#spun mn

[macmilz]

Feel this moment encroaching very shortly.

#no sleep #spinning #spun mn #play hard

[cweampier]

leon loves it when you cry, your face covered in tears as he coos at you and licks them away <3 (i know from first hand experience)

god what he’d give. what he’d fucking give to have a cute girl crying in front of him IDK if i stuck with what you asked for sorry if i went off the rails a bit.. hehe

fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you pouted, the way you mewled as leon fucked himself between your thighs, chasing only for his release. he was so mean for that, and he knew it. but he couldn’t help it, seeing you so desperate for his dick enough to shed tears for it really ignited something inside him. an insatiable appetite presented itself to him.. and fuck did he love a good chase every once in awhile.

“l-leon.. please, want you so bad..” you hiccuped, trying to angle your hips to potentially get the head of his cock to penetrate your aching cunt to no avail. he couldn’t help but feel amused by your unrelenting pleads, so oblivious to how greedy you sounded. “poor baby.. so dumb and needy, what am i gonna do with you, mn?” he cooed as he leaned in closer to your face, swiping his tongue over your glistening cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears. he felt almost guilty for enjoying this as much as he was. he decided to continue to chip away at your patience, making sure to calculate his thrusts tactically enough to make contact with your neglected clit, bumping the tip of his pretty cock against it teasingly.

you were so confused, it was like you weren’t being heard. usually he spoiled you rotten, what’s with the sudden change? you stared back at him glossy eyed, in which he responded with a cocky grin before frowning mockingly. “you’re.. g’na finish what you started,” you responded, pathetic. he raised a brow, slowing his hips as he pressed them against the plumpness of your ass, cock slotted snuggly between your folds as he pressed his chest against your back. it earned a groan from the both of you, feeling his breath tickle your neck.

“it’s a good try but i don’t exactly take orders from desperate little brats,” he began, watching another tear roll down your disheveled face in awe, you really were something. “look at you all snotty face just cause you didn’t get it your way. want my cock bottoming out inside that greedily little pussy of yours so badly, don’t’cha? need me to pay extra attention to that clit’a yours? so cute..” he continued to egg you on with a filthy mouth, trying to get you to admit defeat. your lips pursed flatly together, feeling them tremble as more tears threatened to fall. you shut your eyes tightly before giving into his attempts to pester you further.

“inside,” you cry out dumbly, on the verge of tears once more to no one’s surprise. “wan’ your cock inside, leon, please-!” your head spun, leon fucking kennedy. only a man like him could ever hold the capabilities of having a pretty girl wailing for him to fuck her. “fuck me, leon, want it s’bad. promise, i’ll be good for you.. so good.” leon sat there, admiring his work, reducing you into nothing but a beseeching mess before him.

he sneered lightheartedly before parting your thighs swiftly with his hand, positioning himself in front of your sobbing pussy as the cool air brushed against it, sending shivers down your spine. “atta girl, that’s all i wanted to hear. see what happens when you use your words?” he lectured softly before unsheathing himself inside you, relishing in your plush walls as they welcomed him with earnest.. <333 ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#GRAHHHHHHHHH #scold me for being such a needy girl leon please #i hate him BAD. sly little fucker #but he gets me every time #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #cweampier

[bagelrites]

Moon

DNF fluff - the baby video

Dream didn’t notice George had slipped into the office until there was a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, then saw the familiar reflection on his monitors, and took his headphones off, shaking his hair out as he spun around to face him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.” George put his hands on his hips. “What’s this about you crying to baby videos of yourself?”

Dream laughed. Of course George saw the tweets immediately—he had all his notifications on.

“Oh, nah, it’s just, you know, for the music video.” Dream shrugged. “I didn’t really cry just, like… got misty eyed.”

“Mn.” George shifted his weight, and in the simple softening of his eyes, Dream knew he was relieved to hear it. George hated when he cried and couldn’t fix it.

“Show me,” he said then, and it took Dream by surprise.

“Show you, like, what I have so far?” Dream asked.

“No, the video.” George shook his head. “The one that made you cry.”

“Well, okay, again, I didn’t actually cry—but, like, whatever. Sure.” 

Dream turned back to his computer, pulled his chair close to the desk, and navigated out of his editing set up to find just the video itself, the raw file from his desktop. He didn’t open it full-screen, because the quality was too grainy for that to look good, and just felt it in a window, floating there in the middle of the screen. 

George leaned over his shoulder, made an impatient hand-gesture, and Dream hit play.

Dream, just three years old, standing in the driveway of his childhood home. Chalk on the concrete, grass green and freshly mowed behind him. His hair, blonder, short but still a little curly, and his hand on his cheek, the fingers clumsy, arm chubby.

His eyes up towards the sky, his tiny voice projected loud.

Moon, wake up!

And then he’s facing the camera, his round head and pouty lips, eyes big and sad, nose so small, like a kitten’s, barely protruding from his face. The camera pans up past houses and tree branches all in shadow, frames the crescent moon in the lavender sky, a white dot with the date superimposed under it.

NOV 10 2002

It’s a short video. Just eleven seconds long, but George seems immersed in it, makes another motion with his hand, signaling for Dream to play it again. He puts it on loop, and lets him watch it five times before he stops.

“There, happy?” he asks, but when he looks at George again, his cheeks are shining in the light of the computer.

“Oh my god. You’re actually crying.”

“What? No, I’m not, shut up.” George backs away and wipes his face, shaking his head vehemently, but Dream’s heart is already gone to pieces in his chest.

“Georgie…” he says his name quiet, reaches out with a gentle hand to grab just the tips of his fingers.

George slides his hand into his palm, squeezes at the meat of it, just under his thumb.

“It’s just—your nose,” George chokes out the words, and Dream laughs.

“What? My nose?”

“Yeah. It was so… small and cute,” George blubbers, still wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “You were so small and cute.”

“Oh my god.” Dream rolled his eyes, his smile pressing dimples into his cheeks. “You’ve seen my baby photos before.”

“Mn. Not the same.” George shakes his head and steps closer, spins Dream’s chair properly towards him so he can climb into his lap. Dream huffs at the weight, but holds him, rubbing his back and his hair.

“I want a little you running around,” George admits softly, and Dream sighs. He knows. God, he knows.

“Me too,” Dream says, and kisses him on the earlobe. “Someday. Yeah?”

George hums, nodding his head with his forehead pressed into Dreams.

Dream kisses his nose, and George crinkles his face up, giggling, then returns the gesture—only this time, it's softer, more reverent, this peck on the very tip of Dream’s nose. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream just closes his eyes and presses his cheek to George’s cheek, sharing heat like a promise.

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dnf fanfic #dreamnotfound fanfic #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #gnf #dwt #dream #my fic #drabble

[flowerparrish]

My first @pod-together of the year, a collaboration with @wanderingjedihistorian!

[Podfic Link] | [Fic Link]

Star Wars (Rebels): Kallus-centric, background Kallus/Zeb implied

Rated: T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Length: 25 mns

Summary:

The world spun as he took in the date before him. Perhaps this was a nightmare of some sort? Or a hallucination? The brief said they weren't entirely sure what protections the device had on it. Forcing him to relive the assault on Lasan certainly would be a fitting way to neutralize him. Still, that didn't... that idea didn't seem right. This felt all too real.

I am so beyond proud of this fic, and so delighted that one of my favorite people and authors wrote me something so perfect. Please consider listening or at least give it a read and leave glowing praise for Wander, she deserves it!

#pod together 2023 #star wars podfic #star wars rebels #podfic #agent kallus #alexsandr kallus #kalluzeb

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 17

It had been just the thing to lighten the mood after the big argument that had broken out between Lambert and Coen over Lambert casting Fireball for everything.

"You can't just cast Fireball for everything!" Coen had shouted, frustrated. "You just incinerated a whole f***ing barn!"

"And?" Lambert had sniffed.

"You just burnt all the poor farmer's cows!"

"Look on the bright side, now we have dinner taken care of!"

Coen had thrown his dice at Lambert and Jaskier decided that maybe they needed a break from D&D for a little bit.

"Let's put this on pause for now." Jaskier had suggested, "I've got an idea for a game we can play!" and a few minutes later, they were all standing around in the kitchen with bottles of water and Jaskier was handing out tortillas.

Geralt regarded his tortilla critically as the bard explained the rules. The game sounded so stupid. There wasn't much to it, and it didn't really sound like all that much fun. He was strongly considering just dipping out and finding something else to do.

But then Jaskier, mouth full of water, slapped Coen in the face with his tortilla, and immediately started laughing, spraying water all over Coen. The bald Witcher snorted and spat his water out all over the floor. The Kaer Morons burst into laughter.

Ok, maybe this game was going to be more entertaining than he'd thought. Geralt, throwing caution to the wind, decided to play. The Morons stood in a circle, a bottle was spun to pick the two opponents, and then the rivals faced each other.

Lambert and Geralt were glaring at each other, determined not to laugh. Geralt raised his tortilla and backhanded Lambert with it.

Lambert: *angry mumbling noises*

Geralt: *evil chuckle*

Lambert wound up and slapped Geralt so hard that his tortilla flew apart. They stood glaring at each other, cheeks bulging, making various angry grunts at each other. There was a second of stillness before they were throttling each other, spraying water and insults all over. Coen and Eskel broke up the fight, the round was deemed a draw, and the game continued.

Eskel and Jaskier faced off next. Jaskier was just moving his arm to smack Eskel, when the Witcher stuck his long arm out and gently hit him on the nose, making a soft hooting sound.

*Boop!*

Jaskier spat his water out laughing and cussing,"You b**tart!", while slapping Eskel on the cheek with his tortilla.

Eskel giggled around his mouthful of water, but didn't spit it out. The other Morons cheered, and Eskel moved on to the next round. He was disqualified several rounds later, after it was discovered that he was cheating. The clever b**tard had been only pretending to have water in his mouth.

Aiden had a turn, and took Lambert down with ease, using a lighting quick double slap that had Lambert ejecting his water just so he could swear at him. It was several minutes before everyone could stop laughing and continue the game.

It became hard not to laugh for some reason. It should have been an easy thing. Perhaps it was because everyone was so d*mn serious about the game. Or maybe, it was the copious amounts of soft drinks that had been consumed.

The combination of caffeine and sugar was setting off happy fireworks of dopamine in their brains.

On some rounds, merely facing an opponent was enough to cause one or both to spit out their water. It didn't help when the person you were facing was making all manner of noises and pulling weird faces as they fought not to lose their sh*t.

Like right now. Jaskier was facing off against Geralt, shoulders shaking, and frowning determinedly. He was having a really hard time not laughing. It was extremely difficult with how Geralt was standing there, eyes watering, red-faced, and with his cheeks puffed out. One of his eyes was starting to twitch from the strain.

Jaskier's brain, always seeing things from an imaginative point of view, decided to focus on the way Geralt's lips were puckered.

It nudged Jaskier and whispered "His lips look like a prolapsed ar**hole on a duck!" Jaskier started giggling in short little bursts, trying to keep his mouth shut tight.

Geralt saw the look on Jaskier's face. The pinched up look of a man fighting for his life. The grin was trying to pry his lips apart, causing his mouth to do a complicated wriggle. Geralt couldn't help it. He began making a sound. A loud, humming sound that came out in short bursts that sounded familiar. Jaskier recognized it instantly.

It was a sound he'd heard Geralt make before. The same sound that was always accompanied by the mental image of twinkies, and which still made Jaskier sit up in the middle of the night and laugh his a** off. Water shot out of Jaskier's nose as he snorted, coughed, and then choked out, "F***ing Seal Laugh!"

Geralt stood there making that closed mouth barking sound and pointing at Jaskier. It was clearly a triumphant gesture. Jaskier's arm snapped out and smacked Geralt on the head with his tortilla, and the Witcher spat his water out.

Yennefer returned from getting her nails done, and found the Kaer Morons and Jaskier standing in a circle in the kitchen, taking turns slapping each other in the face with flatbread.

"Why is my kitchen floor soaking wet--and what the ever-loving f**k are you a**wipes doing with my tortillas? Those are for tomorrow! Look at this mess, there's water and piles of crumbs every where!"

Lambert, brain sparking and fizzing with sugar and caffeine, decided it would be a great idea to open his mouth and snap "F**k off, witch! We're busy!"

No one could quite remember how it happened, but the next thing they all knew, they were all on their hands and knees, picking up every last piece of tortilla shrapnel, and thoroughly scrubbing the kitchen floor with toothbrushes.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #twn #the witcher headcanon #the witcher modern au #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geraskifer #geraskefer #yenralt #yenskier #yennskier #yenneskier #yennaskier #coen #aiden #lambert #eskel #kaer morons #error 404 brain not found headcanon #error 404 headcanon #brain not found headcanon

[cecescomposition]

@febuwhump Day 7: Forced to Watch

Hello, Lovelies! Big thanks to @that-gal-kay for helping me with this idea! Many many a credit to her!

The fever was ravishing the camp like a new plague. The doctors tried to quarantine it, that didn’t help anything. Eventually the doctors ended up sick, as well. Whatever this sickness was, it was fast and aggressive. Men were dropping like flies, it seemed as though this illness was taking more lives than the entire cause.

General Washington pleaded with Congress, for more medicine, more doctors, anything. Congress did nothing.

So the anger Washington felt when Alexander Hamilton fell ill was entirely directed at them.

And at himself. And at whoever Hamilton got the fever from. And at Alexander for not staying inside, where it’s safe.

Washington was sat in the chair next to Hamilton’s cot. He hadn’t left Alexander’s side since the news of his illness had reached him. One of the last remaining medics, a transfer from Albany, had tried his best to keep Washington away from the boy, (no force on Heaven or Earth could ever do so) Washington would catch the fever himself. They could not afford to lose the general.

Nevertheless, Washington had rushed to the boy’s side, taking care of him as only a father could. The boy was laying in Washington’s own room, he would not allow Alexander to catch even more if his death in the medical tent. He had been asleep for nearly eight hours, occasionally spasming or moaning softly in pain.

Washington did what he could; keeping a cool cloth on the aide’s head, changing his sheets often, holding him. George didn’t have a care in the world for his own health - he just wanted Alexander to be okay.

Hamilton stirred, for the first time since he had been moved to this room. Washington perked up, quickly lighting a candle on the bedside table. Night had long fallen at this point.

“Mn… Sir?” Hamilton groaned softly, his voice hoarse with sleep.

“Hamilton,” Washington smiled. He was thrilled to see his boy awake.

“Wh’a time’s it?” Hamilton worried, attempting to pull himself into a seated position, “I can work… din’t mean to fall ‘sleep… sir.”

Washington gently pushed the boy back down. “No work for you, dear heart. Just rest now, it’s okay,” he cooed.

“Sick?”

“Sick.”

“Like Jack?”

John Laurens, Washington cringed. Laurens has been taken by the fever a mere month prior. Washington remembered how Alexander had shut himself away, literally and metaphorically. He became even more withdrawn and distant than usual, everyone could tell the death of his best friend took an incredible toll on the boy. They all knew it was just another loss to add to the list.

Washington recalled how Hamilton had sat by John’s bedside just as he was now.

“Yes,” Washington ground out. “Like Jack.”

Hamilton was already asleep again.

He didn’t wake again for another few hours. It was just before dawn when Washington felt the small hand in his own shift. He lifted his head, gosh how his neck ached from sleeping in this chair, to see Hamilton stirring restlessly in his sleep, tossing his head side to side with his sweaty brow pinched together.

“Alexander,” Washington gently shook his aide. “Time to wake up son, come on. You can do it.”

Alexander jolted awake with a gasp. In the candlelight, George could see the tears that burned in his cloudy eyes.

“Oh, dear boy,” Washington sighed. He took the now warm cloth from where it had fallen next to Alexander’s head, and rose to soak it in the basin.

“Pa…”

Washington froze at that. He spun around, and yes, Hamilton was looking at him. He was delirious, Washington knew that, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart swell for Alexander to call him that.

George made his way back to the bed, drawing the cloth over Hamilton’s skin. Alexander sighed at the cool water.

“I’m right here, Alexander,” George cooed softly.

“Pa, it hurts.”

“What hurts, dear?”

“Everything. And… and here,” Hamilton moved to touch his chest.

“You’re sick, Alexander, it’s okay. The pain will be gone soon. You just need to rest.”

Alexander recovered quickly after that. When he awoke the next morning, he had no recollection of their previous interaction. For George, it was a blessing that Hamilton did not remember, lest he become cross over the attention he was receiving.

Despite Washington’s protests, Alexander was back to work within the week. George told him, he had told the stupid boy he should rest more, that he was no good to the war if he worked himself ill again.

“I’ve pressing things to do,” Alexander would always respond.

There was one day, six evenings after their conversation, when Hamilton’s condition worsened again. It had just been a small cough at first, no more than the boy inadvertently clearing his throat. Then it became coughing fits, teary eyes. His writing never stopped. By that evening Washington was done watching the poor boy do this to himself.

“Time for bed, Lieutenant,” he said with no aggression behind his voice.

“I cannot possibly rest now, sir,” Hamilton said without looking up, the movements of his quill never stopping. Washington sighed and moved to grab the boy’s arm to pull him up himself. As soon as George’s hand touched Hamilton’s arm, the boy heaved a sudden sob and shot out of his chair.

“Don’t touch me!”

Washington took a startled step back. Hamilton’s chest was heaving as he dissolved into another fit of coughing - choking. George reached out to steady the boy, only to be pushed back again.

“Please, sir, you may get sick,” Hamilton pleaded. Washington was mildly offended at being shoved away, not realizing it was Alexander’s fear of losing him the way he did John, his mother…

Washington did know the boy was not in his right mind, because he had tears running down his flushed face. Hamilton would never allow Washington to see him cry.

George moved the chair out of the way and grabbed the boy’s shoulder’s to stop his swaying (and hold the child still when he fought against his hold).

“So you are with fever, yes?” Washington asked gently. Hamilton sniffed and nodded. George turned and entered the hallway, stopping a servant boy and requesting for him to bring the medic to his rooms, Hamilton was ill again. When he turned back, Alexander was pressed against the back wall, crying still, but staring at something beyond Washington.

“Come to me, son. Let’s get you into your bed,” Washington prodded, moving closer to the delirious aide. When Hamilton didn’t respond, Washington’s brow furrowed in concern. Hamilton had never failed to answer his call before now.

“Son?”

Hamilton tilted his head and furrowed his brow, still gazing over Washington’s shoulder as if that wall was so interesting.

“John…?”

Then suddenly, he was pitching forward into Washington’s arms.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday7 #febuwhump2023 #alexander hamilton #hamilton musical #hamilton fanfic #hamilton au #george washington #john laurens #george washingdad #hamilton fanfiction

[n3nsha]

Looking for spun fun in South mn.

#spun alone #tweak #meth friends #pnp spun

[viktheviking1]

The Pompous and The Prick Fanfic

Chapter 7: Everyone Should Cry More

Typically, the Stolas mansion was dead silent, without even a single creaky floorboard to announce a living presence. It was as schrödinger's box; with everything in it could be dead or alive and you wouldn’t know until you looked inside. At least, that's how it was on a usual day.

"Sh*t!" Stolas screamed, turning over furniture, "Blast it all to hell and up your father's *ss!"

Loona heard this from outside, but was busy looking up at just how big the mansion was, mouth agape. She traced her hand along the smooth curve of a pillar. D*mn, what was Blitz running from again?

Octavia, however, heard the expletives and approached with caution.

"That . . . Is unusual. Maybe wait on the doorstep? It's not that he would hurt you, I just don't want him to have an aneurysm if he realizes that you heard all that." Octavia said to Loona before she opened the door. She began sneaking through the palace, hearing crashing and the occasional curse from Stolas, only some of which made sense.

“. . . Dad?” she peeked her head through the open door.

Stolas spun around so fast, his head had to catch up with the rest of his body, “V-Via! Darling! How long have you been home? Don’t mind me, dear, I’m just doing some . . . cleaning! Yes, cleaning; I’m sorting things that need to be thrown out, and things to keep. You know how the saying goes, you gotta make a mess to clean a mess!” He said, before tripping over some books on the floor.

Via looked around at the overturned nightstands, sheets stripped off the bed, vanity drawers emptied of their contents, “Yeah . . . very organized sorting.”

Stolas sighed, leaning against his bed frame which was now several meters away from where it usually was, "Alright, I'm looking for something I've lost. I'm sure I never took it out of this room. Still, it was a light blue envelope, if you see it, please give it to me directly, and for heaven's sake, do not open it. There are things in there that a young child should not read." He went back to looking around and rummaging through his own reckage like a maniac.

"I'm not a young child anymore." She said, leaning on the door frame.

Stolas paused his chaos to look her dead in the eyes, "Okay, then there are things in there that my child should not read. It was addressed to Blitz. I was never going to send it, of course. It was just an exercise advised by my therapist."

"You go to therapy . . .?" This was news to Via.

"I was planning on burying it in my garden, or perhaps throwing it poetically into a brimstone lake on a family trip together, but if I don't know where it is, then anyone could have gotten their hands on it. And just when you had specifically asked me to lay low in the media, too-" Stolas's eyes wandered over to where the grimoire usually was held on the shelf, ". . . Sh*t . . . I know where it is."

He began gathering his coat and barrelling past her..

"You mind if I have a friend over-?" Via called after him.

"Of course, darling! They can help themselves to whatever's in the fridge!" He shouted as he ran.

"Hi, Stolas." Loona smiled and waved as the prince ran out of the house.

"Hi, Loona. Sorry, not now." Stolas said without looking, “Where the devil is the car?!”

“Uhh . . . Don’t you, like, portal everywhere?” Loona cocked an eyebrow up at him.

“Oh, right! Thank you dear!” He called back, and made a portal in front of himself.

Octavia walked over to Loona and they watched Stolas leave.

“Where the f**k is he going in such a hurry?” Loona asked.

"No idea, but he'll probably realize that you were here, later. At least the aneurysm will be someone else's problem. Come on, let's go."

#octavia goetia #helluva octavia #octavia helluva #octavia helluva boss #loona hellhound #loona helluva boss #helluva loona #octavia x loona #helluva stolas #stolas helluva boss #blitzxstolas #fanficromance #stolas #fanfiction #gayfanfic #gayromance #helluvaboss #feels #romance #blitzo #helluva boss octavia #helluva boss loona #hellaverse #vivzieverse #helluva boss stolas #stolas goetia #prince stolas #blitz x stolas #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

[justanotherblonde]

SasoDei Week, Day 4

One Last Chance

Chapter 3: Argument (AO3)

“Time’s running out, Sasori,” Deidara taunted. “What will you choose?”

The time-bomb’s clock-face pulled Sasori's gaze: 4:19. 4:18. 4:17.

“Deidara,” Sasori began slowly. “Please. I’m begging you, and you know I don’t beg. Disarm the bomb, and walk away. I’ll tell the Society what happened, and we can arrange something. Whatever the buyer wants, we’ll negotiate a compromise. Just don’t take Third. Don’t do this to me.”

“It always had to be about you, didn’t it?” Deidara scoffed. “The buyer specifically wants Third, and as many artefacts as I can get out of here before the police turn up. Kakuzu and Hidan are waiting downstairs with a forklift and a truck. So I ask you again: what’ll it be? Let us go, or die here, mn?”

“You’ve always been so dramatic,” Sasori sneered. “Would you really forfeit your life to stop me from getting what I want?”

Deidara let out an incredulous laugh. “Again, you think it’s about you! This isn’t about you, Sasori, mn!”

Sasori’s heart was in his throat. “I think it is! It has to be! It has to be personal! Why else would you be here if it wasn’t to ruin my life!” He spun away, caught up in his emotions. He ran frantic fingers through his hair. “Why, Deidara? Why are you here, of all people?”

“You have three minutes, mn.”

Or start from Chapter 1: Mythology (AO3)

@sasodeiweek

#sasodeiweek2023 #sasodeiweek #day 4: arguments #justanotherblonde #my writing #sasori #deidara #archaeology AU #day 6: timebomb #featuring heavily in that there extract haha

[plan-d-to-i]

I have never understood why people see the library scene in the incense burner chapter as something that lwj fantasise about. When i read that scene, i specifically remember wwx describing this exact scene when they had sex outside. So basically to me the incense burner chapters is a manifestation of wwx’s teasing/rape kink. With the kiss in the mountains we saw how he reacted to what he did. I think it has been established a couple of times that lwj would never do something that wwx doesn’t want to do. Not even fantasising about it.

Ah, I'm sorry to contradict you, I too believe it's something LWJ fantasizes about... I think people have written more in depth on this, but take this moment:

Wei WuXian leaped down, tightly hugging Lan WangJi whose entire head was covered, and pushed him onto the bed, “Rape!”

Lan WangJi, “…”

Wei WuXian’s hands vulgarly touched and fumbled around his body, yet Lan WangJi still lay as quiet as dead, letting him do whatever he pleased. Wei WuXian lost interest just a while later, “HanGuang-Jun, why don’t you even resist a bit? If you’re just lying there not even moving, what’s the fun of me raping you?”

Lan WangJi’s muffled voice came through the blanket, “What do you want me to do?”

Wei WuXian advised, “When I hold you down, you’re gonna push me and not let me get on top of you, and squeeze your legs together and struggle as hard as you can, at the same time scream for help…”

Lan WangJi, “Making noise is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses.”

Wei WuXian, “Then you can call for help lightly. And also, when I rip your clothes apart, you should try your best to resist and protect your chest.”

The blanket was silent for a while.

A moment later, Lan WangJi replied, “It sounds rather difficult.”

Wei WuXian, “Really?!”

Lan WangJi, “Mn.”

Wei WuXian, “I’m out of ideas, then. How about we change things up and you rape me instead…”

Before he finished, his view spun and the blankets flew off. Lan WangJi had already pushed him onto the bed.

Because he was smothered inside the blanket by Wei WuXian for quite a while, even his eternally-neat hair tie and forehead ribbon were somewhat crooked. His hair was somewhat disheveled, a few strands dangling down, and his originally jade-white cheeks shone through with soft pink. Under the candlelight, he was quite the bashful beauty. Unfortunately, though, the beauty’s arm strength was absurdly great, firmly locked around Wei WuXian like clamps of iron as he begged, “HanGuang-Jun, HanGuang-Jun, to forgive is a virtue.”

Lan WangJi’s eyes didn’t waver, while the two bright flames of the candle trembled in their reflection. His expression was calm, “Yes.”

Wei WuXian, “Yes what? Handstand? Rape? Hey! My clothes.”

Lan WangJi, “You said so yourself.”

As he spoke, he set his body between Wei WuXian’s legs and stayed for a while. Wei WuXian waited for a while, but nothing came, “What!”

Lan WangJi straightened up slightly, “Why do you not resist?”

LWJ when WWX says he's going to r him: 😐🥱

LWJ when WWX suggests they switch: ✨🔥✨

LOL! But there's nothing wrong with it!!! There's nothing wrong with them having this cnc fantasy and exploring it with each other with consent. ofc a story isn't going to read like a consent guidebook and people shouldn't take it as such but no one is getting the short end of the stick in this relationship. Or being forced to do something they don't want to do. People are being a bit puritanical about this 🥲.

#mdzs #answers #spicy talk #tw rape

[bagelrites]

"Missed Me?"

DNF Airport Fluff / George Coming Home

Dream was surprised when they made it through the airport without being recognized, or at least not recognized enough for fans to come up to them asking for pictures.

It almost made George’s “only one short hug at the gate and no kissing until we get to the car” rule seem pointless, but Dream followed it anyways, because he’s a good boyfriend like that. The second they got to the car, however, Dream’s arms wrapped around George’s shoulders, clinging to him from behind like a koala hugging a tree.

“George, I missed you.” He drew out the sound of his name, his voice as pouty as his lips and wet as his eyes.

“Dream, stop, I need to get this in the trunk.” George laughed it off, pushing down the handle of his luggage. “We can, like, make out in the car, or whatever.”

“Mm-mn.” Dream shook his head, letting his curls slap against George’s cheek. “Say you missed me, too.”

“What? Ew, no.” George crinkled up his nose.

“Please?”

“Dream, come on, I want to get home already.”

“Please?”

“Ugh, you are so annoying, I’m doing it myself.” George reached around behind Dream, patting down his pockets, and Dream giggled into the crook of his neck.

“Wow, George, you get back from weeks away from me, and the first thing you do is grab my ass?” he said.

“I’m looking for the keys, you idiot!” George barked out the words through a laugh, his face gone completely red. He was trying to turn around, but Dream stayed stuck to his shoulders, and spun around with him. “If you don’t like it, do it yourself!”

“I’m just a piece of meat to you, huh? You only missed my assets?” Dream joked, and George tried and failed to contain his laughter as he at last found the keys in Dream’s front left pocket and snatched them away. 

The car beeped as he unlocked it and popped the trunk open, and Dream sunk his weight into him to be extra unhelpful as George tried to lift his luggage. George groaned in annoyance, but got it up eventually, and slammed the trunk shut.

“There! Now get off me and get in the car,” he said.

“Nu-uh. Not until you say you missed me,” Dream said.

“What is wrong with you, today?” George tried elbowing him in the stomach to get him off, but Dream didn’t budge. “I’m tired, Dream, just take me home already.”

Dream hummed, considering it. He didn’t want to actually torture George, but he could tell from the tone of his voice, the little giggle that stayed caught in the back of his throat, that that wasn’t what was happening.

“No. You know the rules.”

“Oh my god.” George stomped his foot against the ground like an angry rabbit, then sighed and let his arms hang by his sides. “Fine. I missed you too, Dream.”

“Aww, thank you Georgie.” Dream finally released him, his smile beaming ear to ear, and moved toward the driver’s side door. He expected George to break away and head for the other side of the car, but instead he stopped Dream with a hand on his elbow and turned him to face him.

“You’re an idiot,” George said, those words softer and more full of love than Dream had ever thought he’d heard them before, and pulled Dream in for a kiss. 

Dream grunted in surprise, but his hand was on the back of George’s head in an instant, pressing him closer, deeper, until he could feel George’s teeth behind his lips. All the jokes and the teasing rushed out of him, replaced by a quiet, warm feeling of reciprocated need. Not so much for each other’s bodies, but for each other’s presence. That face-to-face connection, that bruising kiss and fluttering touch. That sunlight smile and hands hidden in hoodie sleeves, giggles curled up into collarbones. 

God, how he’d missed George—and he knew, without him even having to say it, how much he missed him back.

#dreamnotfound #dnf #dreamnotfound fanfic #dnf fanfic #dreamwastaken #dream #georgenotfound #gnf #my fic #my writing #drabble

[xsm0kah0ntasx]

Newly single! Who's out there?!

#newly single #spun #fun #Mn

[hotfunncouple]

Horny and spun couple in the great city of Duluth Mn on the big Lake .. looking for other fun and hardy / horny Minnesotans !!

[kurosawa-family]

(International Kissing Day 🏃‍♀️✨✨)

[Kazuha strolled with poise up to Convoitise’s side and wordlessly plopped down on the seat next to him, gingerly fixing her skirt with a thoughtful expression. With a deep breath to gather courage, she hastily spun to face him and planted a rather meek kiss right on the corner of his mouth.]

“Mn—!”

[That done, she backed up and cleared her throat, but said nothing else.]

It's international kissing day~ Come into my inbox and give my muse a kiss for any reason!

AdminRosy: LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

[ He was frozen.

He looked like something shocking happened, but as time went by, his face turned pink and he became shy. ]

Th-Thank you... My love...

[ He turned slowly, and kissed her cheek. ]

Happy international kissing day...!

#multi fandom blog #multi fandom #multifandom #multifandom crossover #multifandom friendly #multifandom ocs #multifandom oc #multifandom roleplay #multifandom rp #multifandom au #multifandom asks #ask multifandom #multifandom ask #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers oc #diabolik lovers ocs #diabolik lovers roleplay #diabolik lovers rp #diabolik lovers au #diabolik lovers asks #ask diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers ask #diabolik lovers ask blog #Ask The Kurosawa Family #the kurosawa family #kurosawa family #Convoitise Kurosawa #answered #dj-diabolik-fan #daughter-of-royalty

[rookseeksraven]

I'm back again with this karaoke AU...Hopefully coming to you soon

“Wow,” Wei Ying laughed. “For a sleep drunk person your reflexes are amazing!” Wei Ying giggled, his chin digging into Lan Wangji’s shoulder. He had not yet pulled his wrist from Lan Wangji’s grip, and for a moment, they stood in the entry-way of their apartment, chest to chest, one set of hands raised up, and Lan Wangji’s other arm wrapped around Wei Ying’s waist for support, as if they were slow dancing.

“Mn.”

Wei Ying turned his head slightly, a soft sigh as he laid his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, the breath ghosting over his neck. He could not suppress the shiver. “A long day.” Wei Ying breathed. And then Wei Ying did sway on his feet, unheard music wrapped around him. Lan Wangji gripped Wei Ying tighter.

And then Wei Ying wrenched himself away. “Sorry! Right. Bed. Let’s do this.” And Lan Wangji spun out from the gravitational pull, untethered, a rogue planet in the darkness, searching for a star.

After a hilarious attempt to tip a glass of water into Lan Wangji’s throat, and he protested finally that he was sleepy and not actually drunk, Wei Ying walked Lan Wangji to his bedroom door.

“Now, get into your pajamas. You’ll be so upset if you sleep in your outside clothes.”

Lan Wangji grumbled.

“Hey! All those times you yelled at me for sitting on the bed in my outside clothes, I know that your skin will crawl if you wake up like that tomorrow!” He shook a finger in his face. “Don’t make me come in there.”

Please. He could go into his room any time he wanted. Why did he never go in his room?

“Now, sleep time!” Wei Ying twisted the knob to the bedroom door, and gave Lan Wangji a light shove. “Good night.”

Lan Wangji spun around and caught both of Wei Ying’s wrists this time. Wei Ying gasped, a soft, fluttering sound caught between his lips. (They were chapped again. Lan Wangji made a mental note to fill up a water bottle for him tomorrow.) He kneaded the wrists, a light, reassuring touch, sending as much warmth as he could between them.

“Lan Zhan…” The broken voice on the second syllable snapped in him, and he surged up to cup Wei Ying’s face.

“Wei Ying.” They stared at each other, Lan Wangji caught in the sheen of silver, for a moment, for eternity, the length of a sonata, the length of Neptune’s orbit. He caught the moment Wei Ying’s eyes flicked down Lan Wangji’s face and then back up to his eyes. And he let himself for just one second, one breath, one speck of time to think about Wei Ying loving him like he loved Wei Ying.

Wei Ying huffed. “Go to bed, sleepy head.” And he slipped away, swallowed by the darkness of the hallway, leaving Lan Wangji at his open door, poised on the threshold of something. Something.

#wip wednesday #mdzsww #mdzs #wangxian #fanfiction #modern au #karaoke au

[n3nsha]

Anyone help me get spun here in Southern MN? My guy isn't around anymore

#meth minnesota #spun alone #meth friends #spun tweak