#puss is me with my partners

[bi-pisces07]

Imagine in Shrek 5 the gang is looking for Puss cuz they need his help for the quest and there in a place when suddenly explosions go off and there’s chaos and music.

An cat laughing is ass off lands near them and is like “oh, hey guys! :3”

And everyone is just “whelp that was easy”

But then fireworks go off and cause another explosion and near them lands another cat??

Everyone is like “wtf” but Puss immediately gets heart eyes and goes “amor!!!❤️❤️❤️”

And now everyone’s mental health is going to have to deal with the fact that omg there’s two of them and where did that dog come from?

#I hc that puss and kitty have the potential to be the most chaotic gremlins together #they’re having an good time messing with the governor #and the crew are all having aneurisms #plsplspls I need them all to reunite in Shrek 5 #puss is smitten with kitty and I stand by that fact #absolutely whipped malewife #bi4bi couple #puss is me with my partners #puss in boots #Shrek #shrek franchise #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots 2 #shrek 5 #puss #kitty softpaws #perrito

[antennatoheaven]

i called my dad and talked for like an hour but he interrupted himself in the middle of a conversation to greet his cat by singing a little song to him which implies he does this frequently I love him so much :')

#bwaaaaaah i remember when he called 4 years ago like #“lilly there's a stray cat hanging around my house but i don't like cats what do i do” asking me for advice #he let me name him eddie (or edi in spanish). but i didnt tell him it was after eddie brock from venom #and he didnt find out until we went and watched venom 2 and he pointed out that venom looks like his cat (its a black cat) #and now he'll call me and start his conversations like “lilly. eddie went with me to check on the coffee plants he's such a good cat.” #“i should let him take care of the farm. he's a great partner/buddy. i'll get him some boots and a machete so we're matching” #“he'll be the colombian puss in boots” #<- rough translation of the convo we just had #and he told me that he gave him a coffee cup with a broken ear because he deserves his own coffee cup #and showed him drinking water from it #and it was the same coffee cup i drank from when i visited him #crying #ramblings

[helenapsent]

I've had a headcanon with mocfiths in my head for a very long time (the audience knows, I hope). It came to my mind when Margoshka told me about the catfish version of Maysky (a character from a Russian TV series)

After that, I had the idea of imagining a situation where Thriffith decided to go fishing with El Moco. They didn't have a good fishing trip, though, and that was because the moment El Moco arrived at the appointed time, at the bridge over the big lake, Thriffith caught a big fish…. or rather, it caught him. When Thriffith wanted to say hello, the fish twitched so hard that the grief-stricken assassin fell off the bridge into the water. El Moco had no time to do anything, he wanted to pull him out, but Thriffith is very stubborn and eventually fished this "something" out of the lake. He was holding the big catfish in his hands.

Thriff is proud of himself, bragging to El Moco, saying, "Look what a huge thing I've caught"! And the Bandit King looks at him as if he had done something wrong, as if he had done another stupid thing that made him feel bad.

Thriff: What? Moco: Now you're going to catch a cold because of that worthless fish. Thriff: Oh, that's silly! I have a pretty good immune system! Moco: I wouldn't make such rash judgments if I were you! Thriff: Not at all! *sneezes* Moco: There! That's what I'm talking about!

The bandit didn't listen to him any further, he just took the dead fish from him, put it on the ground, and suddenly began to take off his outer clothes. Thriffith stares at him stunned, he was ready for anything in the world, but not such an action. He asked the Bandit King what he was doing and why he was taking his clothes off, but El Moco just gave him his shirt and jacket (he didn't give him his vest, he put it back on) and told him to change his clothes so he wouldn't catch a cold.

There was nowhere to go, and Thriffith did as he was told: he changed into his comrade's shirt, which was too big for him. In fact, he was a little embarrassed by it. Still, El Moko was right and did the right thing. Thriffith was pleased that he had taken such care of him.

But that wasn't so bad! The shirt was warm, the jacket was warm too, so Thriffith wouldn't catch cold. And in the evening they cooked the catfish together and had a delicious dinner (UwU)

#the adventures of puss in boots #thriffith #el moco #mocfith #headcanons #helen thinks #I've finally poured my heart out #Here I can at least finish some of the lines that I didn't include in my post on Telegram #I so dislike my sense of shame #but I just know that my partner is on the channel and he doesn't share my hyper-fixation on men as much #which makes me feel really bad about it #Someday I will realize zen to the point where I don't care about shame #I'll just do everything in spite of others #But not today--

[dreamcast-official]

thinking about representation in terms of what characters sound like. 👍

#eli.txt #i dunno i dont wanna get out of bed yet so im just on my phone thinking. yknow. #nd like i remember i sent a crisis core cutscene to my partner and they! were so happy when they heard cloud's accent!! #and it made me think like. girl when have i ever heard an actual brazilian accent in anything. and it wasnt a joke. #AND I REMEMBER. FUCKIGN PUSS IN BOOTS 2. DEATH. HES BRAZILIAN. AND WE HAVE THE SAME ACCENT. #honestly im trying to let my accent through a bit more when i speak english bc i trained myself to hide it and i dont like that :( so #we'll see

[coyote-apologist]

.

#UPDATE #my partner does in fact like her #i told him that i like her too and have for months #she for sure likes him but idk if she likes me yet (unfortunate) #the three of us are hanging out tomorrow #we are gonna watch puss in boots and cuddle

[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Origin (1)

Summary: How you and Hazel and the fight club started. Also Hazel's Spider-Woman. But you don't know that.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of bruises and cuts, Idk what else

Word Count: 1508

Note: It's literally my first post. It may suck. I don't care. I don't get paid for this. I hope you do enjoy though, cause there's not enough Spider-Woman Hazel Callahan fics out here. Love yall - Bia <3

“You got paired up with (Y/N) for the ‘women murdered in history’ project?” 

Hazel nodded at Josie’s question. She had just left Mr. G’s class with PJ and Josie where he had introduced a new project to create a diorama based on a famous woman who was murdered. The partners were chosen by random, and to Hazel’s horror, she was paired up with you. 

Who just happened to be Hazel’s crush for 4. fucking. years.

Hazel had many moments of crises in her 18 years of life, which included getting bitten by a radioactive spider during sophomore year at a school field trip to the science fair, getting caught by Josie and PJ’s spider-trap (Where PJ wanted to catch Spider-Woman for her youtube channel with a net, and she actually managed to?) and Hazel had to reveal her secret identity, and her mother’s recent divorce with her minor-fucking, emotionally unavailable father. 

But none of them made Hazel as frantic as being paired with you for a school project. 

“Thats fucking amazing,” PJ said in jealousy. “How come that never happens with me and Brittany? I got paired up with that one emo kid who probably wants to blow up the school.” 

Hazel groaned, leaning her head against her locker. She was already tired from last night’s fight with a local bank robbery, which led to her face scratched and bandaged up today. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she was going to impress you. 

“Okay, well, you don’t look very happy considering you’re like, obsessed with her,” Josie commented. She was well used to Hazel’s constant remarks about how pretty you looked during class or how you made eye contact with her for 2 seconds. 

“I’m fucked. I just get so nervous around her,” Hazel replied, anxiety seeping out from her voice. “I have never really had a conversation with her other than, ‘hello’. If I can’t even talk to her properly, how am I going to do a whole project with her?” 

PJ rolled her eyes. “Hazel, why are you so worried? You literally swing down tall ass buildings and beat up tall ass criminals, and you can’t even talk to a girl that you like? Didn’t your spider powers give you like, enhanced everything?” 

“I’m pretty sure the whole point of Hazel’s secret identity is for you to not talk about it out in the open, PJ.” 

“I’m just saying, if I saved the neighborhood every night wearing a red and blue spandex lady gaga suit, I’d be getting so much puss right now.” 

The two continued to bicker as Hazel sighed. PJ was right. It was just a project. It wasn’t a big deal, it was only for a week, and she was certain you were straight anyways. All she had to do was just man up and talk to—

“Hazel?” 

Hazel jumped, turning around from her locker to see you standing with an alluring smile on your face. You wanted to talk to your project partner before the start of next class, who seemed to be very stunned at the sight of you. She looked like a puppy, with her widened blue eyes and her tousled brown hair. 

Hazel blinked rapidly and clutched her notebook, barely managing to reply with a small, “Hi.” 

“I don’t know if you remember me. I’m (Y/N),” You introduced yourself, starting to offer your hand but retracting immediately because you realized that you’re a high schooler and that it’s probably lame to shake hands in this day and age. “I’m partnered up with you for Mr. G’s class—” 

“-Yeah, I know who you are. (Y/N),” Hazel said, almost too quickly, causing her friends to hold in their laughter. “Mr. G’s project. Yeah– I can work on it. All of it, if you want.” 

“No, of course not, we can work on it together,” You laughed, before recognizing all the injuries on Hazel’s face. “By the way, you’re pretty bruised up. Are you okay?” 

Hazel instantly touched her bandages, feeling a bit embarrassed at her state. 

“’m fine. I just fell.” 

You frowned, staring intensely at Hazel’s face. “I don’t think you can get these cuts from falling.” 

“Well, some of them are from falling and some of them aren’t...” Hazel trailed off as you came closer, your face filled with genuine worry. You knew Hazel wasn't exactly popular, but you didn’t know she was bullied. Hazel slowly backed away, her heart beating out of her chest as her back made contact with her locker. 

Hazel's Face started to burn up, turning to Josie for help. Josie stuttered, “This is nothing, she just– she’s part of this— this club, and—”

“A club? What kind of club fucks up her face like this?” You interrupted, your hands reaching out and brushing Hazel’s bangs out of the way, carefully examining the bandages. “Is it like a fight club?” 

“Yes!” 

“No–” 

“-More like a women’s self defense club?”

You looked at the three girls who’ve provided different answers all at the same time.

PJ spoke up first. 

“Yes, we absolutely do have this club where girls fucking beat each other up and shit for… feminism. So that we can teach girls how to protect themselves from the evil male football players.” 

“You know how to fight?” You asked, staring at PJ who barely had any muscles.

“Yes. Because, We… went… to… juvie over the summer.” 

You blinked.

“...There’s also a serious lack of female solidarity in this school,” Hazel stiffly added. 

“Right. Okay, that’s fine, I guess,” You accepted. “Could I join?” 

“Yes. Absolutely!” PJ exclaimed, her face lighting up immediately. “You could bring your friends too. You know. Specifically your cheerleader friends. Specifically Brittany and Isabel.” 

Before you could question why specifically Brittany and Isabel, the bell rang to inform the students for the start of next class. 

“Okay, here—” You took the notebook Hazel was holding and quickly scribbled your number on one of the pages. “Message me so we can talk about the project. And the club. Is that okay?” 

You handed the notebook back as Hazel nodded, in denial that you just gave her your fucking phone number. You waved before running off to your next class, feeling happy that you had made a new friend. (haha friend…)

Meanwhile, Josie was losing her mind. 

“PJ, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“This is absolutely perfect!” 

“No, it’s not, PJ— we don’t have a feminist women’s self-defense fight club. You also don’t care about feminism. Your favorite movie is Entourage.” 

“Okay, first of all, shut up, and second, we can just make the club now, obviously. Come on– I just created the perfect opportunity for all of us to talk to Brittany, Isabel, and (Y/N)!” 

“Hazel, please tell PJ that she’s insane,” Josie turned to Hazel. 

Hazel grinned and said; 

“She gave me her number.” 

Josie groaned. “Congratulations! But we have a bigger problem now. We don’t know how to defend ourselves!” 

“Self-defense is common sense. You try to punch me in the face. I stop it from happening. Whatever, I don’t care, it’s easy,” PJ shrugged, holding a MMA fighter stance and started throwing air punches. 

“Yeah, maybe for Hazel, who literally has the… spider tingles? Hazel tingles?”

“Please do not start calling it Hazel tingles.” 

“And let’s not forget, you literally have superhuman strength,” Josie cautioned. “If we do this— very big if, we just run the biggest risk of exposing you and your spider identity. One wrong punch and you’ll send a girl to the hospital.”  

PJ turned to Hazel and grabbed her by the shoulders. 

“Hazel, listen to me. We teach a bunch of girls how to defend themselves against the evil high school fuckboys. They are grateful to us. Adrenaline is flowing— next thing you know, Isabel, Brittany, and (Y/N) are kissing us on the mouths!” 

Hazel paused. “I don’t know. Like Josie said, it’s a huge risk. The last thing I’d want to do is put (Y/N) in danger.”

A sardonic smile played on PJ’s lips. She tapped on Hazel’s notebook.

“Hazel, she gave you her number.”

Hazel stood, her mind racing once again. PJ’s idea of starting a self-defense club was dangerous, she knew that. She would be gaining attention all while showing off her fighting skills, which is what she had been hiding for years. Josie’s warning echoed in her mind. But then she remembered the way you had looked at her, with darling concern in your eyes when you asked about her injuries. She hadn’t had anyone worry for her like that in a while. 

Hazel took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Josie cried.

“She said okay! It's an okay! We’re doing this!” PJ screamed, grabbing Hazel’s hand and pulling her towards the school’s office to create the club. “We’re going to lose our virginities this year! This is the year!”

“Okay, but who’s going to be crazy enough to even advise this club?” Josie yelled after them, but the two were long gone.

Next Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #josie bottoms #pj bottoms #hazel callahan spiderwoman #hazel callahan x you #bottoms (2023)

[carmyboobear]

Stress Management (Carmy Berzatto x Reader)

Rating: Explicit, MDNI🔞 (~700 words)

Summary: Carmy comes home from work so stressed he can hardly think. When he gets home, he sees his partner on the couch, and something clicks. He needs them, and it needs to happen now.

Content Tags: oral (v), rough sex, loud sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, they/them reader, afab reader

A/N: Had this sitting in my drafts, so I spruced it up a bit. Stressed guy like Carmy needs some SERIOUS relief… enjoy <3

Carmy feels like breaking something.

His ears are ringing, listening to echoes of screams at work that refuse to fade away. His body is tight with tension, and all he can think about is seeing them.

He needs to see them.

He almost slams the door open in a rush to get home. They’re laying on the couch in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear, hair splayed on on the cushions. They perk up when they hear him entering.

“Carmy!” They chirp, smiling like the sun, and upon seeing his face, it grows serious. “Everything ok?”

“Work fucking sucked,” he mutters irritably. He’s walking briskly over. They’re finally right in front of him.

“Do you wanna ta—“ they’re halfway through their sentence before Carmy pulls them into a bruising, wet kiss.

“I want to eat you out, and then fuck you a couple times,” Carmy says lowly when he pulls back. Their kissed lips are parted in surprise. “Then I’ll tell you about today. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” they agree without hesitation, and he immediately pulls their underwear off.

With two forceful hands, Carmy spreads their legs wide by the inside of their thighs before swooping his head down between them. He wastes no time in bullying their clit with his tongue, using the tip to push it out and into his mouth. He starts sucking their clit immediately, cheeks hollowing at the tightness, and they keen.

Their moans are sweet and sharp like a strong mixed drink, and he’s intoxicated on the noise. He knows how messy he’s being, spit stains already dripping onto the couch cushions, but it doesn’t matter at all.

He sucks their clit in a brutal rhythm so quick that they come quickly, wetting themself on his chin pushed into their cunt. He relishes in the feeling of them covering his face, of their twitching clit between his sucking lips. And because he doesn’t want to bother, he pulls back, shoving his pants and underwear off just enough to get his hard cock out. Without any prep, he lines up and pushes in as they ride out the last couple waves of their orgasm. They make a wounded noise, a guttural moan.

“Carmy—fucking, shit—“ They’re gasping for air, hands scrambling to hold onto him as he starts pounding into them. They’re so wet from their orgasm, but still so deliciously tight.

“Be good and take it, just fucking take it,” Carmy whispers, leaning in close to them, and they whimper helplessly.

He remembers the anger from work, the frustration coursing through his body like lightning, the rage jetting from his ears like steam. He thinks about it every-time he fucks forward, slamming his hips against theirs, every time he thrusts brutally into their tight, stretching pussy.

“You’re coming, aren’t you? Why aren’t you letting me hear it?” Carmy asks. Their palm’s covering their mouth when they come for the first time on his cock, and he pries it off by grabbing their wrist and pinning it. They don’t try to cover their mouth again, instead just moaning so loud the next apartment over is bound to complain. “Fuck, th-that’s good. That’s better. I love, fuck, hearing you like this, always gotta let me hear you, gonna make me come—“

He makes them come one more time on his cock before he finishes inside them. Or maybe it was just an extension, instead just one really long orgasm—he wasn’t quite able to tell. They cry through it, weeping and moaning into the crook of his neck. They’re ruined, undone by the release of his pent up frustration.

He closes his eyes and listens to them cry out as he comes hard in their pussy. Their come dribbles down his shaft and the curve of his tightened balls. It’s so good it almost hurts, the pleasure acute and overwhelming. It’s like breaking a high fever, filling the gauge on a thermometer until it shatters.

“Carm…” Their voice is scratchy from how loudly they were moaning. They’re both coming down, panting in each other’s arms. Their tired arms connect behind his back under his shoulders. “Don’t pull out yet…”

“Mm, okay,” he murmurs, softening cock warmed by their wet pussy. Besides, there’d be a bigger mess if he pulled out. He wraps his arms around them and kisses their sweaty forehead. “You did so good, baby. Took me so well, just what I needed.”

And it’s true. He doesn’t even remember what made him so mad in the first place.

#carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto smut #my smut #my blurbs #idk if I wanna count this as a fic…. it’s titled but whatever #anyway I’ve been wanting to post this for a while and finally just decided to do it #enjoy!

[bits-and-babs]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐑 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

summary: When Ellie is taken by David, Joel breaks open the part of him locked away since his hunter days. As the guilt eats him alive, you try to help him subdue the black dogs of mental warfare.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: Very 18+. It’s giving morally-grey Joel. Depiction of gore, violence, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of David that is a warning in itself. Very vague insinuation of SA as shown in the game. Discontent for Christianity (don’t like, don’t read my dude). Angst, guilt. Hurt-comfort. P in v sex, unprotected sex.

authors note: This got so dark it actually caught me off guard! I am so incredibly proud of this piece. I started it 5 whole weeks ago, and spent up until the night of posting (March 5th) editing and retouching. I hope it does Winter, my favourite part of the game, proud.

tease: “I jus’ need to be close to you.”

Continuous dripping sounds from the radiator, drip, drip, drip. Globs of blood seep down the grooves of the heater, falling when the droplets reach the edge and settling in a pool of coagulated gore. A headless body leans left, slumping against the metal the handcuffs chain it to. What’s left of its skull plasters the walls, the ceiling, and the steel pipe discarded in its lap.

Another lifeless body lays strewn sideways, the chair it’s tied to thrown haphazardly across the floor. Its neck is angled awkwardly; its eyes rolled back so only the whites show.

When you manage to tear your eyes away from the carnage, you can still hear the panicked shouts of the captives before Joel slaughtered them, rattling inside the cavern of your skull. Joel’s callous answer rings in your ears.

“Fuck you, man. He told you what you wanted. I ain't telling you shit!”

“That’s alright. I believe him.”

Snowflakes stick to the window of the home Joel had appropriated as a slaughterhouse, the wooden planks weathered and falling apart after years of neglect. The cold creeps in through the holes in the ceiling and the gaps in the wood, but you find yourself doubting the chill responsible for the goosebumps littering your arms.

Inhaling slowly, you will yourself to speak, but the words die in your throat before they even form on your lips, melting away on your tongue. Your pleas for reason would fall on deaf ears, and you know it—Joel’s far beyond reasoning with.

He’s pacing up and down the room, the floorboards creaking under the weight of his boots as he studies the map gripped between his imbrued knuckles. It’s unlike him, you note, to be so rattled. In the years you’ve known Joel, his steadfast resolution had been comforting, a certain. Not now. The men he’d butchered had mentioned details you could only describe as buzzwords that had Joel’s survivor alarm bells ringing.

David’s newest pet. The Town. Cannibals.

Heaving breaths he expels from his lungs vaporise in the air, still catching his breath from pummelling radiator-man’s brains out. If you couldn’t hear the wheezing in his chest from his laboured respiration, you could damn well see it.

Stepping forward, you wince when the floorboard beneath you creaks. “Joel—“

“They got Ellie, Darlin’,” your partner leaps into an eerily calm rundown of the dire situation despite you having been in the room for the entire interrogation. “They got Ellie, an’ they’re gonna kill her.”

Nodding slowly, you reach across the small distance between you to hold onto Joel’s bicep. Blood splatters the fabric of his brown winter coat, and you can feel his body heat radiating beneath the layers of cloth as his body fights infection. The gaping wounds in his back and stomach from the protruding rebar he was impaled on, thanks to a scuffle with a looter at the university, have stopped weeping puss. However, Joel was still largely incapacitated by the pain — despite the feral display of resilience against these two bandits.

“I know—” you try to ease him, but Joel’s buzzing with adrenaline.

“I gotta go get her; you can’t stop me doin’ this, Darlin’ I have’ta-“

“I know,” you speak firmly, and Joel stops dead in his tracks, clearly not having expected you to green-light his suicide mission, “I know I can’t stop you, which is why I insist upon going with you.”

You expect Joel to make a scene, to lose his temper and tell you that you weren't going anywhere, that it was far too dangerous and losing either of you would crush him. You know about Tess; Ellie told you everything when you joined them in Pittsburgh. She detailed Joel's heartache, despite his desperate attempts to appear indifferent. It's times like these that you can't blame him for being overprotective, knowing he had lost so much.

However, your expectations are not met. Joel looks at you, the whites of his eyes tinted red, and the skin beneath shadowed dark with exhaustion. He nods slowly, evidently realising he cannot compete with an army of cannibal bandits single-handedly with the state he’s in. He surrenders.

Wordlessly, Joel grabs your backpack and begins to sift through the items within. Apparently, he decides you don't have enough ammo, sacrificing his El Diablo pistol and offering it to you.

You accept it without fuss, knowing damn well that leaving with him is out of his comfort zone. Making a scene would make him change his mind.

It doesn't take long for Joel to spread out your limited supplies. Within five minutes, he's lifting his heavy backpack onto his shoulders with an agonised groan. You move out silently, Joel holding the door open for you as you step out into the blizzard.

You hear the frozen grass and layers of snow crunch beneath the rubber soles of Joel’s boots. You set your whole life to the pace of each of his steps, a monotonous metronome. Sometimes, on hot days in the summer, you can smell the rubber melting on the tarmac if you stand still for too long.

It’s bizarre, especially as he guides you into a death trap with an unknown sum of threats, but you find yourself thinking you’d be happy for him to lead you anywhere.

-✩-

Snowflakes cling to your eyelashes, eyes weeping from the cold and freezing the coarse hairs together. It's so cold that you’re convinced that the tears that develop as a result of the stinging cold freeze before they can drip down your cheeks.

Even without the natural eyelash glue, it's hard to see Joel ahead of you in the chaos of the bandit’s town. The blizzard has intensified, casting a light grey fuzzy haze over what you can see— or rather, what you can't. You're not even sure that the shadowy figure in front of you is Joel, but you're too afraid to ask in case a stranger turns around and shoots you in the stomach.

When you and Joel arrived, it was pandemonium already, armed bandits practically running into you as they attempted to reach their battle stations. The whistling of the wind muffles gunshots, and the bell from the church tower rings deafeningly loud across the snow plains in warning. What exactly had happened, you are unsure, but what you do know is that the cracking of the bronze bell will draw in runners from miles away.

You had to find Ellie. Quickly.

"You all right?" Joel calls out above the din, his Texan accent a welcome relief. It takes you a second to find your voice, the cold having momentarily stolen it.

"Yeah!" You shout back, trembling fingers grasping tightly to your gun.

There is a roaring sound on the wind, rising in volume as you continue to trudge blindly through the snow. The gunshots are more frequent now, yet still too far away to be a threat to you. You wonder if Ellie is raising hell or if the infected have already arrived. Neither scenario was good.

An orange glow peers through the blanket of falling snow that distorts your vision. You'd noticed the flaming barrels as you wandered through the town, but this was different. It was huge. The closer you got to it, the clearer the sound met your ears. It was crackling, wood-burning and billowing acrid black smoke.

Joel whistles, the pitchy sound catching your attention over the deafening thunder of the fire. You can't see his expression, but you can vaguely make out his silhouette pointing toward the building swallowed by flames. You were going in.

One step forward and the blaze is singeing your freezing skin, burning the peach fuzz on your face. You swear you can smell your eyebrows smoking, the flames so strong that you're almost scared to step into the building.

Despite your concerns for the integrity of the structure, Joel is quick to pursue the only lead he has to Ellie. He feels blindly all along the entrance, hissing as his palms come into contact with red-hot glass panes. It's a wooden door inset by small rectangular windows. The frame is deep brown and littered with orange, glowing embers embedded within the grain. You're scared, and open your mouth to dissuade Joel from doing anything rash. He doesn't give you the opportunity.

His shoulder slams into the weakened, charred door without hesitation, the windows falling from their frames and shattering on the wooden floor. The blazing heat inside the building wafts over you, causing sweat to bead at your brow.

Desperate, Joel pushes through and stumbles into the building, which you now discover is a diner. The smoke burns your lungs, and your eyes sting so much that you're almost blinded by the tears prickling your waterline. The dark grey clouds are so thick that you're suffocating, unable to take in any oxygen. Had it not been for the noises piercing through the terrifying roar of the fire, you would have aborted the entrance in fear of asphyxiation.

High-pitched grunts of exertion and the sound of metal slamming into wood catch Joel's attention. He looks up, alarmed by the noise and yet scrambles towards it despite the danger.

"Ellie!" Joel shouts out, running on adrenaline as he rushes forward. You let out a sob of relief, knowing that Joel has eyes on her, but the consolation doesn't last long.

When you catch sight of her, you find Ellie in a blind rage. Her bloodied hands hold onto a machete handle with a white-knuckled grip, raising the weapon above her head and bringing it down into the mess of the fractured skull and smashed brains of the body below her. Blood sprays across her face with the sheer force with which she plunges the blade into the meaty mess, tears of fury leaving tracks in the crimson on her cheeks.

"Stop! Stop," Joel wraps his forearms around Ellie’s chest, dragging her away from the mutilated body to a chorus of devastatingly broken ‘no's’. Ellie screams, fighting Joel’s grip and clawing at his arms in an attempt to free herself.

"Don't fucking touch me!" She sobs as Joel hushes her, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her to his chest in a desperate attempt to prove to Ellie that she is safe. He sets her in front of him, forcing the broken young girl to look at him and recognise him.

"It's me," he speaks firmly, trying to access the rational part of her brain as he holds her still, his palms settling on her bloodied cheeks and inevitably smearing the ruddy liquid across her skin. "Look, look. It’s me."

Her tearful gaze settles on Joel, still in a panic as she searches his face. It takes her a moment, but relief swallows her expression and she practically falls into Joel's embrace.

“Oh,” she sobs out, eyes falling to the blood-streaked floor as the shock kicks in, “He tried to-“

“Oh, Baby Girl…” He murmurs brokenly, clinging to her as though he feared the world would snatch her from him again if he didn’t hold her in a vice-like grip. “It’s okay. It’s okay….”

“Joel…” Ellie sobs, burying her face into his chest and soaking his already bloodied clothes with yet more gore and tears. Joel presses his head to hers, repeatedly murmuring that it was okay, that he had her.

As Joel speaks to Ellie, you allow them this delicate moment of solitude. Of course, you were part of this family, but the bond Ellie and Joel shared far outweighed anything you could offer. A found father-daughter relationship that filled the holes in each other's hearts. It wasn’t your place to intrude.

Casting your teary eyes to the ceiling, you catch sight of a rudimentary hanging sign made from a white mattress topper. Scrawled upon it in mostly black paint, the lettering bulky, and only one word is written in scarlet.

“WHEN WE ARE IN NEED, HE SHALL PROVIDE!”

Bile rises in your throat as you take in the quote reminiscent of bible scripture. It turns your stomach, knowing what this man would have done, what the town no doubt did do to others, all while justifying it with thinly veiled Jesus worship.

It was an odd realisation, one that left you feeling quite numb as Joel helped Ellie from her knees. The comprehension that for the past 20 years, humanity had been coming together to fight the Cordyceps virus in the hope of removing the scourge and returning to normal life. Instead, the happenings in the diner, in this town, proved that the Cordyceps virus had little impact on the real plight.

That humans, people, are the true sickness.

-✩-

You are fearful at first that Ellie wouldn't be able to sleep after the trauma of her ordeal. She had, at first, been delicate on the journey back to the cabin that Joel had been recuperating in since his accident. Exhibiting signs of shellshock, she refused to elaborate on anything she had seen or heard during her captivity, and both you and Joel decided it best to leave her to unpick her thoughts in her own time.

The brass bells in the cannibal town had drawn the attention of a ginormous pack of runners, and you were scared that Ellie would be unable to find it in her to fight for her life.

However, as Ellie often did, she proved you wrong. Perhaps that is why she retreated to a dream world the moment her head touched the pillow. The sound of her steady breathing is the only noise permeating the silence that had settled in the cabin basement.

Joel retreats into the shadows when Ellie finds sleep. Leaning his back against the rough brick wall, he groans in agony as he sinks into a half-comfortable position. You watch him settle, eyebrows pinching together as you witness him fall back into the blackest corners of his mind.

You hesitate. You've only ever seen Joel like this once, distraught by the deaths of Henry and Sam after barely reaching freedom beyond the Pittsburgh Bridge. He had withdrawn into himself for weeks, the guilt eating him alive despite not belonging to any of you.

The black dog of mental warfare was a friend you knew Joel had come to know well. Before Sam and Henry, there was Tess, his hunter days, and of course, Sarah. Each time, the darkness would require him to carry a heavy burden of culpability despite his lack of fault.

"I'm glad," Joel's gruff voice cuts through the silence. He sounds broken, battling an insidious infection that you can't see. Similar to the Cordyceps virus, it encroaches on his mind, turning it against him. “I'm glad she killed him."

Again, you withhold your innermost thoughts as Joel battles to admit his feelings. He looks up at you, resting against the opposite wall. His expression is cold, but his eyes reflect a tragic pain within him.

“I’m relieved she killed him. Because I dunno what I would’a done.”

The black dog has returned, settled at Joel’s feet, and with it the guilt lands in his lap.

"Joel," you whisper, rising to your feet and approaching your crestfallen partner with delicate steps, "It’s not your fault."

Shaking his head Joel refuses to acknowledge your exoneration, beginning to launch into a tirade of self-hatred. "No. No, if I'd‘ve-"

You interrupt him, a firmness quite unlike you seeping into each syllable. "It's not your fault."

This time it appears to strike home, Joel slowly nodding his head in acceptance as you sink to the floor with him, resting your head on his shoulder as you settle beside him for warmth. The following silence isn't as emotionally charged. Joel appears to find comfort in your embrace. The black dog slinks out of the room through the crack in the open door.

You gently press kisses to the soft expanse of skin peeking from underneath Joel’s collar. It's a comfort, one that you regularly award Joel before sleep. He tilts his head in the opposite direction, offering you further access to the skin layering his jugular.

Without question, you continue to pepper his skin with endearment. He wasn't one to regularly ask for it, so you took this as a sign that Joel required some tenderness right now.

"’m sorry," he mumbles, embarrassed by his needy behaviour, “'m just-“

"You don't have to explain anything," you whisper, the curve of your lips dragging against his pulse point as you speak to him. He hums deep and low, eyes slipping shut as you continue your ministrations.

Achingly slowly, you drag lips across his jugular, pressing kisses to spots on his neck that you know are reactive. The soft valley behind his ear, the curve of his jaw, the junction between his neck and his shoulder. They all receive your affection, and you begin to hear Joel's breathing labour ever so slightly.

Joel’s infectious fever bleeds into something akin to fervour, his ribcage rising and falling with heavier, unsteadier breaths. His eyelids flutter closed, the searing, sour pain blending with the pleasure that sparks in him when your lips brush over his pulse point.

“Darlin’-“ He whispers, and it’s utterly broken. Pitchy and cracking in his throat when your fingertips work at his shirt buttons to expose more of his clavicle. His hands are settling on your hips as you swing your thigh over his lap slowly, thumb pads sweeping over your hip bones in delicate patterns.

“What is it you need from me, Joel?” You murmur softly, nose nudging at the bottom of his throat, at the v where his collar bones meet.

“F-Fuck,” he chokes, eyes cast skyward as he attempts to piece the broken pieces of his mind back together and find an answer. “I jus’ need to be close to you.”

He thought he’d lost Ellie. Thought he’d find her strung up with pieces of her flesh scattered about an unsanitary butcher's room. No doubt his mind was spinning with all the possibilities. What if you’d been shot trying to get her back?

Joel needed to be confident you were alive. Needed to feel your pulse thrumming against his palm.

“I can do that,” you promise him gently. You never pledged anything to Joel; nothing was certain. However, right now, you could offer your word. Could swear to ease his trepidation.

“I’m here.” Your words are spoken with conviction, his head nodding slightly as you take his wrist in your hand. “You can feel it. Come here.”

Delicately, you lay his bloodied, trembling hand across your chest. He lets out a quivering breath through his nose when he feels the thump of your heart against the lifeline of his palm.

Your free hand settles on the brass button holding his jeans together, popping it open and exposing the trail of dark, greying hairs that trail down his naval. His eyes flicker to your own, chapped lips parting slightly as you pinch the zipper and drag it down with a quiet ‘zzzp’.

The thud against his palm picks up the momentum as you feel him harden beneath the denim of your jeans, and you catch his lips pull up. A short, single scoff of disbelief- relief- as you gently work the jeans down and over his hips.

“Does this old man really do it for you that much?” He whispers, his fingerprints teasing the stitches of your collar. Your flannel is worn, threadbare and velvet soft, and your skin is burning hot beneath. “Even greyin’ and broken like I am?”

“Joel,” you whisper, pressing a delicate, lengthy kiss to his forehead, between his eyebrows. Fumbling with your cargo pants, you have them over your ass in no time, dragging your panties along with them. “You are the only man alive that makes me feel this way.” Your lips brush against the creases on his brow; frown lines etched deep into his skin after years of misery.

“Mhm,” his rich, oak eyes drag down your form as he watches you undress and expose your soaked cunt, thighs glistening wet in the low lighting. “That ain’t hard when most of the population died out.”

“Joel,” you repeat with a less-tempered tone, nose nudging at his hairline as you wrap your fingers around his length. He grunts quietly, careful to smother any loud noises to avoid drawing Ellie’s attention. “There wasn’t anyone before outbreak day, either.”

“Not even that actor-… What was his name, George Cloo-oh fuck,” his stupid joke dies on the tip of his tongue when you slowly sink down onto the head of his cock, walls fluttering around the stretch of him. His voice is hoarse, whisper breaking into silence as he slowly pushes the crown of his head into the terracotta brick walls.

“No,” you chuckle softly, watching him struggle for logical thought as you take more of him, and slip him further in. “No, not even him.”

Joel grunts, digging his teeth into his lower lip as you take him to the hilt. He nudges your cervix in this position, the sensation almost like a mild bruise, but you love it. Love that it will match the hickeys he leaves on your shoulders- marking you inside and out. Claiming you as his, Death and His black dog be damned.

“Oh C-Christ,” he lilts, and it sounds like a whimper as you squeeze around him, “I can feel it. Can feel your pulse-“

“See? I told you I’m alive,” You muse, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as you slowly begin to grind your hips forward in a circle. Joel just nods dumbly, his previously pale cheeks flushed slightly.

No bouncing, no thrusts. Joel is too fragile, his immune system fighting a nuclear war inside of him as his white blood cells try to secure the perimeter of the wound in his abdomen. You focus on rolling your hips instead, slowly inching off his cock and sinking back down onto his velvety length.

“Hoh- uhng, fuck-“ his illegible groans make your heart batter his meta-carpel bones, compelling him to acknowledge your vital signs and their optimal function.

He’s twitching inside you, the slow rise and fall of your hips forcing him to feel you stretch around each ridge and pulsing vein of his cock. Joel looks like he could break down, the sensation of his building orgasm such an overwhelming sensation in his already exhausted body.

Pushing your fingers through his soft curls, you clasp the back of his skull and lean forward to hold his face to your chest. He can hear it loud and clear now, the shell of his ear cupping the cavity of your chest where your heart batters against his cheekbone. His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you as tight as his septic-fatigued muscles can hold you.

It doesn’t take much for you to work yourself into your own fever. Joel’s cock always manages to find that spark inside you, nudging it and coaxing your orgasm to bloom between your thighs.

“M’gonna cum,” he rasps against your chest, his hot breath fanning across your skin. Joel’s pressing sloppy, clumsy kisses there, exhaling heavily with each roll of your hips.

“Mhmm-“ you muffle your cry by biting your knuckles, focusing on the clench of your walls and the buzz of your orgasm surging up through you. It’s like a whirlpool, pulling you under and drowning you in the wave of bliss that overtakes you.

Joel’s follows almost immediately after, his whole body tending despite the pain as it pulses through him, his cum painting your insides. His hips stutter, burying deep within you and letting out a ragged breath of relief that edges into a moan of your name.

Passing carbon dioxide between you, your foreheads press together as your breath fans over each other's faces. His eyelashes flutter with exhaustion, and you can feel them tickle the peak of your cheekbones. It’s so tender, so unlike Joel.

“I won’t let him take you.” His voice is so quiet the words almost don’t form, just barely leaving his throat in a sigh. His hand, not having left its rooted spot above your left breast, slowly inches towards your throat. You feel his index finger prod at your pulse, sealing his conviction that you are safe.

In honesty, you’re unsure who he means. Death, probably. David is long gone, but Joel’s fever is tipping him closer to delirium than reality.

One thing was for certain; you had managed to stave off the Black Dog for now. It lay at the doorway, stuck beyond the threshold it was forbidden to pass over, waiting until Joel allowed it back inside.

END

@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina @pedrosprincess @inklore

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#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller oneshot #joel miller tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #the last of us #the last of us smut #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #david tlou #1k+ club

[webslingingslasher]

your angst satisfies the part of me that loves to hurt my own feelings :,) i was wondering if you could write another argument fic? maybe including florence pugh’s “stop it you’re being mean” line from little women?

i feel like she's lacking.... but i dont know where.

“If we’re really being honest here, honey, I don’t think that’s what it’s about, at all.”

Peter could be real condescending at times. 

“Oh, please let me know what I’m thinking, you love to project it!” 

“You do this all the time! You always start something when it’s really about another, but you’re too chicken shit to say it!” 

“Look out! Here comes the fucking hero, don’t worry it’s his kink to fix everything so you’re endowed to him forever!” 

That just cut deep for him, it’s one to call him out, it’s another to attack his character. 

“That’s a low blow, even for you. It’s not my fault you can’t say sorry, you know you were wrong.” Peter pointed at you with each statement. 

He was right, it was a low blow. But he’s not making this easier, you know you’re wrong but if you admit defeat he will get to wear this prideful smirk that would make you rather suffer through the fight. 

“Maybe I could admit when I’m wrong if you didn’t get so amused by it.” You cross your arms and blink toughly, Peter frowns a little. 

“I don’t do that,” his tone is taken aback, and maybe if you weren’t so self involved at the moment you could see Peter was done fighting, it had moved off topic and now you were just pummeling him. 

“Oh yes you do! You love when I say I’m wrong cause then you get to wave your arrogant little face around!” Why are you doing this? It’s making it worse, why are you treating him this way? You’re only hurting him further. 

“You’re getting off topic, we’re not talking about me right now.” He’s trying to fix your derailment, also save himself from more beratement. 

“Maybe we should, cause now that we’re talking I have some things to say.” This was coming from nowhere, why were you so upset? It was a fight over nothing, even Peter called it, it wasn’t about that at all. 

“Do we have to do it now? When you’re all riled up from me being upset with you, and you know you’re going to say things you’ll apologize for later?” Peter does have reasoning, and he is right, but why does he always think he’s right. 

“Yeah! Because, because, you’re entitled.” You point at him like a child. 

“How am I entitled?” 

“You think you’re always right! I can never disagree or hold my own opinion, you just command and expect me to do. And you’re always making those judgy eyes at me, like right now! You think I’m wrong right now.” 

Peter sighs, “yeah, I do. We should take a breather, maybe take some space.” 

You scoff, “yup, typical Peter. Let's just run from our problems like you always fucking do, because our problems are not our problems, you make them my problem.” 

Peter just can’t help but blink at you, he’s about to walk out. He doesn’t know if that's treacherous territory yet. 

“Y/N, you really need to cool it.” 

Somehow his calmness makes it worse, he’s playing chill because he knows he’s right. Maybe that’s what it is. 

“Mr. Know it all is here! He knows what’s best for our relationship at all times, he better keep me in line! If he doesn’t all these other guys can take me from a puss-” 

His voice is loud and sharp, the extremely rare tone he takes up with you. 

“Stop it, you’re being mean.” 

And somehow that works, you weren’t being angry, you weren’t defending your space, you weren’t protecting your own back, he wasn’t spitting fury back, you were just being plain ol’ mean. And for what? 

Your tone is taken aback, you nearly stutter. 

“Am I?” 

Gruff tone, still upset. “Very.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why.” 

“No, I think you do.” 

“I was wrong, and I knew it. And so did you, and I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of being right. You always win the fights, I never do.” 

Peter’s shoulders slump, “you don’t win fights by hurting and belittling your partner.” 

You blink at tears, you just berated him and you feel bad? Get it together. 

“I didn’t mean it! I promise, I was just making shit up.” 

He leaned up against a wall, “I gotta be honest, baby, that doesn’t make me feel better. You didn’t even believe what you were saying, you just wanted to hurt me.” 

Peter backed you into a corner, he was right.

You shake your head back and forth, “I know. That’s really, really shitty on my end. I wasn’t thinking right, I don’t want to be mean towards you, ever.” 

He looks you up and down, you do look downright apologetic, you look like you feel terrible. 

“Good, do it again and I’ll cry. Now come give me a hug, meanie.  

#peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker mcu #tasm peter x reader #my writing

[dairy-farmer]

Kryptonian Alien Dick? owo

But like? THINK about it? Kon learning he got Clark's dick type instead of a human one. On earth it ISN'T "supposed to look like that". Freaking out and uncertain, he goes to His Bro.

We talking tentacle grabbers and big ol scuoopy ridges n nubs. To get rid of Rival seed and stimulate their partner. Different shape and everything.

And Tim? Well know he HAS to know. You can just burst into his room, in a panic, shove your pants off, show him THAT, and then NOT let him feel it inside him.

And? It is? The single most "light up my nerves endings like a Christmas tree and leave me drooling stupid" orgasm of him life? Those little aliens tentacles found his clit and did NOT hold back. Kon could RUB his g spot with his fucking DICK.

He should totally lie. He won't, because Kon is his Bro. But he WANTS too, to hoard that dick forever. Luckily! Tim's puss game is amazing. Kon has decided they are Bros+ now. Dating addition. They should celebrate.

With fuuuuckin'~

-🐼

👀kon immediatly going to tim to help him with his problem of alien dick. the two of them immediatly testing it out and deciding to become possessive over the other because there's no way they're losing out on it 👀

#asks #answered asks #anonymous

[mxomo]

little thief ♡︎ bokuto kōtarō

You catch Bokuto with something he shouldn't have in his pocket. c/w: panty sniffing, degradation, lil shy perv bokuto a/n: happy valentine's day everyone, enjoy boyfriend bokuto ԅ(≖⌣≖ԅ)

Bokuto is a little sneak perv and nobody can tell me otherwise

Absolutely loves pissing you off in bed, whether by being a tease or being a sexual deviant

Definitely sniffs your panties when you’re not looking. Has been doing this the entire duration of your relationship

You know how much the man starves for the puss but no idea as to the actual level of attachment he had for yours in particular

It wasn’t until one particular incident that you later realised a pattern of panties disappearing and reappearing on the same timeline as your partner’s work schedule (￣▽￣)

“Why are my favourite panties in your pocket?”

You knew you hadn’t been seeing things when you saw a little flash of purple emerging from Kōtarō’s jacket pocket. Purple wasn’t a colour often found in his colour palette, and you’d been looking for your favourite pair of lace bootyshorts. The cheek of him.

You stared expectantly at your boyfriend, raising a brow as you waited for him to speak. It was rare that you saw your overly confident other half quiet, so you knew he must’ve really been embarrassed if his silence and pink cheeks were anything to go by. Bokuto wasn’t expecting to get caught, after all, and with his tendency to have an incredibly big mouth, he supposed it would be best to not say anything at all.

“You were going to sniff them,” you said matter-of-factly.

Bokuto shook his head ‘no’, even though he knew you’d see right through it. He wasn’t sure why he was denying it, considering how incredibly fucking obvious it was, but his embarrassment at getting caught stopped him from being honest.

“What, you were gonna take my worn panties and you’re telling me you weren’t going to be smelling them? You’re a liar and a little pervert. Who knew?” You shoved the panties you’d found over his head, making sure to drag the crotch area to cover his nose. “Smell them. Wasn’t that what you wanted? Don’t you want to do it in front of me?”

He tried to grab you by the wrist, shaking his head in dual effort to get them off and deny, deny, deny. “It’s not that, baby, I’m sorry, I’ve just gotta go. Everyone is waiting-“

“Oh no you don’t," you cut him off sharply, yanking your hands out of his grasp and grabbing his arm yourself, dragging him to the living room. "You can tell them you are running late because you’re a little perv who got caught stealing panties to sniff.”

“I-I'm sorry, baby, it's not what you think-"

“Aren’t you sharing a room this time?" Your tirade continued. You pushed on his shoulders, causing him to fall back onto your large couch and you maneouvered him so he was lying on his back. Kōtarō at this point was resigned to letting you do what you want, his embarrassment levels too high to truly function properly even though he really, really needed to leave or he would be late for the coach the team were due to travel to their next training camp on. "Your teammates are going to be there and you still want to jack off with the smell of my pussy? You don’t have any shame, do you?”

You swung your leg over his head, pushing your current pair of panties aside and planting your clit right into his mouth, holding his head in place and grinding. He instinctively gripped onto your thighs, wrapping his arms around them and pulling you closer. If this was his punishment, he thought, then he'd take it. Yes please, he would take gladly.

“Eat. Don’t you dare wash your face. If you want to be a little perv, then be a little perv. You can smell my pussy all day.”

masterlist

#*smut #*hq #bokuto x you #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you smut #bokuto x reader smut #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutaro x you #bokuto koutaro x reader smut #bokuto koutaro x you smut #hq! #haikyuu! #haikyuu! smut #haikyuu smut #smut #haikyuu writing #bokuto smut #bokuto koutarou smut #haikyuu brainrot #*nsfw #bokuto

[kolyasupremanxy]

Bro imagine kolya with an s/o who is like death from puss in boots

Like nikolai being goofy asf and reader just straight up like this "😐😐😐" not annoyed but like no expression at all

They're the ultimate power couple, when kolya is about to finish killing someone he just hears a whistle from his lover ❤️

𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 (𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Fluff(?), Romance

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of killing.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.7k

𝐀/𝐧: I don't if this is what you want but yeah enjoy [ : hh

Despite his sadistic tendencies, Nikolai is completely enamored with his s/o's emotionless nature. He finds it fascinating and enjoys trying to break through their exterior. Nikolai often tries to make his s/o smile or laugh with his theatrics, but he never seems to succeed. This only makes him more determined to make them crack a smile. Nikolai loves to show off his abilities to his s/o, especially his coat's unique power. He enjoys watching their reaction to his tricks and often uses them to impress them. Despite their lack of expression, Nikolai knows his s/o cares for him deeply. They show it in small ways, like bringing him his favorite tea or adjusting his coat when it's out of place. Nikolai loves birds, but his s/o is indifferent towards them. He often tries to get them interested in his hobby but is ultimately unsuccessful. His s/o's lack of emotion is not a weakness, but a strength. They are able to remain objective and level-headed in any situation, which often comes in handy during Nikolai's missions. Nikolai enjoys making his s/o blush or flustered, but it's a rare occurrence. He finds it endearing when they do show some kind of reaction. While Nikolai can be quite monstrous when he needs to be, he's also incredibly loving towards his s/o. He dotes on them and tries to make them feel special in any way he can. Nikolai finds his s/o's whistle to be incredibly satisfying. He likes to use it as a signal that they're in this together, no matter what. Despite their differences, Nikolai and his s/o are the perfect match. They balance each other out and bring out the best in each other. Nikolai often uses his s/o's whistle as a signal to let him know when they approve of his actions or when he needs to be more cautious. When it comes to killing, his significant other would be there admiring his work. Before he finishes someone, he hears a whistle of Death from his s/o, making him smirk.

𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 :

Nikolai looked at his s/o with a wide grin on his face. He was always excited to show off his work to his partner, and the sound of their whistle was the ultimate reward. Even though they never showed any emotion, Nikolai knew his s/o appreciated his work in their own unique way.

"Dove, you make me feel alive!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his s/o. "You know how to appreciate the finer things in life."

His s/o simply looked up at him, their eyes showing no expression. Nikolai loved their stoic demeanor. It was one of the things that had drawn him to them in the first place. They're unfeeling, unyielding, and always there when he needed them.

Nikolai looked back at the body of the man he had just killed. He had been hired by Decay of Angels to take him out, and he had done it in his usual theatrical style. It had been a good kill, and he knew his bosses would be pleased.

He turned back to his s/o, who was still staring at him. "You know, I love how you appreciate my work," he said, "it's like you're always here to watch me perform."

Nikolai's s/o let out a soft whistle, and he knew it was their way of saying they approved of his actions. He grinned wider, feeling more alive than ever. With his s/o by his side, he knew he was unstoppable.

"You know what, Dove? You and I are the ultimate power couple," Nikolai said, laughing. "No one can stand in our way."

His s/o simply nodded, their whistle once again serving as a silent approval. Nikolai felt a surge of excitement run through him. He loved how his s/o could show their support in such a unique way.

Together, they walked away from the scene of the crime, Nikolai's arm draped over his s/o's shoulder. They were a formidable team, and Nikolai knew they would be unstoppable as long as they were together.

Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Fics. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated.

#nikolai gogol x reader #bsd nikolai #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol #nikolai bsd #nikolai imagines #nikolai x y/n #nikolai x you #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs nikolai

[turnwashingtonsbaddies]

PLS PLS OKS DEAR GOD GIVE US THE PUSS PUSS EATING RANKING OF TURN CHARACTERS I NEED IT LIKE SPONGEBOB NEEDS WATER (must include robert rogers)

ok im officially done with school (woo 🥳) so i can give everyone in my ask box what they've been waiting for. i am going to keep the list limited to the ppl in this promo photo bc there are so many goddamn characters in that show and if you want heavy-hitting analysis, i've gotta keep a short list (at least for now)

analysis under the cut:

as mentioned before caleb brewster does indeed SWEEP the pussy eating power rankings

as also mentioned before john andre is as mediocre in eating pussy as he is in acting and flute playing. he thinks he's amazing at it tho

now for the fun. i need to get this first paragraph out of the way bc it is about the man who made me begin to ponder this question 2 years ago in the first place. abraham. fucking. woodhull. this beanie-wearing menace to society has NEVER made anyone other than anna strong come. point blank period. even with anna tho, he's done it like maybe once or twice. whether or not he did it by giving her head is up for another debate tho

oh and speaking of anna strong. she gives me pillow princess vibes for a reason i cannot quite explain. it is just kind of a gut feeling i have. maybe it has to do with the fact that ppl are always just throwing themselves at her, so she doesn't have to bother with actually working on pleasuring them

but back to abe for a minute. he's actually (believe it or not) NOT the worst one on the list, and that is because richard woodhull has NEVER ONCE made a woman come. not even his wife. not once. richard has never even eaten pussy before. richard has only ever had sex in the missionary position. abe is a terrible partner for a reason, and that reason is bc he was raised by richard

one member of the woodhull family does possess some finesse however. mary woodhull eats pussy like a mf champion. i imagine her learning it was much like her learning how to fire a gun. at first she was like 'wtf is going on??? i cant do that??' but give it few tries and she easily upstages all the men around her

using mary shooting a gun as my transition here..... let's talk about simcoe. honestly, he does give me the vibes of someone who really wants to be good at eating pussy, and maybe he even enjoys doing it. however, i think he gives toothy head. and i also think he does it on purpose. that's right. he's a biter

speaking of ppl who enjoy eating pussy, i think hewlett slays in that department ngl. ik i said before that caleb is arguably the only man on the show who enjoys eating pussy, but i actually want to amend that bc i think hewlett does too. however, i think the one drawback for hewlett is that his desire and ability to give good head does come from a place of him being (and i mean this with peace and love hewlett enjoyers) a massive simp

i straight up dont have a transition for this one but it was literally an intrusive thought and i just need to expel it. ben tallmadge the type of guy to apologize after eating pussy. why? who knows. it could have even been decent head. he's still apologizing anyway. however my bet is that decent is the best he can do bc he's an overthinker, which can get in the way of having strong head game

finally, and yes i made you read all of this before giving you what you wanted anon, robert rogers. "(must include robert rogers)" is SO REAL. SO TRUE. you're right for saying so. however he is such an enigma to me and i really don't know where to place him both as an eater of pussy and frankly as an entity in general. i know he has to exist in some kind of extreme tho. god-tier head or the most abysmal head ever anyone's ever experienced. maybe he's even literally eating pussy, like in a cannibalism way. i'm not ruling that out either. honestly, maybe the quality of head varies between sessions too. after all, he's always gotta keep em on their toes

#i put this into my google docs and checked the word count for shits and gigs....... this post is 700 words long #but anyway lmk if you want more 🤪

[maxislvt]

Hear me outDark!Natasha with a Fem!reader who is similar to Muerte/death from puss in boots 2, like they're both unhinged mf who is gonna kill anyone in sight and after they're done w the murder and all that, they just cuddle or fuck.

Reader likes to call her victims with a bone chilling whistle, the victim has no time to react as natasha kills them.

The rest is up to you bc I'm out of ideas 😭😭😭

(Also, smh, both of my hyperfixations managed to clash into one another, so yeah.)

warnings: dark themes, murder, skin carving, breid mention of blood play, violence, brief smut (like really brief)

(I've only seen bits and pieces of the new puss in boots so if this isn't what you had in mind I'm sorry)

Natasha started killing long before she met you and I imagine she'd even keep it a secret for a bit once you two start dating. You have your own secret murder interest so for the first few months of your relationship one of you will be gone at night for hours and come home in different clothes and suspiciously clean but the other won't ask any questions.

Of course, leaving out for hours at night and showing up in new clothes doesn't sound like something a faithful partner will do. But since both of you are insanely obsessed with each other, the solution is to kill whoever is taking away your beloved. So for a while both of you are unknowingly stalking the others serial killer personas

Nat, being way more experienced than you, catches you in the middle of dismembering some random person you thought Natasha was cheating on you with. Natasha is very upset. Not because being a murderer ruins that innocent little sunshine™ view she had of you — if anything your inexperience just furthers that idea in a sick way — it's because you've gotten blood all over yourself and you're doing so much heavy lifting and you're just too small and adorable to be doing all of that !!!

You're very confused when she steps right over the dead body and immediately starts trying to clean you up. Natasha goes on this long rant about how you're too pretty to be getting your hands dirty and if you needed someone dead you should've just asked because she would've happily killed someone for you. That being said, she's undeniably aroused. It ends with you two forgetting to dispose of the body and just making out in the bathroom of the guy murdered.

It takes you a long while to perfect your whistle, so you get stuck with a little toy whistle you'd win at an arcade. It's bright red and you hate it, but Nat thinks it's the cutest thing ever. After a few weeks, you do get to do your fancy little whistle and it's undeniably creepy. Sometimes you get bored and do it in broad daylight just to watch people get antsy and nervous.

Natasha is usually the one that gets off track during your little murder escapades. She's well trained and confident in her skills, she deserves to get a little handsy at times. Seeing you exhausted and covered in blood always gets her going and she can't help but ravage you.

Occasionally, you two will have to go into hiding. This usually involves tricking some idiot into taking you in for a night or two, Natasha breaking in hours later and killing them, and you two getting to play house with someone else money and groceries. It softens the two of you up a lot. You're all domestic and snuggly before finding a new town and new victim.

Despite all the murder and blood, I feel like the sex would be more of the vanilla side. Natasha prefers to coddle and spoil you during sex. If things get really rough or kinky, it's only because you asked for it. The only thing she does on her own will is carve her name into your skin but she lets you carve your name into hers

For your one year anniversary, she goes out and looks for one of your victims that got away when you originally started killing people so you can torture them together and it's really romantic and you two share dinner by candle light and corpse 🫶🏾 (you do NOT eat the body I must specify)

#panther speaks #vnrchiqx #panthers headcanons #natahsa romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff x reader

[eternalglitch]

Right okay so slightly different from my usual programming but after three years of Rise brainrot the turtles have been finally vacated and I must discuss my new blorbos with great fondness at least a little. (Do not worry about my ongoing fic. That is almost my own personal blorbos at this point and I must see them off to a happy ending.)

So I've always had terrible auditory processing skills, to the point where I have made it through one (1) podcast despite my many attempts otherwise and thought this meant I was locked out of the fun dnd content.

And then one of my favorite fanfic authors from a few years back started reblogging Dimension 20's Neverafter art.

Now I had at a problem because if they endorsed this and then I spotted a character that literally seemed to be crafted to fit my interests, I had to at least poke my head into the show. So I sat down and watched episode one.

That was about two weeks ago. Almost immediately I dragged more friends into watch parties to catch up to the campaign and have gotten a SOLID chunk of my close friends into it already. This campaign is something else, the way it just grabs you in a way that I thought would never happen for me for a dnd campaign.

So (and some Neverafter spoilers ahead) Neverafter is a story about fairytale characters fighting against their "destiny" or "roles." As the world changes and their tales progressively darken, they start learning about the concept of authors, and how bad things happen to them just because an impartial outside force finds it the most interesting. The horror of being the wrong version of the story, of knowing your story should have been happy and is not. Or knowing that your story is destined to be tragic and you have no say in the matter.

And honestly every single character is compelling in their own way!

Pinocchio is the one that lured me into the story. A puppet that was given life and, after completing the traditional narrative to his story, breaks his promise to the fairy and lies to save his father's life. His lie transforms him back into a puppet, where he becomes entangled into lying more and more and more and backed into a corner by a cruel warlock patron that is essentially holding his father hostage. He's snapped his own nose off because although his own rules (his nose growing) are still in place, the world has changed. His back is against the wall and this is a scared child trying to save his dad. (He's also hilarious and swears like he just learned what the word fuck is.)

Sleeping Beauty is a victim to her story being events that happen TO her but at no point does she get allowed any initiative. When she wakes up to find no prince waiting for her, she has to learn that maybe waiting for her happily ever after isn't what would make her happy and she has to take matters back into her own hands.

Puss in Boots (Pib) is seemingly (there's more to it) a normal cat that happens to have also tricked an entire kingdom before fleeing and abandoning the kingdom to a dark fate. He lies for fun and is a great partner in crime to Pinocchio.

Red Riding Hood is a child that killed her own family when the big bad wolf gave her lycanthropy before begging her to kill him. She's a girl that is seeking parental love and guidance, and she views herself as a monster unworthy of the very love she seeks.

The Frog Prince is what I consider the dark horse favorite; Gerard got his happily ever after and his standard story happened, but after marrying his true love and time passed, he started to turn back into a frog. As his wife and him argued and started seeing each other's perspectives less and less, he became more and more froglike. Now that she's gone missing after heading off to war, Gerard has to face his own cowardice and come to terms with what really was the thing that drove a wedge in between them. (I love him. So much. He's extremely flawed and such a three-dimensional character.)

Mother Timothy Goose is a man that lost his child to an evil goose called the Gander, and is currently being hunted down by the same creature. He accidentally entered a contractual three wishes deal with it, his own wish being to find a way to save his dead son. This has granted him a magical book that has much deeper abilities than merely bringing his own son back from the dead, and he's one of the people that can help right the wrongs going on in the land of Neverafter even as he is hunted by the Gander as it tries to make him use his final wish.

So, yeah. I recommend trying it if you like horror and fairytales. It's fun. (I am not normal about it.)

#glitch speaks #dimension 20 #neverafter #d20 neverafter #d20 spoilers

[saevus-brutalis]

last art this year

was supposed to be for pride month but— ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒.

some lore surrounding these two that is too long overdue but 🤷‍♂️

not as detailed and rambly as i’d like it to be, but i’m really burned out and i’m trying to get back to it🧍‍♂️

nevermind it’s pretty rambly lol

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

all the way back in 2038 Vincent and Ray, after dating for around two years, agreed to leave California together on august 21st — Ragan’s birthday; it was supposed to be his birthday gift of sorts, a start of a new chapter, new life;

buuut Vince, being a little shit teenager, got cold feet (in Ray’s eyes, Vince always justified that as being rational) and ditched him last minute, not showing up in their agreed spot, making Ragan leave on his own after hours of waiting.

this caused Ray to despite his own birthdate, it always reminding him of the heartbreak and betrayal. 🧍‍♂️

Vincent has felt guilty ever since, but firmly believed it was the right choice. he was never fit to live a nomadic lifestyle at such a young age.

four decades later their paths cross again and a long healing journey ensues.

so now this date is pretty bittersweet to both of them 🧍‍♂️ but it gets better overtime

basically right person, wrong time

although i think if they did ran away together then, it wouldn’t have ended good at all 🤷‍♂️ with Vince still being pretty immature emotionally, still struggling with some inner personal things (family stuff, internalized homophobia, etc.) and not familiar with the nomadic culture and ways of living. they’d probably get in bad fights more and more as the time would go on, and eventually split. Vince would’ve decided to go back to Night City probably (if he ever would make it back) and they’d never end up back together has they met in the future.

their separation allowed them to grow and mature on their own, in their own familiar environments, experience different things, and after they met again, after all those years, they put their feelings and mutual attraction to the test

and it turned out they still want each other even with all the imperfections 🧍‍♂️(i’m not crying you are) they could lie all they want but their brain chemistry couldn’t. Vincent never loved someone they way he loved Ragan, and Ray never quite felt the same way with anyone else like he felt with Vince. there was always something missing, something not quite right. and while they could tell each other they’re looking for something too far out of their reach, that they’re looking for a too perfect partner, in reality they always just wanted each other 🧍‍♂️

they still have a lot to work on together in their relationship, but now that they’re too old for teenage fights and too tired for heartbreaks, they make compromises and their fights make their bond and their understanding of one another stronger 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

like we acknowledge that Vince did a shitty thing by ghosting Ray, going no contact and being a puss, too scared to man up, and tell him face to face ‘hey i can’t go, this type of thing ain’t for me’. he didn’t want to acknowledge that, saying that out loud, or even in his mind, would make that real and that scared him. he was definitely a teen who’d rather avoid doing something he wasn’t comfortable with to not experience the uncomfortable feelings altogether. the avoidant type we all know and love 🧍‍♂️

and yet Ray still chose to love him 🧍‍♂️ he’s definitely like ‘this man’s trash but he’s *my* trash’. Vince gets better eventually after Ray finally gets through his thick ass skull.

but also i’m not gonna sit here and say Ragan fixed Vince coz that wasn’t the case 🤷‍♂️ this is not a ‘i’m gonna fix him’ type of situation. Ragan wasn’t and isn’t perfect either, his perspective was kinda askew as well; can’t quite describe it as i haven’t psychoanalyzed him as much as Vincent but they’re both flawed, make mistakes left and right and learn from that (sooner or later) like human beings 🧍‍♂️

but in the end they’re just old men in love

#lore alert 🗣️ lore alert 🗣️ #you know i had to sprinkle some angst into their relationship #they heal i promise #i play with them like barbie dolls #they get a happy ending i swear #vince gets to spend holidays and new years in italy with ray’s family #and they eventually leave california to go live on a ranch somewhere remote #lore: ragan #lore: vincent e. vahn #oc: vincent elijah vahn #oc: ragan ray vanzetti #saevus-brutalis art #saevus brutalis #saevus brutalis art #brut art #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 oc #cyberpunk oc #male v #cyberpunk 2077 male v #cyberpunk v