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#self indulgent
zrkibz · 26 days ago
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Mmm feelin’ fluffy times
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Any good dadnoblade fic recs keke
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storietellers · 29 days ago
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go fuck yourself 💚
~~~
i'm actually here for lokius but tbqh biphobia is a scourge 😌 i hope loki does a whole dang tour of dating himself w/his boyfriend mobius along for the ride k
pose snagged from pinterest
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skeltrr · 2 days ago
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i got inspired to draw sleeping jedi who are safe and sound after a harrowing ordeal. i couldnt be assed to draw the couch pls forgive
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neoheros · 6 days ago
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call it a freak occurrence, an alignment of planets, or even mercury in retrograde, but osamu has no freaking idea how he ended up here.
or more specifically, here in 2012.
less than a minute ago, he was in his bed, ready to go to sleep next to you and all that, and now, well now, he’s definitely not where he’s supposed to be.
by the looks of it, or from what he can remember, he stands in front of the old inarizaki high school building, just a few steps away from the entrance gate.
how long has it been since he's last been here? maybe 5 or 6 years? he's lost count, or more accurately, he can't really remember.
osamu's confused. he's definitely dreaming, that's for sure. he can't remember getting out of bed or making plans of coming here, and even if he did, he would never come back here without you.
he shakes his head, "this is a weird dream."
osamu opts to look around the place, nothing much to do since it looks as deserted as it feels, but he takes one step too far to the right, and something crashes into him.
“sorry! i didn’t see where i was — samu?”
and it’s you — but then again it's not you. because the 'you' he knows is older, just as old as he is, a bit taller than the one standing in front of him, and definitely wouldn’t be here right now — it’s younger you.
“how’d you get here so fast?" you ask him, eyebrows knitting together as you take a step closer, "and what happened to your clothes?”
osamu swallows, unsure of what to say, of what to do, so he takes a step back, distancing himself away from your questioning tone.
you narrow your eyes, “what happened to you?”
he shakes his head again, “i’m not—"
“quit running from me!” an all too familiar voice interrupts him, yours and his attention coming to the source of the sound, and his eyes widen as much as yours does.
it's him — osamu miya, 17, ashy grey hair, in his inarizaki uniform, chasing his breath as his running comes to an abrupt stop in front of you — its younger him.
osamu's taller than his younger self, a whole lot taller that it makes a striking difference, his once grey hair now a stark black as he's let it grow out over time, and instead of an old uniform, he wears an onigiri miya shirt with a pair of black trousers.
he looks like himself but then again he doesn't.
“what the hell." you say aloud, being the first to speak after a very long minute.
younger osamu takes a step closer to you, eyeing the stranger in front of him with a glance that's almost threatening to be a glare, "who's the scrub?"
"he's..." you don't know what to say, "i don't know."
osamu, the original one as he likes to name himself, feels very much like the villain here, and to that, he scoffs.
how is he the villain here?
yeah, he gets how a grown man approaching a bunch of kids in a school campus is sketchy, but hey! he didn't ask to be here. he doesn't even know why he's here. heck, how can he even be sketchy one of the kids in question is literally a younger version of himself?
osamu takes a deep breath, already peeved and ready for this dream to be over, but no matter how much he tries to pinch or will himself awake, it seems like he's stuck here for the time being.
so he looks at you, you and your confused look matched with his younger self's unrelenting glare, and he takes the time to explain what he thinks might be going on here.
( the only sane conclusion, omitting the fact that he's probably just dreaming all of this, time travel! )
“i don’t trust him.” his younger version tells you, although by the way he keeps his annoying gaze on him, osamu has a feeling that he wanted him to hear it as well.
you pull on younger osamu's arm, “i kinda do.”
and he turns to you, “he’s a stranger!”
“technically, i'm you.” osamu interrupts, shrugging, and this earns him another glare from the younger version of him.
he rolls his eyes, “alright, where's tsumu? i'm gonna kill him for pulling such a stupid prank.”
“tsumu should be in the gym with kita right now.” osamu looks back to the campus, then he turns his head to look at you, and then back to his younger self.
he finishes, "he stayed behind on purpose."
“yeah...” there's a slight dash of pink on his younger version's ears, “how'd ya know that?”
and osamu grins, thought it’s too small to actually tell, “i remember today.”
that's why this place feels so familiar.
it isn't just the place or the weather. it’s this specific day.
he remembers asking atsumu to stay behind so he can walk with you alone, he remembers making jokes and chasing each other around the empty streets, and he remembers how it felt to kiss you before running home.
he remembers today.
osamu looks at you, “i kissed ya for the first time here.”
he says it so casually, like he's kissed you a hundred times over to even be ashamed or embarrassed about it.
you snap your head to the boy next to you, “you were gonna kiss me!”
and he yells, defensive, “what — no!”
osamu turns to you, now an amused smile on his face, “and you punched me in the gut.”
“you punched me after i kissed you?!”
“must be because you were so bad at it!”
it goes on like this for another second or two, just two flushed and flustered kids bickering and yelling, and osamu almost feels too old to be involved in it.
you look at him again, “so — uhm — if there’s a samu in the future, is there a me?”
and for the first time today, osamu smiles, one that you easily recognize, “there is.”
“do we stay friends?” this time it's the younger version of him who asks this, standing next to you tightly as if he's almost embarrassed to ask the question.
osamu takes a second to pause, “no.”
the minute feels longer again.
osamu's stirring awake, he knows this because he feels it, something like a yawn coming up in the back of his throat or a hug coming around his chest to pull him away from his sleep.
he's waking up soon, but this — the school, the memory, you and the younger version of him — it still feels way too real and vivid.
“i have to go.” he tells you specifically.
and all you do is nod, unsure of what to say.
“don’t screw things up.” he looks directly at his younger self this time, “if i wake up, and i'm not married anymore, i'm gonna come back just to kill ya.”
he takes one last look at you standing next to younger him, both a bit flushed after you both seemed to have spotted the gold band he wears on his ring finger.
and he blinks, and he's gone — just as fast as he got there, he's back to where he started.
cold comforters, sunlight peeking through his hooded eyes, and the gentle stroking of fingers tangled in his messy morning hair.
he opens his eyes to the bright sun, a cluttered apartment bedroom with socks and shirts on the floor, college books stacked on a study table, and an apron dangling on one of the door hooks.
2018.
he turns to his side, finally seeing you after a cruel amount of time, and the first thing he does is pull you into a quick kiss.
“hello.” you smile, pulling away from him, “you were talking in your sleep.”
osamu stirs, disturbing the heavy comforter as he does, and he yawns before blinking away the last of his drowsiness.
“i say anything interesting?” he looks at you, turning on the cold pillows.
you nod, laughing lightly, “i punched you in the gut apparently.”
he quirks a brow, “oh, is that why my stomach hurts?”
and you smile, “ah well you know me, i've got a strong punch.”
for a second, his hand greets yours, him gently lifting up your fingers to see the matching ring he has with you, and he smiles timidly once he sees it there.
“something wrong?” you ask, and osamu pulls your hand closer to his face to kiss on the back of your fingers.
and all he tells you is, with a gentle smile on his face, “i'm just checking.”
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ltoasty-ghostyl · 11 months ago
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Me about to commit massive amounts of self care by making my oc/self insert massively important to the characters and the storyline without a care in the world
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navybrat817 · 9 months ago
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Lose Control
There is no reason for this. No one asked for it. I have a ton of other things to work on. This is just self indulgent and I hope you all enjoy it! Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky tried his best not to lose control, but a man can only take so much. Word Count: 2,277 Warnings: Possessive behavior, it’s really just porn. 18+ Please!!! This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own!
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Bucky always tried his best to stay in control. After suffering for so long at the hands of HYDRA, losing himself was something he never wanted to experience again. It wasn't good for him or anyone else. Meeting you tested that and more.
Desire was something he felt before, but what he felt for you was borderline obsession. He wanted to drop to his knees, put a leg over his shoulder and lick up every drop of your sweet nectar. He wanted to throw you to the ground or bend you over the nearest surface so he could sink deep inside you. His cock constantly felt heavy and hard when you were around. And that need only grew the more he got to know you. 
While some still feared him, you treated him like a normal human being. You refused to walk on eggshells around him. You even teased him, which both surprised and impressed him. Nothing compared to your smile though. How could something so simple touch his heart and turn him on?
His feelings ran much deeper than attraction and he was certain you felt the same way. He never heard about you dating anyone. And...he may have done a bit of research on his own to confirm that you were single. The two of you always sat close to each other and spent time together when you could, in and out of missions. Maybe you were just waiting for him to make a move.
It was only a matter of time until he snapped. Who knew hearing you laugh at something Steve said would be the thing that drove him to the brink of madness? His best friend, the little punk, was making you happy. It was ridiculous. He knew you weren't interested in him, but it still didn't stop him from seeing red. 
"Bucky? Earth to Bucky."
Your voice had made the haze evaporate a bit, but you were still standing too close Steve for his liking. He had never been like this before...the jealous type. 
"Buck?" Steve asked, his brow furrowed in concern when he didn't answer you. 
"Sorry. What?" he finally replied. 
"We were going to spar-" Steve began, gesturing to you and it took a lot of willpower not to bash his fist against the wall.
"No. I'll do it."
For a moment, it looked like you were going to argue. Something in his eyes must have warned you because you merely nodded in agreement. Steve just frowned before he relented. 
That was how Bucky found himself alone with you later, your body pinned to the mat as he draped himself over you. He lost track of how long you two had been sparring. The sound of frustration you made when you couldn't get out of his hold made his cock twitch. He wondered just what other sounds he could pull out of you. 
"Do you yield?" he questioned, trying not to groan as you wriggled to get free. 
"No," you hissed.
"Of course not," he grinned, though you couldn't see it. Stubborn and never willing to just give up. It was something he loved about you. Love? Fuck, he was in deep. 
"Um...Bucky?" your voice sounded smaller and uncertain when you stopped moving.
It was only then he realized being draped over you this way, with your ass pressed against his crotch, you could feel just how hard he was. Instead of pulling away and apologizing, he lifted your hips slightly so he could press more fully against you. "Do you yield, doll?"
His voice had slipped into something darker and lustful, wanting you to know just how intentional this was. "No," you whispered, your hips rocking back against his. 
That was the game you wanted to play. Well, he was a master. "Yield," he said through his teeth, slowly rutting against you as a hand snaked around your front. The gasp you let out when his thumb found your nipple wasn't enough. He wanted to make you keen and cry out. He wanted to be greedy.
"I...Bucky!" you cried when his vibranium hand yanked your leggings and underwear down hard enough to tear them. He'd make up for that. Hell, maybe you'd thank him later for it. 
"Do. You. Yield?" he asked again, working quickly to push his own pants down and spring himself free. He wouldn't feel better until he was inside you. 
"Wait!" you cried. 
That cry made him freeze. Fuck. He read the situation completely wrong. He fucked up any chance he had to be with you. He-
"If you're going to fuck me, Barnes, you better kiss me first."
The relief he felt at your demand was indescribable. Easily flipping you on your back, and enjoying the yelp you let out, he closed the gap between you to give you a hard kiss. Feeling you open your mouth to his, yielding, opened another floodgate within him. He wanted to learn every way you kissed. The soft and slow kisses that could leave him drunk on the feeling. The passionate, demanding kisses that were all teeth and tongue. He would seduce you until your lips were swollen from his kisses.
Your back arched when he tore through your top and bra, your breasts spilling free. He didn't miss the shiver that went through you as he kissed down the smooth column of your neck and chest. He couldn't resist taking a nipple into his mouth, memorizing the feel with his tongue. Groaning when you reached up to yank on his hair, his mouth moved to taste the other peaked pebble. 
"Bucky, please…" you sighed as he nipped and sucked gently.
Pulling off to meet your heated gaze, he smirked. Oh, he could get used to that...you begging for him. Begging for him to touch you, fuck you, make you come. "Please what, doll?"
His mouth smothered yours in another impassioned kiss as his hand found your core, drinking down your response when he felt just how wet you were. This was for him. It was all for him. "Please what?" he grumbled as he broke the kiss. 
"Bucky, please! Fuck me!" you pleaded, spreading your legs wide for him. 
Bringing his slick fingers to his mouth, he sucked each one clean. If he was hard before, it was nothing compared to just the small taste of you. He would feast on your sweet juices properly later, but he needed your first of many orgasms for him to be on his cock. 
"Please," you begged one last time, watching as he gripped himself.
There was only so much a man could take when an angel like you gave yourself up like an offering. As he pushed the head of his cock past your slick folds, the beast in him didn't feel relief yet. He needed more. One day, he'd be gentle with you. He would worship and cherish every inch of you. He would treat you with the love and care you deserved. But the way your muscles squeezed and sucked him in, it didn't feel like you were in the mood for tenderness either. You needed to be fucked and he was going to do just that. 
Bucky swore under his breath at just how tight you felt around him when he drove into you. If paradise existed, that delicious, tight pussy of yours was it. He was big and he knew it, but watching you bite your lip as you adjusted inflamed his ego. The whine you let out when you rolled your hips spurred him into action. "Should've done this sooner," he said more to himself than to you, but he knew you heard it loud and clear.
The friction already felt like a wildfire. As his thrusts deepened, he felt you open up to him more and more. You took him so well, like you were meant to. And he fit, like he was meant to. After everything, he didn't believe anything was allowed to be his. But here you were. The light he hadn't even known he needed. 
You sobbed when he suddenly pulled out of you. That pride flared up within him as he turned you on your stomach, knowing you felt empty without him in you. Even as shaky as you were, you lifted your ass easily to him. Gripping your hips, he slid home again. "Fuck, that's my good girl."
You keened as he roughly pulled you back. He pumped in and out of you like a man possessed. The force from his thrusts would've made you collapse if he hadn't been holding onto you. All inhibitions were gone. He wanted to fuck you harder, further, deeper. He wanted you to be his in every way. He wanted to be the best you ever had. And from now on, the only one. 
When you brought a hand up to find your clit, he pulled you back against his chest. "Don't you fucking dare," he growled in your ear.
"Bucky, please!" you wailed as he kept up his harsh pace. He knew you could take it. 
"You feel my cock deep in your wet pussy? It's mine now. That means I make you come."
"It's yours," you moaned as your head fell back against his shoulder, giving him easy access to drag his teeth along your skin. Maybe if he left a mark there, everyone would see who you belonged to. 
"Do you want to come, doll? You want to soak my dick before I come inside you? Because I'm going to. You're going to take every drop."
"Yes, Bucky. Please, let me come," you begged. "I want you to come inside me."
He took pity on you when he heard the tears in your throat. It was intense for him, too. And as much as it painted him, he slipped out of you to put you on your back again. "I want to look in your eyes when I make you lose it."
You were squirming beneath him, your face screwed up in growing ecstasy he entered you once again. Pleasure was blooming and spreading within him, hot and ready to spill over as he found your sweet spot. Fuck, your screams were gorgeous. He was barely able to keep himself from coming the more you clenched around him, surprised that he hadn't come the moment he felt your walls stretch around him the first time. He wanted to chase that release, but not without you there with him. 
"Come for me, doll," he ordered. He had to feel that he pleased you, that you needed this as much as he did.
You tensed as your orgasm hit. You were done for, your body shuddering from your release. It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen and he wasn't sure what he had done to earn that privilege. What he did know was that he was addicted and he wanted to see that look every day. 
"Come inside me," he managed to hear over the blood rushing in his ears.
He moaned as he fucked deep into you, finally breaking as he came. His orgasm seemed to stretch on, the most powerful one he had ever experienced. He made sure to keep himself buried to the hilt, giving you every drop like he promised. His breathing was ragged, like yours, as he braced himself on the mat. Pleasure still seemed to crackle through him he took in your dazed, ruined look. The look he put there.
The kiss he gave you was tender and soft, hoping to convey what he couldn't put into words in the moment. He felt hesitation on your end, which made him stop. Did he hurt you? He would hate himself if he did.
"Was this…a one time thing?" you asked, not quite looking him in the eye.
He made sure you were looking right at him when he answered. He could see your fear there and it made something twist in his heart. "No, doll. I want you every single day. I have since the moment I met you. Do you not see how happy you make me? Fuck, you're so beautiful and good and I don't deserve you, but I don't want to let you go."
You grasped the back of his head to pull him in for a deep kiss. He could feel your smile before you pulled away, which eased his own nerves. "You better not let me go, Sergeant Barnes."
"I never will," he promised. 
"Fucking finally!"
Bucky's head snapped toward the door, doing his best to cover you. Tony, the smug asshole, was actually slow clapping beside Steve and Sam. Steve looked almost apologetic and Sam seemed upset. After a moment, you both knew why.
"Told you this would be the first place. Pay up."
"You don't even need the money!" Sam argued.
"It isn't about the money. It's the principle," Tony said with a shrug.
"I think we should give them some privacy," Steve interjected.
"That's a great idea. Get the fuck out of here!" Bucky yelled. 
Tony, to his credit, didn't look afraid as Steve ushered him and Sam out. "Just clean up when you're done!"
You looked at Bucky once you were alone again, a soft laugh bubbling up. "I wonder how many other places were on their list."
"You want to find out?"
"I do. And I want you to fuck me in all of them. You want to keep your girl happy, right?" you asked with a loving smile.
Bucky smiled back. "Whatever you want, doll...but we're not done in here yet. Not even close." 
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iiinkdrop · 3 months ago
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another quick doodle 
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punknatch · a year ago
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Something I really like about The Umbrella Academy is the attention to detail in the costume department. I'm going to use Klaus as an example cause he has the most visual style and in my opinion had the biggest change along the season (also because i love my boy ok)
Beyond the flamboyant looks that represents Klaus so much, we can analyze the meaning of his clothes.
To start we need to acknowledge that there's a point in his story that completely change him, we are going to call it before Dave and after Dave
Before Dave
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Morphologically speaking the use of layers in his clothes (coats,scarfs, necklaces and even the fringes in the skirt) show us how much he hides his real self and its also a metaphor for this drugs how he used them to separate himself from the ghost world. But these layers are thin, in most of the scenes we can see his skin. That show us vulnerability, they represents a fragile and fake protection against the outside world
If we see the colors (yes I'm going to talk a lot about color theory cause that's my favorite subject in the world and I could talk about it all day long. OK enough of me)
B.D.Klaus wears a lot of black, yes yes it's a funeral, but ha! like if Klaus would care. No he wears black cause 1. Black means death obvious choice, death is closer to him than to any other person in history but 2. and more importantly cause black is the absence of light. Even if we can see Klaus smiling and laughing more in the first chapters we know is fake. There's no light in his life, he already gave up and gave control to the drugs. (notice how Ben clothes are darker too since drugs also affects our perception of him) All his life to this point has been lightless.
There's an exception in his nicest outfit but green has a lot of meanings and one of them is greed and ambition. The reason Klaus was joining five was to get money but in his primary goal we see a bits of a warmer color in contrast. I'll let you to decide if you want to believe this warm color is for having his brother back but in my opinion red means spontaneity and dare.
Now let see After Dave
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In the first scene after he comes back from Vietnam we see him choosing a grey shirt, grey is transition, is detachment, is sadness but then he starts using his vest. He goes back to the layers but this time his protection is Dave. And this leads to the most representative color in Klaus as they also chose it for the posters GREEN. I said before green is ambition but colors have complex meanings and also means change, evolution and hope. These are the pillars for Klaus for the rest of the season. The only moment where he's not using his green vest is when he's looking for Luther bc his primary motivation change for a few hours.
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The rest of the season even if we see him sadder than ever, he is more connected to his feelings and boy he's feeling a lot. He wears shirts with mixed colors as he is learning to feel different emotions, new emotions that Dave brought to his life and also the ones his feeling for his new sobriety. Its all a bit overwhelming since this feelings are inconflict with himself and we see this fight in the prints.
He wears yellows which means fear, caution and anxiety, blues that are serenity, instropection, melancholy, faithfulness and healing. Orange that means courage and confidence. And my favorite pink. Pink means love, not passionate love but a caring love, the sensible, tender and warm love. And this is important because it's probably the first time Klaus has been receiving of this kind of love and he's still hopeful to get it back.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk
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devildomsexting · 9 months ago
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An idea that came into my mind when I was making a midnight snack last night 🥵🥵 I cant get over how straight forward he is. If he wants something, he just asks. I love him so much
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shweezyliz · 11 months ago
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kekekekekek
just a self-indulgent comic that I made for my own birthday with spirit blossom Yone. I wanted something to cheer myself up what with all this covid business... 
I also really liked the interactions and dialogues with Yone, along with Thresh of course (but that one will be for later), so I just drew out what I imagined this favorite interaction of mine would look like. Of course, had to put some artistic liberties for the funsies. also yes if you were to place me beside any of the humanoid champions of league i would like a fucking yordle
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self-ship-love · a year ago
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Concepts for extremely tall f/o’s.
Imagine them bending down to kiss you.
Imagine having to stand on tip-toe to reach their lips.
Imagine them carrying you on their shoulders - Also planting you on their shoulders so you can get the best view at a crowded concert.
Imagine them nicknaming you for your size, such as shorty, dot, minnie, peanut, little lady, mouse, squirt, tater tot  (even if you’re not actually short- because you are to them. )
Imagine goofing around about your heights and then they get smacked  in the face by a low tree branch.
Imagine borrowing their hoodies and being absolutely absorbed by them. Especially if they wear XXL size and the hem falls to your knees. - Imagine wearing them as a dress with long socks. Outfit complete!
Imagine the satisfaction when you can’t reach anything on a high shelf and them scooting beside you and effortlessly reaching it.
Imagine how good their legs look in dress pants or in a pretty skirt.
Imagine them wrapping their arms around you as you sit between their legs on a deck, hilltop or hood of a car.
Imagine them always resting their arm on your head and constantly patting your hair like a dog. You insist that you hate it but the blush on your cheeks tell a different story.
Imagine creating cheeky nicknames for them: Daddy long legs,  beanstalk, moose, grasshopper etc.
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