips wrap around your clit, fingers toying with your soaking entrance, and it felt like all rational thought had left you. You didn’t care about who exactly was between your legs, nor if his team could hear your desperate mewls.

The pressure inside you was building, and your movement was strange - trying to wriggle away from the incessant barrage against your clit, and trying to grind impossibly closer to Soap’s lips, and by his huff, it was clear he had enough of that. One large arm wrapped around a thigh, his other pressing down on your abdomen, and the only noise Soap could muster was a few low groans as he continued devouring you.

The knot inside you was getting tighter and tighter, and it felt like it was going to snap any second. A split moment of panic ran through you as your back arched off the bed, Begs and cries tumbling out of your lips before you could think of them.

“Soap, please, please.” You cried, hands aching from gripping the sheets. “Please don’t stop, please…” Staying true to your direction, Soap was unrelenting against you, the combination of his sucking, biting, and licking at your clit had dizzy spots appearing in your vision. With one hard push on your abdomen, and a particularly slow drag of his tongue at your entrance, you felt that snap, and you finally understood why it was called the Little Death.

Your mind had gone completely blank, mouth open in a silent scream, and your thighs clamped around either side of Soap’s head, where he still had yet to stop drinking you. It felt like your heart had even stopped beating, until the pounding was heard in your ears. As Soap continued, you felt your body lurch upwards, fingers tangling in Soap’s hair until he finally looked up at you, his hand coming back to slide a finger into you.The sudden intrusion forced a gasp from you, and he gently kissed your thigh, where you noticed the ache that predates a bruise.

“How we doin’, love? We okay?” His voice was impossibly sweet, a complete 180 to how he just made you feel. You nodded, despite feeling like every single sense in your body had been blown out. His finger continued sliding in and out of you, your walls pulsing around him.

“Green.” You confirmed breathily, and he smiled a wolfish grin before adding a second digit into you, his pace quickening. A quick flash of aggravation and desperation coursed through you, and you knew how to get exactly what you wanted. 

You looked down at him, eyebrows upturned in a pleading look, and your doe-eyes were working overtime. 

“Please, Soap, just fuck me.” You said, voice higher and more gentle than you thought it would come out, and he groaned, rolling his head against your leg. His fingers took on a ‘come here’ motion, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the feeling.

“Ah, I know what you want. You want these…” Soap planted a kiss on your thighs, interrupting his own speech. “God, these pretty thighs pinned behind your head, taking me so well, takin’ me so good.” He looked absolutely pussydrunk, his eyes darting between your eyes and his fingers, tsking and offering a slight noise of false sympathy when a tear rolled down your cheek. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, and you could feel that fire building inside of you again. “Christ, love, you wanna come again, huh?” You nodded furiously at his question, one hand coming up to absentmindedly play with your tits. A bright look crossed Soap’s face, and while his hands continued, his mouth met your hands.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, and before you could think, he bit down - the orgasm that crashed through you was stronger than the last, and the muscles in your thighs screamed from being clenched so tightly. You felt his fingers work their way out of your pussy, hissing at the feeling of your walls clenching around nothing.

“You want me to fuck you now, pretty thing?” His face was almost smug as he climbed up on the bed, one hand going to your lower back to effortlessly raise you, and he peppered light kisses on your sweat-covered face. Of course you want him, how could you not? Your body was buzzing with the aftershocks of two orgasms, and here he was, lining himself up with you.

“God, yes, please.” You breathed, hands coming to rest on his back. Soap brought his lips down next to your ear, sending another shock straight to your core.

“Beg better.” He punctuated his command by rubbing his cock through your folds, and you twitched when the head ground against your already sensitive clit. Beg better? Fuck you, Soap. 

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you and, hopefully, how serious you looked.

“Fuck me, Soap. Now.” 

The simple instruction was all it took for him to push inside you, and it was like it activated something in him - Soap simply could not shut up.

“Ach, mo Dhia, tha thu a 'faireachdainn cho foirfe timcheall orm. So perfect.” He planted a kiss to your temple. “So perfect, my pretty girl.” 

You brought your lips up to his neck, kissing the curve where it meets his shoulder, and his babbling only continued as his cock dragged against nearly every nerve, your broken moans echoing through your room. God, his slow pace was nearly agonizing, you wanted more, you needed more. It was like Soap read your mind as he paused, hooking your knees above his shoulders, effectively pinning you into the mattress. He flashed you a wicked grin before he began his jackhammer pace, and this new position had him reaching impossibly deep inside you.

A vague, low ache began in your abdomen every time he bottomed out, his head kissing your cervix every single time. The depth combined with his pace, his groaning and endless praise in your ear - it felt like it was all culminating in a perfect storm, one that was threatening to break down every fibre of your being.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going to-” You interrupted yourself with a low, hoarse groan, your admission only spurring him on as he replaced his hold on your knees with his hands.

“Look at me, love, I wanna see it, I wanna see you.” His stuttering hips told you he was in the same spot as you, and you both were not going to last much longer. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He growled, and that was all it took for you.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as you released around him, and your ending brought his own on. Curses left him lips as he buried himself inside you, collapsing next to you.

“Ach, come ‘ere.” He breathed, reaching his arm out to hook around your waist and pulling you to him, one leg wrapping around his waist. One hand rested on your jaw, planting kisses on your forehead, cheek, anywhere he could get access to. Your body felt numb, and you knew he stayed true to his word - you were fucked absolutely stupid. You wanted to talk, you wanted to ask where this left you? Would you ignore that this happened? Would it recur? Would he tell his team about it? You wanted to ask, and yet you didn’t - The song of crickets and his heartbeat was a lullaby, and one that you couldn’t fight.

The snare of sleep overtook you as your heart rate evened out, and only one thought was on your mind before you gave up the fight for consciousness:

You really fucking hope you don’t regret this.

#mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod x reader

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

ℭ𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡!𝔗𝔬𝔧𝔦 𝔵 ℭ𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔘𝔰𝔢𝔯!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Summary: When Toji is contracted to kill you, he doesn't expect this to be how the situation turns out. He really should have read your file before the hunt...

Warnings: gratuitous smut, no real plot, porn without plot, toji is whipped for reader, mentions of murder, toji is contracted to kill reader.

A/N: In the words of the great poetess Megan Thee Stallion, "Men are objects to me."

Thank you to @ominouslywritinginmyhead for doing such a quick job of proofing this.

As always likes and reblogs are appreciated 🩷

Toji couldn’t remember how many times he had come close to the edge only to be harshly pulled back from it again. 

He had been chased by a curse while trying to hunt you down. A curse that zapped him of his strength and rendered him unable to move. Unable to use his weapons to, not only defend himself but also to attack and kill you. 

You, more beautiful than he’d expected – the pictures shown to him didn’t do you justice. You, more dangerous than he’d expected – the file he hadn’t read about you not properly disclosing your abilities. You. 

Now you sat above him, skirt bunched around your waist, pumping your swollen pussy onto him, over and over as he pleaded and whimpered.

“Please doll, don’t. Please let me come this time…Fuck–” 

But all you did was smirk at him and continue, slowly drawing out each movement, each slow thrust. 

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to do whatever I liked with you, Toji?” you quipped back. 

Toji felt lost. You had both his arms pinned above his head with just one of yours. Your cursed technique that had made him kneel in front of you and beg for his life hadn’t done this. No, this was all you. Your scent, your eyes, your gorgeous body. Toji felt like he had never seen a woman so alluring. And here you were, on top of him. Doing exactly what he’d begged you to. 

Your full plump lips parted and he watched as they formed words that he couldn’t understand, his ears instead, filled with the sound of his rushing blood. “You promise, right? You won't come after me again if I let you finish?” 

“Fuck—please doll, I need you…” 

But you pouted and stilled your hips. “I need to hear you, Toji...I need you to promise.” Toji desperately bucked his hips up, trying to create any stimulation that would help him reach his climax, but you were too strong, slamming him down with your own thrust. “Promise me, Toji.” 

“Fuck, woman – you’re killing me.” But all the man could do was moan under you, tiny tears squeezing out of his closed eyes. Your small hands pinned him down with ease. You kissed his forehead, deliberately pushing your breasts into his face and driving him wild. 

“Tojiiii…” You drawled. “I’m not fucking you properly until you promise me…” As if to make your point, you leaned forward on his chest, just about rubbing your clit against the base of his dick. 

Toji could have cried. His arms didn’t work anymore, so no matter how much he wanted to lift you and slam you onto his cock, he couldn’t. His legs felt so wobbly that even if he wanted to pin you against a wall and take you like a virgin, he was convinced they would give out. “Fuck you, demon woman! Fine. I promise…I’m not going to kill you! I don’t care how much they offer me, just please help me cum!” 

Your pussy was wet and weeping now. The stimulation from just rubbing your clit against him had done wonders for you. You raised your torso off him with a giggle and said, “See, now that wasn’t so hard!” Toji could only grunt in reply before you pumped his cock, pussy holding him in a vice-like grip despite the ample lubrication dripping from it. 

“’M gonna come, doll,” he groaned, hips thrusting up to meet yours in a wet slap. 

Your hand cupped his cheek. “I think I’m close too. Will you come with me, Toji?”  He nodded. “Fuck– just a little more, Toji… Good boy. Fuck– come with me!”

“Shit, baby, I’m coming. Fuck, take my cock like that-god.” His release painted your insides as he came with a cry. You collapsed onto his torso, the two of you slowly riding out your highs, both coming down gently, feather-like. 

When you looked up, Toji was smiling at you half dazed. His chest lifted you with each deep breath. You quickly pulled yourself off him, leaving a little kiss on the scar at the edge of his mouth. Your panties were ruined…he’d torn them apart when he’d initially thrust into you, so you smoothened out your skirt and turned to him – still lying on the forest floor where you had first caught him – and said, “Well, I’ll be off then! See you around Toji – or better yet, not!”

“Wait!” he yelled, “At least undo the fucking curse you put on me, you minx! I can’t move!” 

“Oh, that?” You giggled, “The effects of my curse only last for about five minutes, Toji.”

AN: I just wanna make mean man cry ok. :)

#jjk #fanfiction #anonimuswritings #anonimusunnoan #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji zenin #toji x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen toji

[sukibenders]

consolation

FEATURING: percy jackson x reader

summary: y/n has been cooped up in their cabin for days, only leaving to attend breakfast and lunch at their siblings' insistence. it's not that they mean to, it's just that their art is doing anything but coming together as of late and it's making them doubt their abilities. good thing for them that their fantastic boyfriend is there to save the day!

contents: soft!percy, cute couple moments, possibly some angst in regards to self doubt but mainly fluff in the end, references to passing of time, worried!percy, gn!reader, no stated cabin or godly parent but mentions of siblings, percy referring to you as 'babe'

note" this is my first actual piece of written work on here, and it seemed fitting that it would be pjo related. I'm so nervous about it, so please be kind and give this some love! it's stated that the reader is in an art slump, and that's for the sake of the plot behind this so sorry to all those who aren't interested in the arts or things like that!

You would say that it wasn't a normal occurrence for you to compare yourself to others to anyone who asked, but you yourself knew that that simply wasn't true and, in this moment, were being proved wrong as you stared at the messy array of art supplies circling around you--from crumbled papers of failed sketches to messy rags layered with dried paint. While the mess was contained to your side of your cabin, you were sure that your siblings cautious of just how long that would last.

Your appearance faired no better. Your camp shirt was littered is paint marks from sloppy movements of your hands, the orange holding more life to it than the fresh canvas in front of you. Three had laid crestfallen along the floor, thrown down carelessly during fits of frustration after another failed attempt tallied in your mind. Just when you thought things where going to go smoothly, fate had other plans and took another direction. Maybe this was a sign of the Gods punishing you, but for what? You couldn't figure out.

The more you stared at the blank canvas, at the mess around you, the more dishearted you felt. Your mind wandered to a group of kids that you had seen at the arts and crafts center last week, some Apollo campers you had assumed, albeit bitterly, when your eyes fell on their stunning art pieces making it hard for you to look away. They were so beautiful and held your attention longer than you'd hope to admit outloud. You had desired to master a similar affect with your own piece. That did not seem likely.

"But they did it so perfectly," you muttered to yourself (more like growled), hands gripping your paint brush tightly to the point where you were sure that the wood would snap under the force. "I'm sure they didn't have to go through all this." Your brows furrowed and you were just about to give up when a familiar voice spoke up.

"Man, it looks like a hurricane rolled through here." You looked up and were met with a pair of sea green eyes, of which held a mirth to them that only increased tenfold when they landed on you. "Maybe I should take you to seek shelter, just to be safe."

This caused you to snort. "Haha, very funny. I know that, if ever in a hurricane, to simply call out your name and you'll be there to save me, won't you?"

"Always!" A toothy grin broke out over Percy's face and it was almost enough to draw you back from your creativity haze. But when your eyes drew back to the blank canvas, the sense of dismay returned. Subconsciously, your shoulders sagged in response, but you were none the wiser. Percy, however, being the attentive boyfriend that he was, took notice. "I take it things aren't going as planned?"

You shook your head. "That's an understatement. This is my third attempt so far, and I can't even put paint to the material. At least with the others I could say that."

Percy shifted forward, reaching for one of the lone canvases and studied it with interest. "This one is nice," he said honestly. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because it's bad." You answered simply.

But Percy didn't believe that. "No it's not, you're just being hard on yourself." Like always hung in the air, but it was moreso a thought of your own rather than Percy's himself. The inky haired boy gave you a brief once over, brows furrowed with tinges of worry. "When was the last time you took a break? Stepped outside for something other than going to the dining pavilion?"

You blinked for a moment, attention slightly divided between your boyfriend and the work before you. "Uh, I think it was like...yesterday, one of my siblings dragged me out to the strawberry field with them." Or, at least you thought it was yesterday.

But Percy shook his head. "That was Tuesday, babe, I asked one of your siblings. Today's Friday. We need to get you out of this cabin, doing something other than painting."

Slightly shocked by clarification, you body tensed at the thought of being pulled away from your workstation, especially so prematurely into your journey. If you stopped now, what was to say that you would ever finish? Or that this was possibly your last chance at recreating and if you left now, all that went down the drain.

"I can't." You sighed weakly, hurriedly drifting your eyes to your boyfriend, who you had just discovered, that you hadn't spent much time with at all during this week. "If I don't get this piece right now, I might never-"

Percy raised a brow in response of you cutting yourself off. "You might never what?"

With a frustrated and embarrassed sigh, you explained to him your dilemma and the set backs it had provided you, refraining from looking at him the whole time. A part of you had fear some sort of mockery or lack of understanding that conjured up a simple dismissal without actually helping. You had grown accustomed to that after a few occasions and, while you didn't believe Percy to be like, it still hovered in your mind.

To your surprise, though not really, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you so gently yet fiercely that you felted tethered and set free all the same. Your face subconsciously pressed into Percy's bicep and you inhaled his scent, feeling the burdens of the weight you had placed on yourself slowly slipping away one by one. Faint tears welled in your eyes, but he made no move to comment on them.

"I wished you'd came to me sooner, I could've helped you. While not with anything art related, because it would have ended poorly for the both of us, I could have been here to keep you company and show some support."

A small sound that was a mix between a cry and laugh bubbled from your throat. "I don't think I would have been much fun."

Percy snorted. "Please, we would've had the time of our lives here. You're siblings would have kicked me out and banished me from ever entering." While this drew another laugh from you, it wasn't hard to notice the seriousness enveloping the boy's tone. "I think you need a break, for real this time and with no objections."

"But-"

"This piece, can wait. You can't. So what if some other camper made a cool piece, that doesn't mean anything. It especially doesn't mean you're a bad artist just because you're having trouble recreating it." When you fell silent at his words, he rested his nose against your temple, breathing you in. "You're very talented, and that shouldn't be doubted."

A part of you wanted to argue, to say that he was only telling you that because you were dating, but the more you thought about doing anything other than laying in your boyfriend's arms, the more exhausted you felt. Maybe it was your sudden drop in weight, but Percy had maneuvered you around until you were far from the canvas that had been torturing you for hours and closer to your bed.

"Let's get you some rest, babe." He moved to lay you down when your hand reached out, stopping him. "Babe-"

"I got paint on your shirt." You said simply, eyeing how your, still paint riddled, fingers smeared over your boyfriend's tee from his abs to his side. You had been so wrapped up in savoring his embrace, that you had forgotten about your own mess clinging to your frame.

Rather than wallow in the new stain, Percy reached for a damp, less paint splattered cloth and held it to your face. "It's no big deal, but it will be if you get paint on your sheets. Let's get you cleaned up."

By the time he was finished, you were already dozing off no matter how much you tried to fight. Your body rocked and swayed softly, and the action only made Percy laugh even more. Resting you gently on to your bed, head braced against your pillow, the inky haired boy moved to stand when your hand latched around his wrist.

"Stay," You whispered, eyes hopefully. Even with how busy you made yourself, you had missed him deeply.

"I gotta clean up around here. Wouldn't want you to trip in this mess, now would you?"

This caused you to wave him off. "Ah, well you'll simply just have to take care of me again, which seems like a win if you think about it."

Percy chuckled. "Yeah, it does. And maybe I'm so inclined to be against it." He patted your side. "Move over, babe, I'm coming in."

You cheered softly, doing as told just enough for him to rest his frame an inch away from you before you practically melted into him, arms wrapped around his waist and face tucked under his chin. You could feel Percy's chest rumble in satisfaction before he followed a similar manner. The two of you laid like that for a few minutes before you whispered.

"I'm sorry for not spending time with you these last few days." You apologized. "I was just...so wrapped up in this project and my own thoughts that I lost track of time. It's no excuse, but-"

"It's all right," Percy cut in, shushing you softly as you tried to protest. He was in no mood for you to get worked up, especially over something that was so easily fixed and could be settled even further once you were rested. "I understand, and I'm not uupset. I missed you, for sure, but we'll find a way to spend time together later, once you've had a decent amount of sleep."

You nodded in agreement, a yawn pulling from your lips. "I propose a date, anywhere you'd like and we can do whatever you want. You deserve it."

"I don't think taking care of my partner necessarily guarantees a reward," Percy commented, watching with mirth as you sent an eye roll his way. "But I'll hold you to that deal later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

#percy jackson #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #x reader #percy jackson x black!reader #percy jackson x poc!reader #[🪐] - lunars writes

[st-danger]

sexy sexy filthy dirty nasty sexy words

Copia draws his gloved hand down Dew's cheek, slow and kind, delighting in the way Dew tilts his head into the touch. Looking up at him through dark lashes framing amber eyes, kneeling before him. Tight pants stretched tighter on his thighs from how he sits, helmet discarded to his side, set carefully down. For the aggression he can take out on his Stratocaster on stage, Dewdrop is remarkably gentle with everything around him, material goods and living things alike.

"Papa," Dew murmurs, and Copia feels a tremor move through him; there's a particular voice Dewdrop uses when he wants something. Silky and dark and slow. A drawl. It's what he's using now, and he hasn't the ability to deny him anything. And if Dewdrop is about to angle for a little action, backstage and hurried with Copia in his papal robes- well. It'd be sinful, of course. And it would be wrong to not take advantage of that, right?

It wouldn't do to take the virtuous path. As a follower of the Dark Lord, of course. Copia draws a breath, rubbing his thumb along a sharp cheekbone, and then down to his mouth, where he brushes it over Dew's bottom lip.

A forked tongue darts out to lick the leather.

"Are you, um." Copia tries to collect himself. He is sure he feels the heat from his mouth through the glove, as though nothing was in the way. The intensity with which all of his band ghouls approach him with, the weight of their attention, it makes him woozy. Tongue-tied. Perhaps a little stupid. None of them seem to mind; he's seen firsthand the way they lose themselves in pleasure when they're with him. And with each other, he imagines, but he's never sat back and played spectator before. They've never let him.

"Are you going to suck me?" Copia asks. Dew smiles, but barely.

"Is that what you'd like?"

"Open your mouth," Copia says, and without hesitation, Dew lets his jaw fall open, sticks out his tongue so Copia can look. Imagine. Get an idea of what he gets to look at if he chooses to cum on his face instead of asking him to swallow. "I could...feed you communion." Dew huffs out a laugh, pleased. Dips a hand under the robes and gives Copia's calf a tender squeeze.

"Is that what we're calling it?"

"Was that too stupid?" Self-conscious. The hand rubs his leg, reassuring.

"Nah, it's hot," Dew says. His hand slides higher, up his thigh, higher still, and then he's cupping Copia where he's growing fat from excitement. "Always wanted to eat the body of Christ."

It's Copia's turn to laugh a little, aroused and pleased at the statement.

"Is that how you see me?"

"You're not a god," Dew concedes, grabbing the hem of his robe and ducking under it, popping the buttons of his pants, pulling down the zipper agonizingly slowly. Better they do it this way, Copia thinks dimly. If he has to watch Dew's lips stretch around him he isn't sure he'd last long enough to really enjoy it. "You're also not a holy man," he continues. He's pulling out his half-hard cock warm fingers brushing his shaft, pulling a shiver from him. "But I'll worship you like one, if you want."

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #dew ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #sodo ghoul #copia #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus #cardinal copia #copia/dew #copia/dewdrop #copia/sodo #copia x dew #copia x dewdrop #copia x sodo #nameless ghouls

[venturelovebot]

A/N: Protective!Venture b r a i n r o t

Premise: Insecure!Artist!reader (GN) gets bullied... but luckily their crush doesn't let anybody walk on them!

Warnings: Bullying and inanimate object harm. Other than that, it's safe!

You click the save button on your artwork before submitting it to your professor for your weekly homework. This weeks prompt was to draw an object that brings you happiness, so of course you had to choose your favorite stuffie. You didn't like to admit it to others but you loved collecting stuffed animals. They didn't judge you. All they ever had to give was love. That's why you loved them so much.

You reach out for your stuffie and give them a quick hug. Stroking its soft fur gave you a deep sense of comfort whenever you needed it the most. If you couldn't get to Sloane or Illari for any reason then your stuffie was definitely the best third option. They were there for you through thick and thin, you really couldn't ask for a more loyal companion.

"Hm. [Stuffie Name], where would I be without you?" You smile down at your fuzzy friend. Its pitch dark button eyes stare back at you with content.

"Are... are they talking to a stuffed animal?" You hear a voice nearby stifle a laugh.

"At their age? That's so cringe..." Another one chimed in.

You quickly put your friend into your bag before anyone else can see. A feeling of shame pulses through your body and tears begin to form behind your eyes. You hurry to gather your things to make a swift escape. As soon as you stand up to leave you feel a hand reach into your bag and snatch your stuffie from you.

"Hey look everyone, [Y/N] still talks to their stupid stuffed animal! What are you, five?"

The bully throws your stuffie to the ground and stomps on it.

"No! Please, stop!" You beg, rushing over to check on them.

Their fur was a little scuffed but there wasn't any serious damage inflicted. The bully simply laughs and snatches it from you again.

"Why do you care so much? Do you ever wonder why you'll never get a date?" They tease. They grab nearby pair of scissors sitting on the table and they hold the blade up to your stuffies neck.

One of the people talking about you earlier begins filming your anguish on their phone. You feel utterly helpless as tears spill down your cheeks. A crowd has now formed around you and the bully.

"It's just a dumb toy! I'm doing you a favor."

Before you can protest the bully digs the scissors into your stuffed friend and slices the fabric open. Stuffing spills out to the floor and you scream in horror. Your stuffie's flattened body flops sadly to your feet as one of the bystanders comes up to film your reaction. You fall to your knees and scoop up their battered body and hug it close.

"[Stuffie Name]..." Your tears continue overflowing. "Oh my God..."

"What a sad, pathetic human being you are!" You hear your friend Illari speak up after shoving her way through the crowd. "Leave Y/N alone right now! Or else..."

"Or else what? You're gonna beat me up?" The bully laughs.

"No." Illari says. "But they will."

Before the bully had time to speak again, Sloane connects their fist to the bullies temple and instantly they fall to the ground in a state of shock. People gasp and start to scatter in fear for their own safety. The two other bullies quickly stop recording and disappear into the crowd like cowards.

Illari collects the tattered remains of your stuffie and helps you to your feet. "Come on, before the campus officers show up."

All three of you take off running until you reach the parking lot. You sit next to Sloane in the back seat and attempt to steady your breathing. No one else is in sight as three of you head off towards home.

"Y/N. I'm sorry we were late. It was my fault–" Illari frowns.

"It's not your fault! Please don't blame yourself." You cut her off.

"Y/N is right. The only person at fault is the person who did this to them." Sloane places their hand over yours and comforts you to the best of their ability.

"Still... I'm sorry." Illari adds.

The three of you ride together in silence before arriving at your place. You plop down on your couch in despair as you take your stuffie out from your bag. The damage seems almost beyond repair.

"Don't worry, I can fix them!" Illari pulls out your sewing kit from the closet. "I learned to sew when I was just a little girl. It's second nature to me."

You watch as she begins to carefully reshape your friend with the upmost care and love. There was a soothing gentleness in her actions that you've never seen before.

"I never would've thought you were the domestic type, Illari!" Sloane joked.

"My mother made me learn it just in case. She always told me it would come in handy."

"Thanks again, Illari. You're the best." You smile.

"You're always welcome, Y/N."

A few minutes pass in silence before you watch Sloane stand up and disappear into the kitchen. They return with three mugs and set them carefully down on the coffee table.

"Here's my contribution!" Sloane says, bringing their mug up to their lips before flinching at the warmth. You can't help but giggle at their reaction.

"It's called hot chocolate for a reason. You have to be patient..." you chide.

"I just need to reattach one of the eyes and they should be good as new. We're lucky we managed to save a lot their stuffing." Illari pulls on a long thread and adjusts your stuffies eye back into place. "There, that should be good. Give them a hug and see!"

Illari tosses your stuffie to you and you give them the longest, tightest hug you can muster. They feel as soft as the day you first bought them.

"[Stuffie Name] feels great! Thank you again, Illari!" You bury your face into your fuzzy friend once again and smile.

"Hey! Can I give them a hug, too?" Sloane asks.

You hand them over happily and watch as Sloane gives them a huge hug. "I'm sorry for being late to the rescue, [Stuffie Name]. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course they forgive you. They said it isn't your fault or Illari's– oh, and they say thank you for fixing me!" You translate on behalf of your stuffie.

Illari smiles from the sentiment.

"I guess this means I get to be Y/N's bodyguard from now on, that way no one can mess with you or [Stuffie Name] ever again!"

Sloane hands your stuffie back to you for safe keeping. You hug them close to your chest and relax into the couch with your eyes closed.

"What are we going to do about... the incident... though?" You ask.

"We can deal with that tomorrow. Let's just relax tonight. I think we've all earned it." Illari nestles into the opposite side of the couch with the television remote in her hand.

Sloane wraps their body around yours and ruffles your stuffies fur before giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"I can dig that." You smile wide, hugging your stuffie close as you settle into the night.

#DROPPING THIS AT MIDNIGHT #venture x reader #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #sloane cameron #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch 2 #overwatch

[georgies-ftts]

GIVE ME THE WESPER ANGST. THE HURT. THE PAAAIN.

and not the “oh my god they misunderstood each other over something that could’ve been solved by basic human communication🥺👉👈”

NO!

I WANT WYLAN TIMING HIS EXPLOSIONS WRONG AND JESPER GETTING CAUGHT IN THE FALL OUT AND HE CANT FIND HIM THROUGH THE DUST AND DESTRUCTION

WYLAN MOVING AT THE WRONG TIME AND JESPER WATCHES AS HIS AIMED SHOT GOES STRAIGHT THROUGH HIM

JESPER GETTING BEATEN UP AND WYLANS HURT BUT DESPITE HIS PAIN HE STILL GETS UP AND TRIES TO DEFEND JESPER

WYLAN NOT GETTING AWAY FROM HIS OWN BOMB QUICK ENOUGH AND BLOWING HIS EAR DRUMS OUT OR GETTING BURIED IN RUBBLE

JESPER OWING PEOPLE MONEY AND GETTING CHASED THROUGH THE BARREL AND NOT BEING ABLE TO GET THE FIRST DRAW AND HE GETS WOUNDED BADLY

WYLANS DAD STILL SENDING PEOPLE TO TRY AND FINISH HIM OFF EVEN FROM HELLGATE SOMEHOW AND HE GETS CAUGHT ALONE IN A BACK ALLEY UNABLE TO GET BACK TO THE CROWS CAUSE HE’S SO HURT

JESPER RETURNING LATE FROM A JOB WITH KAZ AND WYLANS WORRIED BUT WHEN HE COMES HOME HE’S ONLY A LITTLE HURT BUT WYLAN GOES CRAZY

JESPER LOSING THE ABILITY TO SHOOT DUE TO A TEMPORARY INJURY

JESPER AND WYLAN GET CORNERED AND THINK THEY’VE FINALLY RUN OUT OF TIME BUT THEY’LL DIE PROTECTING EACHOTHER

WYLAN GETTING THROWN INTO A CANAL AND HE HAS A ‘KAZ’ TYPE PTSD FLASHBACK OF THE MEN TRYING TO KILL HIM ON THE BOAT TO THE MUSIC SCHOOL AND WHEN HE TAKES WAY TOO LONG TO RESURFACE JESPER JUMPS IN AFTER HIM (might write this one actually omg i’m a genius)

JUST. ANGST. PLEASE. I NEED YO SEE THEM SUFFER AS LONG AS THEY EITHER BOTH LIVE OR DIE TOGETHER AND LOVE EACHOTHER ALL THE WHILE I DO NOT CARE

#six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone season 2 #wylan van eck #six of crows wylan #wylan hendriks #soc wylan #jesper fahey #six of crows jesper #soc jesper #wesper #wylan x jesper #jesper x wylan #cw swearing #tw swearing #caps lock

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

And one more 😍😍💗💗

May I please request Cersei x reader with Dacryphilia?

eeee, thank you for this! Always happy to write about our lioness.

Warnings: Dacryphilia, orgasm denial, fingering, spanking. Words: ~900

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

You gasp, a shiver rolling through you, as your body tenses and spasms, falling apart around the Lannister Queen's fingers as she lays between your legs.

She is quick to withdraw them, leaving you to clench around nothing. She rises, sitting back on her haunches and regards you coldly with a tilt of her head.

It's only then in your pleasure drunk haze that you realise you've accidentally reached your peak. She had explicitly instructed you not to do so without her permission.

You draw in a shuddering breath, shame rolling over you like a wave of Dornish heat, and begin to stammer your apologies.

"I-I am sorry...so sorry, Your Grace. I did not mean to, I know I wasn't supposed to, I-"

"You are beginning to irritate me." Cersei cuts you off, her voice smooth as silk.

She is ethereal as she kneels above you. A light sheen of perspiration clings to her smooth skin. Her waves of long, flaxen hair obscure her breasts from your view, and in the glow of the candlelight she looks like the Maiden herself.

It is a stark contrast to the fury that you see burning in her bright green eyes, a predatory hunger that both terrifies and excites you.

You know that the Queen's marriage to King Robert is an unhappy one, and you have heard the ugly rumours that spread around the Red Keep with regard to the nature of her relationship with her brother, Ser Jaime. You have been her lady's maid for more than a year now, it would be impudent not to take notice of the matters that ail her.

You are not quite sure how your relationship with her evolved into something more, it seemed to have happened out of nowhere. One morning, six months ago, you'd entered her quarters to help ready her for the day, and she'd been reclining in the bath in front of the fireplace. Her eyes had sought yours and she'd pointedly stood, watching closely as your gaze drifted over the wet curves of her body. She'd beckoned you over with a crook of her finger, and you'd regularly found yourself in her bed ever since.

Cersei wasn't necessarily cruel to you, but she wasn't a gentle lover either. You suspected she used you as a means to vent her frustrations at the political disputes she often found herself at the centre of.

She is a lioness toying with her prey, seeking release between your thighs. She delights in her ability to make you sob with every torturous touch and playful denial, tracing your tear tracks with dexterous fingers and smiling in satisfaction at the wetness that lines your lashes.

You are well aware that it is folly to allow this to continue, a flagrant abuse of her power, yet you cannot find it in yourself to give her up. You aren't sure she'd let you. The scent of almond oil that clings to her hair and pulse points is intoxicating, the taste of Arbor Gold upon her lips makes you dizzy with every feverish kiss. She brings you to the apex of your pleasure faster and more skilfully than any man you've ever coupled with. So you allow her your tears and your dignity.

You can feel the familiar burn around your waterline threatening to spill over as you lay there now. You know she wants to push you to the point where it does.

"You will not have release until I grant it, is that understood?" She'd commanded earlier that evening, pushing you back onto the bed once you'd discarded your gown.

You'd nodded fervently, eager to obey your Queen, but the way her fingers had worked so expertly inside of you had made it impossible to hold back, and so now you were utterly at her mercy.

You are certain that she'd done this on purpose, set you up to fail so that she had an excuse to punish you, and you find yourself wondering what grievance from her day she'll be taking out on you tonight.

"So pretty when you cry." She coos, stroking your cheek, a gesture that's almost tender.

She withdraws, leaning over the side of the bed and reappears with a black leather paddle in her hands. She smirks as your eyes widen.

"On all fours for me, like a good little bitch." Cersei orders wickedly.

"Your Grace, please, have mercy." You whine.

She huffs softly through her nose, rolling her eyes playfully. "I suggest you pray to the Mother for that. I've none to give you. I shan't ask again."

You do as you're told, rolling over and supporting your weight on shaking arms and legs. Jolting in surprise when her palm smooths softly over the curve of your rear, you inhale sharply, bracing yourself for impact.

"This might hurt a little." She purrs. "But I'm sure you know that."

The crack of the paddle smacking your bare flesh echoes off of the vaulted ceiling, as stinging pain blossoms in its wake. Hot, wet tears trail down your cheeks. This is the price you pay when you allow a lioness to make you her plaything.

#cersei lannister #cersei #cersei lannister x reader #cersei x reader #game of thrones #got #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #cersei lannister smut #cersei smut #cersei lannister fan fiction #cersei fan fiction #got fan fiction #asoiaf fan fiction #a song of ice and fire fan fiction #game of thrones fan fiction

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello I love your short fics you do with LeonxReader. I also saw your “tired, trying and internally dying” and it describes me perfectly. I was also wondering if you would do a LeonxReader with some injury/angst and Leon or reader whoever is the injured one making jokes to try and lighten the situation??? Please and thank you💖💖

I appreciate that you enjoy my little Leon x reader stuff and Ngl I made that motto up on the fly when making this blog and now I’m only seemingly to live up to it nowadays 😂

Tw: Hatchets being thrown, injuries, violence, gun violence and reader having a gun.

‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not good etiquette to greet guests with such hostility?’ You taunted the villager just as he threw his hatchet at your head but you moved out of it’s trajectory in the nick of time. ‘Ha! You missed!’ You exclaimed which would’ve proved in making the villager pissed, but you noticed the sinister look in his eyes as they moved over your shoulder before a sickeningly satisfied smirk stretched across his face.

Just then a pained shout came from behind you and your blood ran cold. ‘Leon?’ You said under your breath and the smile on the villagers face seemed to only grow, as though he was confirming your worst fear; A scowl then replaced your worried expression as your jaw clenched tightly and your blood began to boil out of anger.

‘Say good night you son of a bitch.’ You snarled as you were quick in drawing your gun before putting a couple of well placed bullets through the man’s head, chest and legs in rapid fire succession; Taking an unsettling amount of enjoyment as he fell off the side of the castle battlements and into the veil of smog below before a faint thud could be heard, indicating that the bastard was well and truly dead.

‘Hey, if your done patting yourself on the back, I’m still very much hurt and would very appreciate if my lovely partner would offer me a helping hand, if that’s not too much to ask for?’ Leon’s voice brought you out of your own head and you were quick to look at him; only for your eyes to focus on the handle of the hatchet that stuck out from his shoulder whilst the steel blade was buried deep into his flesh.

‘Oh my god, Leon.’ You said hurriedly as you rushed to his side, trying not to openly express your internal fretting over him but you obviously weren’t doing so well in keeping your composure, as Leon attempted a smile before placing his hand on your shoulder. ‘It’s no biggie, having a hatchet in your shoulder and all.’ He shrugs with his uninjured shoulder. ‘It could’ve been a hell of a lot worse, so I’d give this experience a five out of ten.’

‘Will you quit it with the joking?’ You said, not finding any of this even remotely funny as you gestured to the hatchet in his shoulder. ‘You’re hurt, seriously hurt-‘

‘oh is that what this searing pain in my shoulder is? I wouldn’t have guessed. Thank you for educating me doctor, you really saved my life.’ Leon cuts you off sarcastically and you looked at him with raised brows and arms crossed over your chest as you impatiently tapped your foot. ‘Your ability to run your mouth hasn’t seemed to be hindered much for an injured man, so you should be up to continuing the mission right?’ You told him, flashing a false smile as you patted his chest rather harshly, causing Leon to wince upon each impact of your hand.

‘No, I would like it very much if my partner got me medical attention before I decided to pull this fucker out myself and bleed to death.’ Leon retorted, mimicking you by raising his brows and tapping his foot. The sight was quite humorous that you had to stifle a chuckle behind you hand because of it, before regaining your composure as you then sighed loudly as you moved yourself to Leon’s side and usher him to where you met the merchant last.

Yet with how slow Leon was taking his strides, you couldn’t help but crack a joke at his expense. ‘C’mon grandpa, it’s time for your daily medication.’ Leon scoffed but couldn’t help the smile that slip onto his lips when he noticed how much you’ve calmed down since first seeing his injury; Being a little pain in the arse seemed to have finally pay off in his favour.

‘You’ve been waiting to make that joke you, haven’t you?’ Leon asked, voice light in humour as he gauged your reaction.

‘Maybe.’ You responded, neither denying nor confirming.

‘Bitch.’ Leon said.

‘Jerk.’ You replied.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon keneddy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy imagines #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fic #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff #resident evil imagine #resident evil x y/n #re4 remake #re4 leon #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: weapons #tw: gun violence #tw: gun mention

[theratlivinginyourcouchcushions]

Equivalence AU Mabel ideas!

I wanted to experiment with God!zar(?) Mabel, bc I hadn’t seen any designs for it yet. I was also going to try drawing Mabel in her super-demon-y form, (which is apparently blinding white with abyss for eyes and tiny burning pupils) but was two invested in the outfit to really lean into it.

Now for some of my headcannons!

While drawing Mabel, I started thinking about her bird wings, and what kind of traits she might have similar to animals (like dipper and cats) and then it hit me. BIRDS.

An entire class of animals characterized by their ability to DEFY GRAVITY FOR HOURS TO DAYS AT A TIME. (And the ones that don’t are pretty cool too) and I got to thinking about how cool birds are, to achieve this through nothing but MILLIONS of years of evolution. (My thoughts on this are not very organized, but I hope you get the gist.) so anyway, what cool things do birds do, and wouldn’t it be cool if Mabel did them too?

Mating dance. Since it’s pretty much canon that Mizar is still alloromantic and allosexual, wouldn’t it be goofy if she would do a funky little dance when trying to ask people out? (She definitely did this for Henry as soon as she was corporeal for him)

Roosting. Basically making nests in high places out of things she likes, probably perches in it to preen her feathers. (I originally had a similar hc for Alcor, but whatever, they’re demons. But maybe he roosts like a bat instead:) )

Preening. She has a set of ridges under her lip (in front of her gums) for preening her feathers. Her loved ones have little tools to mimic them, and help her get hard-to-reach places. (She often falls asleep during this, similar to Dipper with his hair.)

Migration. I’m still not super organized with this one, but she might try to take off during the winter for long periods of time before coming back, or maybe just circling around to get out energy. Either that or she just tells people that she’s flying south for the winter when she doesn’t want to hang out with them. (This was also a hc meant for Dipper, but now I’m wondering if he tries to hibernate during winter.)

So those were my Equivalence AU headcannons, now for the design choices I made!

I talked a little bit about them at the start, but I still want to talk about it so, here we go!

The fashion was all based on @that-ghosts-art / @that-ghost-pal ‘s Mabel/Mizar designs, and I was very happy for the chance to test out different fashion styles, as well as the braid and shifting tattoos. (For the tattoos I just drew whatever I felt like at the time, and I added a scorpion barb at the end of the braid just for fun.) I added gold-tipped feathers to the wings, and some extra pink bits in her eyes (except for the angry one) I also gave her a crown instead of a top hat.

For God!zar(?) I tried to give her wings a more feather-y feeling than God!cor’s, and made the chest star more like her symbol on the cipher wheel. I muted the colors, and messed with her crown bc God!cor’s hat is a halo, and I didn’t want to copy that directly. I struggled with the hair color for a while before deciding to just bite the bullet, so please excuse any eye scorching color choices (It was originally planned for galaxy hair, but that was given to the wings, and I’m not great with overlapping colors)

Thanks for reading this far into my ramblings, and take a few moments to marvel at the existence of birds (and bats!)

Edit: I’m just now realizing that I forgot to draw the fire.

#transcendence au #Mizar the merciless #tau #theratlivinginyourcouchcushions #alcor the dreambender #Alcor and Mizar #art #gravity falls au #Equivalence AU #digital art #my art #gravity falls #Somebody PLEASE draw Mabel doing her dance for Henry #mabel x henry #the flock #Mabel Pines #I didn’t mean to use the God!zar picture with hair stars #try to ignore them pls #somebody draw Mabel’s birdie dance

[sanguine-law]

@melancoliefatale | warm

He didn’t how he ended up here in the woods and against the cold ground and frozen leaf nor does…only the stinging pain in his head and the uncomfortable feeling in his body, god he felt cold…Justin looked at his surrounding but it was only enveloped in a mist, he can’t see anything, he can’t go home. He could feel the wind hitting his face as his arms surround him trying pitifully to preserve body heat, Justin weakly called for help as he walked but the florist could feel that he walked like a boat and that he couldn’t feel his finger. after a while of desperation for help, his body give out and it felt like falling in something soft as he cannot register that it fell on snow, it felt so tiring, some sleep wouldn’t hurt ? A good sleep… But his eyes register something, a silhouette or maybe it was his imagination ? He doesn’t know anymore except that his body felt numb and couldn’t feel the harsh cold anymore. Then the red silhouette stop and Justin eyes widen a bit when it see who it was…that vampire of last time, the one who tried to eat him and for the first time Justin begin to fear that his eyes begin to water, not processing the words spoken by the stranger as he closed his eyes waiting for his end. except that he felt himself being against something warm, breathing and something put against his shoulder as a cover, a delicate hand rubbing with precautions his back to warm him up as Justin could feel being carried. « Don’t….kill me…please… » he weakly plead in a whisper so low that it would be easily carried in the winds.

He thanked Hell for his enchantment abilities. In a blizzard like this, a normal heat ward would have left Joseph's wings completely frigid and icy. Not to mention his legs and his face with how long he'd been out. His extensive spells on his new pin kept him as warm as an early summer day. Even as a little bat.

Joseph had been flying back to his city when he heard a voice. Someone else was still out in this mess.

His ears wiggled. Joseph latched onto a nearby tree and focused on the sound. The voice... and he could hear the crunch of snow. Footsteps.

He flew off again to follow the sound. With the direction of the crunchy steps, Joseph could estimate where the person was going. And what direction they were going.

What he ended up finding didn't surprise him at first. A human, collapsed in the snow. As he flew closer, Joseph turned back into his vampire form mid flight. And he got a better look.

He recognized that face. It was that little florist boy he'd seen in town. The one he'd enjoyed giving a good scare. Joseph flew down, landing beside the man. Well this was an interesting case.

Normally, Joseph would leave a person to die. He used to. But this florist amused him. He scared so easily, and reacted so stiffly. And, the man had seemingly not told anyone about that midnight encounter of theirs.

Joseph knelt down and picked the man up. Even getting covered in snow like this, those enchantments would keep Joseph warm. Not Justin, though that would be to the poor florist's detriment if they did. As cold as the man felt, too much heat would stop his heart.

But so could a flight.

Joseph had just elected to draw upon his magic when he heard the man speak. Or, whisper. He couldn't help but smile. Even as the man was freezing, he couldn't help his fear of a vampire. He chuckled. One wing stretched forward, opening a portal as he casually said, "I won't kill you. Luckily for you, I've eaten today and I'm quite full."

Then he stepped through to a large room in his warm house. The portal closed behind him.

The room had a few white beds in it, each with a metal stand beside the head, separated haphazardly with curtains. Joseph walked over to one of the beds and set the man down. The mattress would get wet from snow, but it was better than the cold tile floor.

Joseph then pulled out a ring. He reached into nothingness, then pulled out what looked like a small screw. In truth, it was a screw enchanted to help him focus teleportation. With a snap, Justin's cold, wet clothes were suddenly on the floor beside the bed.

Joseph then walked over to the wall. He leaned in toward a small pipe in the wall, and whistled. That would get the attention of his staff. "Nurses," he called with a lack of care, "towels, dry clothes, and warm bottles of water to the medical wing." Because like hell did Joseph intend to do the rest himself.

He had staff to do that fine work for him while he watched.

He turned back to the florist with a smile. "As unlucky as you were to find yourself in a blizzard, you're quite lucky someone like myself found you." Joseph laughed to himself. "Or perhaps, even unluckier.

"The little florist, right?"

#vampire #justin dies of cold asmr #Imagine you're kept alive only because a powerful being finds your terror funny

[veliseraptor]

for the wip meme, I’ll pull the devil down with me, one way or another, please! I've been obsessed with it since I first saw it on your wip list.

the premise for this one is basically "loki makes the decision to betray asgard and sell out to thanos for the sake of a long game ending in thanos's defeat, and this involves a lot of atrocities that are ultimately undone but 100% still happened as far as loki is concerned, up to and including thor's murder." honestly it's drawing thematically on the fear itself arc of journey into mystery but nastier.

I think my trouble with this one is that I've been lingering too long on the aftermath and it's drawing it out unnecessarily, but I'm having a hard time figuring out how to end it otherwise. and, I mean, there's a whole bunch of stuff that needs to get filled in in the middle, but I feel like the stalling point might be figuring out how to end the damn thing (as is often the case, for me).

excerpt!!!

“My lord,” he said, not bothering to mask the tremor in his voice. Thanos would expect fear. “I return.”  “So you do,” Thanos said after a long silence. Loki kept his eyes down, not daring to look up. “You return, Loki of Asgard, a failure. You failed to overcome one puny planet. You failed to bring me the Tesseract, as was promised. In all that I sent you to do, you failed.”  Loki swallowed hard. There was no need to feign his terror; Thanos’s voice alone sent it vibrating deep into his bones. “I know,” he said. “And I am - I am sorry.” “I do not want your apologies, whelp,” Thanos said. “Take him. Do what you like with him. But do not kill him. I would not offer Death such a pathetic gift.”  “Please,” Loki said quickly. “All is - all is not lost, my lord. It is true that - Midgard still stands. But I do not come before you empty handed, and I have not been idle.”  Lie. Lie as well as you have ever lied, Loki Silvertongue, for the fate of the Nine and beyond rests on your ability to trick a mad god.  “I was captured, true, but I gained the trust of the Odinson when the Aether was found again.” Silence, but the emissary did not seize him yet. “I feigned my death-” Choking on blood, jerking back to life in spasms of agony - “and gained the throne of Asgard. And now I come to you bearing not only the price agreed-” He laid the Tesseract down, “-but another artifact of great power, that I will either give to you or use in your service. I know, too, the location of the Aether. It is with the Collector on Knowhere. If you wish, I would fetch it for you-” “I am sure that you would,” Thanos interrupted. Loki fell silent. He could hear his own breathing, loud and strained; at least that would not play against him.

#conversating #anonymous #fic excerpt #lise memes #confessions of a frustrated writer #loki's a goddamn mess #another fic i have like 30 pages of #that i actually like #and yet sits unfinished #someday!!!

[starryluminary]

Update on the previously mentioned Noco collaboration!

It’s almost ready to go! Everything I wanted to prepare is now properly organized, so I’m glad to be sharing some information before officially starting it!

The theme of this collaboration will beeeee….

Sleepy-Time!

Or at least that’s what I’m calling it. It’s sleeping/naps. Seeing as the root of Noco was a kiss during a nap, I figured this theme fit them perfectly. Onto the details!

The final maximum amount of artists and authors to participate is 20 artists and 15 authors. That’s 35 people in total! For my first collaboration, I think that’s a fine number!

I will officially be opening the collaboration on Friday December 1st, 12 pm AST (Atlantic Standard Time.) Take this time to consider if you’d like to participate. Spots can begin being claimed the moment I open the collab!

The deadline for submissions will be Wednesday January 3rd, 11:59 pm AST. The final collaboration would then be posted by January 5th.

Now… what would the contributions consist of?

For artists: Full body, transparent png drawing of Noah and Cody on the sleepy-time theme. They can be asleep, wrapped in blankets, death gripping a teddy bear, whatever you like. So long as they look ready to sleep/are sleeping. It can be as simple or as detailed as you’d like. Both digital and traditional art is accepted! (Should a traditional artist need help making a transparent png, I am willing to help!)

For authors: One shot focused on Noah and Cody on the sleepy-time theme. They can be getting ready to sleep together, waking up after a nap, asking each other how the sleep felt, whatever you like. So long as they sleep at some point. It can be as long or as short as you’d like. It can even be a poem, go ham. You will have to choose a short section of your fic (preferably not over three sentences) that encapsulates it to be displayed in the final collaboration.

Guidelines for both artists and authors:

Please dear god nothing NSFW. It’s not that kind of sleeping. Let’s keep it pg-13 at least.

Aus are all fair game. Be as creative as you wish!

Should you claim a spot but later decide you can’t participate for whatever reason, please notify me as soon as possible to give the opportunity to someone else swiftly! (This is assuming all the spots get claimed but. What are the chances of that lmao)

All submitted works will be properly credited and linked back to in their own posts where I can do so appropriately. If you wish to remain uncredited for whatever reason, you will be referred to as “anonymous.”

That’s all for now! If you have any questions please feel free to ask me, and I’ll answer to the best of my ability. We’ll reconvene on December 1st!!

#yippie!! :3 #I’m so happy I finally get to bring some of the Noco community together in a collab #ID like to mention there’s no pressure to join the collab! this is all good fun! #and if not all the spots are claimed that’s ok! I’m happy to work with the ones that join! #total drama #noco #total drama noco #td noco #noco sleepy time collab #as it will henceforth be known as #thank you to those who are still interested! I hope we can have a good time!!