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magomo · 2 years

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HPHM MC BIRTHDAY LIST

PLEASE READ!!!

MC or OC MUST be Jacob’s younger sibling. If they do not have an older brother named Jacob, they have to at least be your in-game character.

MC or OC MUST be your in-game character or avatar. This is the most important criterion.

MUST be born between 1 September 1972 and 31 August 1973 (I guess I will be lenient to those born on September-December 1973). This is canonically their birth date so it’s only appropriate.

If MC or OC is a twin, their twin sibling will be included.

Adopted sibling/s may be included as long as their birthdays fall on Jacob’s sibling’s canonical birth date

Jacob himself and any other older or younger siblings will not be included in this list. Cousin/s will not be included, as they are not even Jacob's sibling/s. Any other HPHM OC/s who are not Jacob's sibling/s or who isn't your in-game character will not be included either. I may put their names on the list for a certain amount of time but I will remove them eventually

Thank you for understanding

SEPTEMBER 1972

2 - Wendy Gordon @drinkyoursoupbitch

13 - Kyril Vasiley @saniwanya-oc

29 - Jeniferl Theman @hphm-jeniferltheman

30 - Rinkitori Kirinto Phan @krinkitori

OCTOBER 1972

3 - Maya Winter @themilkshanghai

13 - Candy Vigiere @immagrosscandy

13 - Adel Young @adellovesrowan

NOVEMBER 1972

5 - Roger Lopez @roygiri

5 - Madeline Orionswan @madelineorionswan

9 - Dirty Fox @dirtyfox911911

11 - Uriel Nightclaw @montdiarts

12 - Gwen Dunmoore @ag907

12 - Keira Richardson @raccoon-lair

20 - Annie Thorn @petite-libellule-ao3

24 - Lizzie Jameson @lifeofkaze

30 - Kouneli Ulrikke @thomokmeow

DECEMBER 1972

1 - Rosemary Woodward @penandlily

22 - Coraline Wytte @nelabelievesindragons

25 - Daniel Clark @akaisenhatake

JANUARY 1973

13 - Leiretta Gorsier @leiretta

16 - Kaina Malin @zuulosdovah

16 - Juniper Moss @usernoneexistent

FEBRUARY 1973

1 - Xiv Evans @ladycibia

7 - Aishwarya Merha @hogwarts9

14 - Abia Khouri @abianeverdecides

14 - Sabine Lowell @6ftslytherin

14 - Elaiza Schuyler @annabelle-tanaka-official

14 - Ekaterina Solokov @struckbyelectriclove

23 - Lilian Le'Reau @ravenclaw-craftsgirl

24 - Hillary & Princia de Villier @hillarydevillier

MARCH 1973

4 - Isolde Hiwatari @aneshkablack

20 - Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws

APRIL 1973

5 - Isabelle Dubois @endlessly-cursed

13 - Cato Reese @catohphm

17 - Neon Welkin @neonbluewaves

27 - Sadie mac Lir @caw4brandon

MAY 1973

1 - Artemis Hexley @the-al-chemist

1 - Male Liddell @maleliddell

12 - Marco Hernandez @theevoh12

18 - Alexandros & Adam Deathwood @alexandros-deathwood

19 - Cereza & Michael Gomez @rosachaotic

23 - Yang Rubis @piyangg

JUNE 1973

14 - Joslyn Wei @lisin-drw

15 - Joshua & Joseph Bennet @yoselin-uyu

JULY 1973

8 - Quinn Lee @eternalchaoschocolaterain

8 - Mira Rune @aemdraws

11 - Night Rhea @night-rhea

16 - Samantha O’Connell @samshogwarts

23 - Malcolm Deathwood @alexandros-deathwood

30 - Liliahri Queen @liliahri

AUGUST 1973

3 - Evie Salazar @goldhexes

8 - Nina Lindenbaum @magomo

10 - Orion Houston @my-secret-hphm-blog

16 - Leo Blinar @risobox

17 - Carmilla Frank @carmilla-the-bird

20 - Nancy Anderson @tojiriki

29 - Carewyn Cromwell @carewyncromwell

OCTOBER 1973

26 - Quinn Campbell @ben-copper-appreciation-club

NOVEMBER 1973

18 - Freyja Young @marmotish

30 - Honey Bee @hmhoney

DECEMBER 1973

18 - Kaoru Sastrolinea @skyline-timeturner

I wanna include them on the list but dunno their birthdates 😔

Stella Sullivan @swcsunmoon

Jay Miles @wispila

Cassie Lark @gihu

Waria Yantarnii @yantarnii

Allison Garrison @slytherincursebreaker

Alex Vega @weirdcursedvaultkid

Mollie Windsor @bacpain

Willow Dewdrop @thatgamergirlakane

I dunno if anyone else already did this. I got bored at the office so yeah. This is a good chance to meet other creators and make new friends! Oh and please let me know if I made a mistake (wrong date, wrong spelling, wrong house color, etc.) or if you want your MC’s birthday to be updated or if anyone can provide the birthdates of the MCs whose birthdays I do not know of or if you want your MC’s birthday to be added on this list. Hehe. Please comment. Thank you.

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shortterminall · 17 days

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New nails😋😋

#goth girl #$h tumblr #tc4 #daddy issues #im mentally ill #praise me lol

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eyobis-andthe-bunnycats · 9 months

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Made french toast for the first time! I had a huge learning curve but I got the hang of it eventually lol

#took everything in stride and didn't have a meltdown when it went wrong #praise me lol #french toast #food #b-k speaks #breakfast for dinner

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mobileleprechaun · 2 months

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The Pea

I'm very hung up on the symbolism of this dish, particularly with how it pertains to Eddie and his episode of severe emotional distress.

Eddie was all alone in his post office when we found him. Although he refused to state this outright, it was clear he was feeling excluded and forgotten by his neighbors. We have often seen him pushed to the margins of the community, only sought out for his utility to the others.

Barnaby openly delights in scaring and tormenting him, Howdy overworks him without sparing a second thought to his needs, Julie only calls upon him when she someone who's easy to drag into a game, Sally refuses to address him by name and treats his attempts at social connection with disdain, Wally and Poppy only have fleeting interactions with him, and Frank hides his burgeoning fondness behind a facade of cordial indifference.

The pea is alone, too, isolated on the stark white backdrop of the plate.

"Take care not to place them too close together." Even if there are more "peas" at this party, Eddie sits alone in Home's chair, denied the basic creature comforts of intimacy as he watches the others mingle.

The pea is also a pittance to Eddie. It is presented to him right after Sally's single, small attempt to show him goodwill, which she only bothers to do because it's a holiday.

She still does not address him by his name. The gesture, the pea, and the seat are all mere crumbs – too little, too late for a neglected outsider who struggles to make sense of the lonely, awful torment of his life in this Neighborhood, one which he cannot properly articulate for fear of sounding ungrateful.

Home stares him down from his lonely seat. Its presence is monolithic and ominous, a towering figure that only makes him feel more small and alone.

Is it intruding on his mind on purpose, trying to hurt him? Personally, I don't think so, though it still remains to be seen. His words to Frank at the end are telling, though. "I want to go home."

Whether it means to or not, Home torments him with its very being. It's both the elephant and the room. Eddie is an outsider. Eddie can't remember where he's from. Eddie sleeps in a post office after thanklessly running himself ragged every day. Home is the very reason for this holiday, and Eddie is homeless. It's staring him down because it's a symbol of everything he aches for, but cannot have.

Eddie is the single pea on Home's plate. Take care not to place him too close to anyone else.

#welcome home #eddie dear #home welcome home #welcome home analysis #this got a little loose at the end lol #had to get it out cuz it was tormenting me #goes without saying but the whole team deserves our praise for this beautiful update #welcome home spoilers #welcome home update

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oifaaa · 1 year

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So much respect for which ever mad bastard at dreamworks said fuck it let's actually make a good Puss in Boots movie and not just another pitiful cash grab this kitty deserves better so true

#puss in boots #i cant remember the last dream works movie i enjoyed this much ngl #its been a while #i wasn't expecting puss in boots to be different #i saw some people praising it #but i also saw people praising bad guys #which eh was kinda just fine for me #but puss was actually a good movie #go watch it if you haven't #im a wee bit late to the game tho so most of you probably have lol #oifaaaposts

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myfriendgoo94 · 8 months

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Why is this girl so happy? Cuz as of today, she will be legally known as Charlotte!!!!!!!

#also praise the sun i guess? lol #i’m so relieved and happy 😃#it me!

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overlymetaromantic · 3 months

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I will admit, I am currently anime-only for Dungeon Meshi at the moment, but this is the broad impression of Kabru that I've gotten from the fandom so far, and I have to say, I am very much looking forward to this man's anguish and mental suffering ✨

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #laios touden #kabru #mithrun #are there ship names for these. should I be tagging ships??#fanart #it's been so long #also idk if any of this counts as spoilers I don't actually know that much about Mithrun in particular lol #anyway excellent show so far!#the manga's praise is clearly well earned I love how much people love it #let's pretend I can draw #don't mind me posting at midnight we'll see if anyone sees this lol

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blindmagdalena · 4 months

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Guilty Pleasures ( chapter two )

18+ 3.8k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, lite somnophilia, breaking & entering, petty theft, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 2/4. AO3 link. CH I. CH 3

Homelander is the most powerful man in the world, and all he wants is to be yours.

After spending the majority of your evening and the following morning anticipating being fired, walking into work the next day feels like traversing a thinly frozen lake, each step webbing out in precarious cracks.

Clearly you’re not the only one who thinks so: you clock a handful of surprised looks from coworkers who’d attended the meeting and took note of the tension between you and Vought’s golden boy.

Maybe they’d taken bets on whether or not you’d be coming in this morning.

There’s no sign of Homelander on your way in. Not that you were expecting him–yesterday was the first time you actually saw him in person–but you still find yourself on the lookout. It’s hard to say whether you’re anticipating or dreading him. Part of you is still expecting to open your door and find a letter on your desk politely informing you that they’ve determined you aren’t a good “culture fit” for the company, and that your probation has been terminated.

After all, who in their right mind would take your side over Homelander’s?

You push open your office door, and sure enough, there is a letter waiting for you, but not in the way you expected. You stand in the doorway, staring in quiet incomprehension. The envelope, crisp and bright white, is propped up in a bed of rich red roses sitting in a pretty vase upon your desk. You glance behind you before you step inside, closing the door behind you, and approach the desk cautiously. You pluck the paper out of the bouquet, taking a moment to smell the flowers–they smell as good as they look–before you carefully rip open the envelope, tearing the small american flag sticker that sealed it.

Inside, there’s only one word on the folded piece of paper, scrawled in surprisingly elegant handwriting.

Truce?

You can’t help the incredulous little bark of laughter you give at that. It’s not even an apology. It’s a demand that he expects a gratuitous bundle of flowers will help you swallow, like taking medicine with a spoonful of sugar.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say quietly to the letter, setting it down on your desk. You give the roses one last sniff, testing one of the soft petals between your fingers. You wonder if what you said actually got through to him.

Homelander has no real reason to smooth things over with you: you’re no one. He’s posed no risk to himself by coming after you. He could no doubt have you fired by complaining that your marketing tactics don’t align with his brand. It’s hard to imagine Vought denies him much.

Yet he is apparently negotiating peace. It’s not nearly enough, but it is a start.

Or maybe it’s just more than you expected.

You sit, idly tapping the letter against your desk. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think him handsome. Homelander wasn’t the first man to ogle your tits while you gave a presentation, but he was certainly the first to fluster you like that when he did. His sly smile had made you want to slap him, but there was a questionable little part of you that thought about kissing it better afterwards.

Taking in a steadying breath, you slip the letter into your desk drawer and adjust the flowers to the side, admiring them a moment before you pull out your laptop.

If Homelander can behave himself enough to let you do your job without public humiliation, you can afford a truce. You don’t need to forgive or condone him to be civil, or even to continue having your own private fantasies. A little guilty pleasure now and again never hurt anyone.

You can’t know that Homelander is observing you throughout this internal conversation, watching through several layers of steel and concrete, his parted lips curving into a slow smile as you accept his offering. You can’t know that you haven’t just acknowledged a truce, but an invitation.

No, you can’t possibly know what’s to come.

Two days later, you diligently change the water that the roses in your office sit in. They’re doing well, the crimson buds having unfurled into a splay of velvety petals. You pinch one between your thumb and forefinger and stroke it absently. Homelander has continued to be a scarcity, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen him. Quite the opposite: you spend most of your working hours either looking at or thinking about his face to the point where it’s starting to follow you home each day.

That’s what you tell yourself when you think of him outside of work hours, anyways.

It’s been long enough now that you wonder if the flowers were the end of it. He was simply covering his ass with a half hearted gesture that slightly resembled an apology so that you could both comfortably drop the subject. That was entirely fine by you so long as he actually did improve his behavior.

A familiarly brisk knock at your door catapults your heart up against the cage of your ribs like a spooked hare. It’s the exact same beat, you’re sure of it. You stay quiet, half expecting to be barged in upon, but when nothing happens, you move from your desk and open the door yourself, intentionally blocking it with your body.

Sure enough, Homelander stands tall on the other side. He flashes his signature smile while your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I think I’m the one who can help you,” he says brightly, that spread of teeth downright wolfish. He lifts a handful of papers that have been stapled at the corner, gesturing for you to take it.

Still wary, you take them from him and shift, wedging your foot to keep the door firmly in place while you flip through the pages. Your brows furrow as you recognize chunks of your own presentation. Understanding dawns when you realize that he’s annotated them.

“You read my presentation,” you say, unable to mask your surprise.

“Obviously. It’s my image on the line, right? Got some notes for you, but I have to say: y’mostly nailed it,” he says, reaching out to rest a gloved hand on the doorway.

“Mostly?” You echo, quirking an eyebrow at him as you look up from the pages.

“Yeah, mostly. Again, I have some minor notes,” he says, wiggling his other hand in a vague gesture. “But I figure I owe you praise on a job mostly well done.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Crossing your arms, you abandon your stern foothold on the door in order to shift your weight, your incredulity showing in every inch of your body language. “What you owe me is an apology.”

Homelander’s grin softens into a smile that’s no less challenging. “Looks to me like you’ve already been enjoying my apology,” he says, leaning slightly to gaze past you, to the bundle of roses sitting prettily on your desk.

You briefly glance over your shoulder, but your expression remains impassive. Unimpressed. “That? That isn’t an apology. An apology would include the words I’m sorry.”

He scoffs a dismissive laugh, swaying back to look away, but you persist.

“I’m serious,” you say, luring his ocean blue gaze back to yours. “I want you to say to me ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation. It won’t happen again.’ “

The two of you hold each other’s gaze with all the magnitude of two gunmen in a duel, hands steady over your proverbial pistols.

To your surprise, Homelander does not fire back. He raises a dainty white flag.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation,” he says, words slow and measured. You watch his tongue flash over his bottom lip, wetting it attractively. You fight to not let your eyes linger on it. “It won’t happen again.”

You swallow, suddenly finding thought and speech an impossible task. You weren’t prepared for such raw, ready obedience from him, nor the intensity in his gaze that follows it. He reminds you of a charmed snake–docile so long as he is transfixed.

“Good,” you say, the word half a sigh. Homelander’s lips part and he breathes in like he’s caught wind of something particularly delicious smelling. “I accept your apology, and I appreciate that you took the time to do this,” you say, gesturing with the documents in your hand. “I’ll go over them and get back to you.”

He reaches out, bracing his hand on your office door. You half expect him to push it open, but he merely holds it there. “We could go over them together,” he suggests slyly.

“No,” you say, clearly disarming him. He looks as though he’s forgotten the meaning of the word. “I’m in the middle of another project at the moment.”

The leather of his gloves creaks faintly in your ear as he flexes his grip on the edge of the door. While what you’ve said is true, it’s also serving as a test. Words and flowers are pretty things, but only actions always speak the truth.

“At the moment,” he repeats, gears visibly turning in his eyes. “So… Later?” He extrapolates, displaying an uncharacteristic tentativeness alongside his obvious displeasure at the taste of rejection. You even see a glimmer of hope in the mess of his expression..

He did pass the test. You suppose you can reward him for that.

“Another time,” you say, giving your door an exploratory push. He relents, his hands sliding down the length of it before falling away as he takes a half-step back. “How about tomorrow on my lunch break? 1:00 o'clock sharp.”

He splits into a smile that looks more genuine than any of his you’ve seen before. “Aaalrighty-roo. Sounds gooood to meeeee,” he says, drawing out his vowels more the closer he gets to actually having to leave. At your silent, amused stare, he claps his gloved hands together with a muffled thump! and takes a few more steps backwards. “Yooooou’ll see me… tomorrow.”

Your smile pinches along with your brows. What a strange way to phrase it. “See you then,” you say, watching as his face is eclipsed by your closing door. You wait a beat and then let out a thin thread of breath from your pursed lips, resting your weight on the door.

Looking down at the papers in your hand, you push off from the door and head to your desk, flipping through them.

Such a strange man, you think, carrying the notes to your desk. You set them down next to the vase of roses and try not to think too much about the unconscious smile your lips keep settling into for the rest of the day.

Homelander’s got you hook, line and sinker. He’s certain of it. He lingers on the other side of your door just long enough to watch you through it while you settle, a charmed smile set on your lips. He can already imagine how those lips would feel against his own, how they’d taste. He swallows thickly and looks around before he departs, already plotting his next move.

The two of you have a date tomorrow, and in order to be at the top of his game, he’s going to have to do a little additional research. Knowing your work was a good first step. The next one will be learning about you.

Following you home is the easy part. It ultimately feels chivalrous to do so once he realizes you walk home even at this time of year, when the sun sets long before the work day ends. He drifts above you, cocking his head curiously. No wonder you walk. The streets are packed as tightly as sardine cans, and your apartment garage isn’t much better. The claustrophobia of it all serves as a stark contrast to the openness of Vought tower.

The interior of your apartment provides an even sharper juxtaposition to his penthouse. It’s tidy, but the comparatively low ceilings and minimal floor space still make it look cramped. Somehow, you simultaneously have too much and yet not much at all, the confinement of a downtown apartment making what minimal affects you do own seem crowded together.

That only becomes more apparent once he’s inside, slipped in through your balcony after sleep has taken you. Why would you bother to lock your balcony when you live on the 8th floor? It works out perfectly for him.

In all fairness, your living room feels cozier once he’s standing in the center of it. Your walls are lined with an assortment of art pieces and photographs, and the shelves are well stocked with books and knick-knacks. You have a decent film collection displayed on your media console, and he can’t help but snoop through it, bending at the waist, examining through the rows. He cocks his head.

Odd. You’d think an employee of Vought would have at least a few VCU films. He runs his index finger along the spines, slightly adjusting them flush as he goes. Pursing his lips, he straightens up and looks at the closed cabinets on either side. The left one yields an untidy assortment of electronic odds and ends, cords and the like. Nothing of much interest other than an indication that while you like to keep up appearances, you aren’t quite as together as you’d like people to think.

It’s on the right side, however, he finds what he’s really looking for.

“Bingo,” he whispers, smiling to himself as he scopes out your little hidden collection of Vought hero flicks. Specifically, his films. He’s less interested in the handful of others you own (Queen Maeve: Her Majesty, Black Noir: Insurrection, Lamplighter: The Bright World, etc) and more so in the fact that you have nearly his entire catalog tucked away.

Nearly. You’re missing his eighteen part miniseries, Homelander: Brightest Night.

At least that gives him something to gift you.

Closing the cabinet, he meanders about the rest of your apartment. You have some plants in varying states of decay, with only a few cacti looking to be in decent shape. Either your work keeps you too busy to properly mind them, or you just like the idea of them more than the reality. It tells him that you’re looking–and failing–to fill a void in your life. You want to feel less alone in your home, you want to nurture something. You just haven’t found the right something yet.

Striding into your kitchen, arms folded behind his back, he peers through the cheap wood veneer of your fiberboard cupboards, unveiling an unusually broad assortment of mugs. There doesn’t seem to be any particular theme: holidays, locales, characters, and a menagerie of patterns.

He hums softly, pivoting out of the kitchen and down the hall, his steps preternaturally light. He listens for the beat of your heart as he draws near, tunes it in alongside the shallow cadence of your breath. Deep asleep. Good.

The walls are lined with pictures of you and others. Friends or family, he can’t say, but you look to have an abundance of both. He rarely sees himself in photos that aren’t promotional material. He pauses to straighten a picture frame, and finds himself so viciously jealous of the man sharing the frame with you–his lips pressed to your cheek, your laughing smile so genuine he can nearly hear it–that he almost knocks it to the ground.

Running his tongue along his teeth, he continues on.

Your bedroom door is open. He slips in silently, pausing just through the doorway. Your bed's a queen, too big for just you. You’re sprawled comfortably amidst pillows, limbs splayed in just such a way that he can easily imagine fitting himself in the empty spaces between them. He can smell the lingering burn of the candle you’d lit when you got home. He picks it up off your dresser, reading the label: Cup ‘o Joe.

Eugh. He never cared for coffee, and the artificial sweetness surrounding the note is cloying. Your perfume, on the other hand, he doesn’t mind. He notices the bottle alongside a few other of your things and puts the candle down in favor of that, popping the cap off. The smell hits him before he sprays it: vanilla first, then amber and something more woodsy. It’s less impressive by itself than it had been on you.

Still, it’s yours. You chose it for yourself.

Slipping off one of his gloves, he lightly sprays into the inside of it before he sets the bottle back down, recapping it. It won’t be the same, but he’s driven by the compulsion to spirit away any little pieces of you that he can. Just enough to satiate himself until he can have you properly.

That’s when he sees your blouse from today in a careless heap at the top of your laundry basket next to your dresser. Licking his lips, he tests the feel of the garment between his bare fingers. He’s always been sensitive to fabrics, and while the blend of this one is fairly cheap, it’s been worn and washed enough that it’s soft against his skin. He grabs a handful of it and lifts it to his mouth, brushing it along his lips, under his nose, and he deeply inhales your lingering scent mixing with the fresh pump of perfume.

He bites back a moan, screwing his eyes shut. His cock gives a dull little throb. Fuck, the spell you’ve cast on him makes him ache just for the smell of you, makes him salivate. He swallows it back, letting out a rough little breath as he reluctantly puts the shirt back down. Under it, he spies a little flash of something black and lacy. His stomach clenches, and he’s reaching for it before he can stop himself, fishing the black panties out of the heap and twisting the fabric between his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t afford to overindulge. He won’t be able to control himself if he does, but he also can’t bring himself to put the little slip of fabric back down. He imagines he can almost taste where your sweet cunt had been pressed to it. Christ, he’s practically drooling. Out of sheer impulse, he yanks down the zipper of his pants with a quiet hiss of metal against metal and hastily pushes your underwear into his cup, biting down hard on his lip. He grinds once against his hand, savoring the feel of the fabric against his cock.

He’ll enjoy them far more than you’ll miss them.

Zipping himself back up, he carefully pulls open your top dresser drawer. He curiously pushes the contents around, mindful not to overly disturb, and his knuckles bump something solid. He shifts one of your bras–another near painful pang of arousal at the reminder of your breasts–aside and finds, to his delight, what any good marketing department would describe as “a large purple massage wand.”

A vibrator. He chews his bottom lip briefly, turning it over in his grip. An exciting find on all fronts. It’s smooth and decently hefty, good quality. You deserve even better. You might be capable of indulging yourself with this, but he could make you scream. You’ll never need a silly little toy again. Not when you have him.

Homelander moves to put it back in the drawer, but–

“Fuck!” He hisses when the button catches on his finger, and suddenly the damn thing is buzzing.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chants mentally, jabbing at the buttons in an attempt to silence it, but pressing the same ones only makes the accursed device louder. In a frantic move, he grips the neck and squeezes. There’s a soft crunch beneath the silicone, and as abruptly as it had begun, the buzzing ends. His heart is thudding heavily in his chest. He listens to the silence, to you.

He looks over his shoulder. No movement. Your breaths remain shallow.

Christ.

So much for leaving no trace. He slips the busted toy back amidst your underthings and snatches his glove off of your dresser, tucking it under his arm. He hones his attention on you as he approaches your bed, assuring himself that you really are still asleep. He stands there for a while, admiring the part of your lips and the haphazard splay of your pajamas and where they cling to your body.

No bra.

His bare hand flexes. Being so close is too much of a temptation. He wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. He ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. He can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. It's intoxicating, it's…

Your brows furrow slightly in your sleep and you make a soft noise, interrupting his thoughts. He wonders if you’re dreaming–dreaming of him, perhaps. He’d like to think so. He’d like to think that you’re just as affected by him wanting you as he is, and that’s the real reason you invited him to lunch. He saw it in your eyes when he echoed your words, the thrill that went through you. He could have gone to his knees for you in that moment and had you in giving himself to you.

Desperate for just a taste, he kisses ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. Divine. You're divine. So effortlessly perfect and so aware of your own power. How could he not want every part of you?

He means to leave it there, to walk away with nothing but the slight salt of your brow on his lips, but the pull is too great. He's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, on the feel of your panties pressed up against his cock, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his.

It’s the barest hint of touch, and yet the contact lances electricity through him like he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. Your lips are soft, soft, soft. He knew they would be. Everything about you is so fucking soft. It takes everything in him to pull away, standing back to his full height.

He's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake, declare himself and have you. Would you scream, or would you have that same look of affronted understanding of him? You see him in a way few are ever brave–or stupid–enough to dare.

Not yet.

He won’t spoil the game. He agreed to play by your terms. As far as you’re concerned, he’ll do precisely that. You’ll be none the wiser in regards to his little reconnaissance mission–anything could have happened to your vibrator–and the two of you can play your little game as if you stand on equal footing.

Sucking in a silent breath, Homelander leaves alone, but not empty handed.

He’ll make very good use of his little trophy tonight.

( chapter three )

#i have no self control ENJOYYYYY #praise me it's shocking i finished this so quickly #although it's not really finished bc i'm stretching it into 3 parts but #couldn't help myself i needed him to be a little weirdo #next chapter is already started tho and shouldn't take long!#ALSO I MADE THIS GIF #i'm so happy lol #my writing #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #homelander #plus size reader

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eloquentmoon · 2 years

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Smut Dialogue Prompts That Make Me Feral

1. “Let me see those eyes.”

2. "Open your mouth for me.”

3. “Please kiss me.”

4. “Use your words.”

5. “Tell me what you want.”

6. “You look so good beneath me.”

7. “You can take it.”

8. “I can take it.”

9. “You take me so well.”

10. “Spread your legs wider.”

11. “Louder. Let me hear you.”

12. “Keep your eyes on me.”

13. “Touch yourself.”

14. “Do you want my fingers?”

15. “I can’t get enough of you.”

16. “You taste so good.”

17. “Hands behind your back.”

18. “Swallow.”

19. “You are doing so well.”

20. “Breathe through your nose.”

21. “Don’t hold back.”

22. “Show me how much you need me.”

23. “Say my name.”

24. “You can do better than that.”

25. “Does that feel good?”

26. “I want you to ruin me.”

27. “Do you think you deserve this?”

28. “I want to have my way with you.”

29. “Touch me there. Right there.”

30. “I will never get enough of you.”

#feel free to send me these!!!#i am smut writing rn #you may recognise these from my fic lol i am a self indulgent little lady #can you tell i have a praise kink #smut prompts #writing prompts #prompts #writing #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #my prompts #brrrrrrr

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fubaoub · 21 days

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back in the trenches of de so i drew harry

#disco elysium #I've been having terrible art block for the past month or so #praise the lord that disco got me out of it LOL #i have more serious drawings but i need 2 finish them up #harry du bois

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cassberry · 10 months

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I hope Ren knows that there are people out there that love his King Ren character. He mentioned multiple times in his last few episodes (ep 40-41) that he doesn't want to stay as King Ren too long because people are probably sick of it, but I'm not!!

The King Ren arc/character was incredible! The well meaning man-turned-king slowly being corrupted by the diamonds he originally collected to help the server economy was amazing storytelling. His biggest opposition not being those against him, but those working for him was also so gripping to watch. The King's Court really earned their name as the drama kids lol it was so much fun!

Not only was the storyline amazing, but there was also the King's Quests and all the amazing builds not just by Ren but everyone else on the server. And then that finale! That labyrinth at the end that brought all the hermits together was such a thrill to watch.

I'm so glad that Cleo and Cub's museums are reminding him and us, the audience, how great King Ren was because he genuinely carried the beginning of the season. He made a memorable impact and I loved every second of it.

#hermitcraft #rendog #i've already ranted about this on hermbi lol but it just makes me so sad to think he thinks that no one likes his work #I LOVED IT #and yes it was just the red king but slighly not lol but i happen to love it was ren does a corrupt king character pfft #a curse upon those that told him rentheking was annoying >:(#im so happy the a majority of the comments on his latest video are praising king ren #berry.posts

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whaliiwatching · 2 months

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memes in defiance of valentine’s day

(blood & artistic nudity under readmore)

#spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #spider noir #hobie brown #noirpunk #hot bloody transmasc peter under cut #not doing anything risqué tho sorry lol #hobie brown’s spider getup includes four inch platforms thats why hes tall only when hes masked #otherwise theyre 5’8 which is still tall but not compared to their GIANT PARTNER whom they LOVE #did you know theyre so in love did you did you #that last no-color sketch is actually transfem peter but i dont think too many people will pick up on that #oh well. i do my work regardless of praise #(not true please love me)#these were a lot of fun and i do have more to post hehe #tw blood

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akkivee · 2 months

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inspired by veil

#ichiro yamada #kuko harai #naughty busters #hypmic #hypnosis mic #crazy how long it took me to finish these lol #idk if anything will ever come out of it or if it's even meant to be a thing lol but #kuukou emphasised the strength of mind when first training up jyushi on the hypnosis mics #you need to have a strong mind to break out of the true hypnosis mic's control and ichiro praises kuukou for that #kuukou for his part laughs that off and it's always struck me a bit weird #so what if it was less kuukou's mental strength and more kuukou's bond with ichiro that he still wanted that snapped him out of it #is the thought and reason for using the art meme lol kuukou missed ichiro basically lol #vee is arting

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carlyraejepsans · 3 months

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Hey, if you don’t mind the question. What’s your opinion on Undertale Yellow?

8/10 game. pretty good at being a game, not so much at being an undertale story. the gameplay itself was fun, the area/puzzle designs too, the soundtrack was untouchable it literally gave me the same rush i felt hearing sburb initiation for the first time. minor NPCs designs were fun but the primary cast was too monotonous, tbh. (all the main characters have tall gangly very detailed designs save for like, axis). its attempts at landing Undertale's humor were quite often successful, but it held back on exaggeration and caricaturing its original characters which took away that oomph from the canon game. the character writing was... lacking. which is a pity.

i love fucked up women so i was really disappointed that every single one of ceroba's actions/ideas/influences on the story were nothing but an extension of her dead husband. when you take chujin away she's just... A Good Wife and Mother. or starlo's past love interest ig. i mean both dalv and martlet's backstory were tied to her family and we never see them interact at all. but they do have an established dynamic.... with the dead husband. again. UGH. she's just really wasted as a character (she and chujin should've BOTH been scientists and she should've continued the project AGAINST his wishes after he died. she's the main cast character, she should be the driving force in the narrative, not him—even if chujin sets the plot in montion by inventing the serum first).

I'm not a huge asgore fan—not that i dislike him, he's just not a character i care about all that much—so congrats to this game for making me say "he would NOT fucking say that". the "fuck the royals" subplot thing was really unnecessary. actually, that was a bit of a recurring thing in the game. suddenly introducing these Huge Social Dilemmas like labor exploitation, anti-monarchic sentiments, misogyny (bro who on earth "needs to take a wife" this is Undertale) everyone realizing that clover is a child, over exaggerating the violence at stake... while also attempting to maintain Undertale's careless, bouncy treatment of the situation. that's... not how things work. undertale is able to maintain its light tone BECAUSE it doesn't let you take those topics seriously, they're not meant to be. the fairytale-like king, the battles, the child protagonist, they're all set dressings for the REAL story and REAL power imbalance it wants to highlight: that between player and game characters. everything is in function of that. you take that layer of separation and make everyone aware that theyre violently attacking and killing a literal child... that's not. a good thing dude. if it's not gonna impact the tone of the story, why acknowledge it in the first place? it's just unnecessary

anyway flowey neutral run was really, really fun. his dialogue writing all throughout the game was very solid and i had a blast having him around. however, they shouldn't have tried to anticipate his character development. this game is a prequel, you can't do that without undermining his arc in the canon events. pacifist should've had him doubling down on his frustration from the neutral ending. i do all this work for you keeping you alive and you make the same mistake i did sacrifice yourself for them??? are you BRAINDEAD???? what I'm saying is he basically should've thrown the biggest tantrum of his LIFE. oh and in the NM run he should've been terrified when he lost control of the SAVE file. this is the first time it's ever happened to him and now he's gonna die for good. he wouldn't have gloated like he did.

if you want to hear more criticism along the lines of what i said then this post by the fantastic @andreabandrea covers a lot of what i also felt during the game. i know this might sound like a lot of negativity, but the fact remains that UTY was an absolutely phenomenal work of fan creativity the likes of which we have never seen before in the fandom. considering the quality and polish, i thought it only fair to approach it as the piece of art it is and give it my genuine thoughts on the matter.

overall, still a really fun way to spend the afternoon with a pal. so. thumbs up

#it's just that. it is a product of fandom. with a lot of fandom shortcomings too #and seeing people praise it so wholeheartedly that they insinuate it surpasses the original #just reminds me once again that the majority of people have absolutely zero idea about what makes undertale 1) good 2) what it is #lol #answered asks #no word on the music i have the tag blacklisted because I'm tired of seeing it everywhere but not the music brother #i am listening to that shit 24/7 #turn it UP

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