#Need it to come faster

[chronoarts]

SOOOO fucking excited to see David and Michael with red and white hair again. I don't think you'll ever hear from me again once filming starts and once behind the scenes content gets out. It'll be a fucking international holiday once filming for GO3 starts.

[m1nsur0]

A most precious treasure

[lotus-pear]

ace detective more like ace DEFECTIVE

[celuere]

late night thoughts about desperate arle god i need her BAD.

what if she is on a strict no-sex-rule.

take an injury as reason for the death penalty, but just SOMETHING about starving the fourth fatui harbinger of your pussy is just SO NGH. having this walking symbol of power and authority on her literal knees, BEGGING you to at least let her have a taste of you as long as she may feel something.

„ma amour, s'il te plaît- je ferai n'importe quoia-”, she‘d mumble as needy lips ghost over the plush of your inner thighs, leaving a trail of burning kisses along your skin.

„my love, please- i will do anything-”

god forbid you tell one of snezhnaya‘s most feared diplomats that she is to refrain from any penetrating intercourse with her wife. she had to ask the doctor to repeat herself twice.

this equals a death sentence.

arlecchino is a master of many talents. assassinations. sword-fighting. poisoning. negotiating. keeping the upper hand in any conversation.

but resisting her wife? her perfect, utterly gorgeous wife?

you are expecting a little much from her, aren’t you?

the first few weeks were no match for her. a few naughty thoughts here and there but with time, the urging feeling in her pants grew. and suddenly everything you did seemed to affect her. hard.

showing some cleavage? she can’t seem to rip her eyes off of you.

tying up your hair in a ponytail? a certain image of you with a full mouth of her will burn itself into her imagination.

coming out of the shower in nothing but a towel covering you? her pants are suddenly getting awfully tight.

having to lay next to you in the same bed? she is going fucking feral.

and she is hitting rock bottom right now.

„arle… you have to be careful with your wound- c-come on get up from the floor, it’s cold…“, you patted her toned shoulders in order to signal her to finally stand back up from her knees. even if your pussy was screaming for her.

„i‘m fine down here- i‘m not at risk in this position, my love- i‘ll be good, i promise-”, her mouth finally pressed a kissed to your already damp slip, „so good….“

goodness. goodness her begging is doing things to you.

you didn’t know she had that kind of tone in herself. to plea for mercy in form of your cunt as she peppers desperate kisses all over your clothed slit. whimpers finding their ways over her lips as she chants your name like a prayer to the gods.

you merely pushed your panties aside for her.

and she let out a whine so fucking pathetic at the sight of your slick pussy it almost pushes you over the fucking edge.

acting like a starving woman over her wife’s intimate parts.

they called her insane for good.

[kittyoperas]

Quick paint of Davrin (aka the prettiest guy ever)

[purinbunnii]

Sylus Headcanons

1. Sylus fucking lives to tease you.

• He’ll drag it out forever, just to watch you fall apart: slow as hell kisses, the barest touches, low, dirty whispers that leave your skin burning.

• His favorite thing is seeing you needy, whimpering, desperate for it — and he’ll smirk right in your face like the bastard he is:

“What’s wrong, baby? You want my cock that bad already? Fuck, that’s cute.”

• He’ll edge you mercilessly — pulling back every time you’re close — until you’re practically crying for it, all while he just laughs under his breath, amused at how badly you want him.

⸻

2. He’s a handsy little shit — especially when he shouldn’t be.

• Sylus has no concept of keeping his hands to himself.

• At dinner? His fingers are sliding under your dress. In public? He’s palming your ass with a cocky little smirk.

• He loves making you squirm, biting your lip to stay quiet while he teases you ruthlessly.

• Sometimes he’ll lean in real close, voice low and dirty, and whisper:

“The second we’re alone, I’m gonna bend you over and fuck you so good you’ll forget your own goddamn name.”

• And when the door finally closes? He makes good on every filthy promise.

⸻

3. Sylus is a fucking god at oral — and he fucking knows it.

• When he’s between your thighs, he’s relentless: slow, deep, messy — like he needs to taste you until you’re shaking.

• He loves the way you whimper and beg, the way you fist his hair and moan his name like a prayer.

• He doesn’t stop until you’re a wreck, overstimulated and sobbing, and even then he’ll drag it out just to hear you fucking scream for him.

• When you’re on your knees for him? He’s vocal as hell:

“Fuck, just like that, kitten. That’s it. Goddamn, you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat.”

• He’ll grip your hair tight, groaning low and filthy, losing that perfect control he usually likes to flex.

⸻

4. He’s a dom — but he fucking loves when you fight him a little.

• Sylus loves pinning you down, forcing you to take it just how he wants — but if you get a little bratty, if you push him, he gets off on it.

• If you ride him, grinding down until he’s cursing and gripping your hips hard enough to bruise? You’ll see that cocky composure shatter fast.

• He’ll pant against your throat, voice rough and desperate:

“Fuck, baby, you wanna be in charge? Fine. Fuck yourself on my cock. Show me how bad you fucking want it.”

• He’ll still flip you over eventually — Sylus can’t resist claiming you when you’re all flushed and trembling.

⸻

5. Dirty talk is just second nature to him.

• Every filthy thought that crosses Sylus’s mind? He says it — right in your ear while he’s pounding into you so hard the bed shakes.

• He’s fucking relentless with the filth that falls from his mouth:

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight. You feel that? That’s me, baby. Gonna fill you up until you can’t even fucking think.”

• He won’t shut up — praising you, degrading you, whispering about how good you feel, how fucking wrecked you look under him.

• Aftercare? He’s softer — but still dirty, murmuring:

“You took it so fucking good, sweet thing. Shit, look at you… fuckin’ perfect.”

⸻

6. He’s obsessed with marking you up.

• Hickeys all over your thighs. Bite marks on your tits. Scratches down your back.

• He needs to see his claim on you — and he gets fucking feral if someone else even looks at you afterward.

• He’ll mutter shit like:

“No hiding ‘em, kitten. Everyone’s gonna see who you fucking belong to.”

• If you leave scratches on him? It drives him fucking wild — like you’re staking a claim right back.

⸻

7. Despite all the cocky filth, he’s sensual as fuck when it counts.

• When Sylus really fucks you — it’s not just rough and dirty (though it is that too) — it’s slow, deep, overwhelming.

• He kisses you like he’s starving, touches you like you’re something precious, moves inside you like he’s trying to memorize every fucking second.

• He grits out your name against your skin, voice wrecked with feeling he won’t admit:

“Mine. You fucking hear me, baby? You’re mine.”

• And when he finally comes? It’s with a deep groan against your neck, his hands clutching you like he’ll never let go.

[isjasz]

CRASH LANDS ON THE FLOOR

HI HELLO I've uploaded some more recent pieces to my inprnt shop! :D Check it out if you'd like and there is $5 worldwide shipping all friday long tdy💥

[aprilblossomgirl]

[Official Trailer] เธมโป้ (ThamePo) Heart That Skips a Beat (2024- )

[genshin-impact-updates]

Character Trailer - "Kinich: Fiery Pursuit" | Genshin Impact

The hunt may be arduous or conclude in the blink of an eye, but for Kinich, there are only two crucial steps: the beginning and the end.

As for the remaining issues, well, they'll be devoured whole by the ravenous and ambitious Ajaw.

[damnamour]

CORONATION STREET ― 2nd October 2024

[lamina-tsrif]

6 days left!!!

[bwootster]

So… Arcane.

[bie-tch]

Rewatching the trailer again

[luminique]

manifesting on your porch like a terrible fox from the woods and dropping this in your inbox like a gift hello darling. how would mr lighter react when you give him a hand-crocheted scarf to wear when his usual one is in the wash or needs some repairs since he singed it (again)

HI MY LOVE !! i accept this very lovely gift in my inbox :D

i think his usual one has significance to him, not so sure what but i hope it comes up in his story. according to what i’ve read in/out of game, his red scarf is what makes him lighter. that being said, i think he does feel a little bare without it around his neck. he’d try the hand crocheted scarf and it feels COMPLETELY DIFFERENT to his scarf.

admittedly, the texture is a lot softer than his scarf, less fire resistant though. the one problem he has with it is that it’s TOO obvious that it was gifted and handmade FOR HIM. that doesn’t match with his cool guy personality !! but the look on your face when you were holding it out for him… how could he reject? i mean, he would never reject but now wearing it out in public made him embarrassed.

the others in the SoC immediately noticed it and are all teasing him in their own way. he’s turning the same shade of red as his usual scarf, but in between all the teasing, they’re complimenting it. the craftsmanship, how well it looks with his outfit. he wouldn’t admit it, but he agreed with them.

now that you’re back with his usual scarf, he’s a little relieved but also missing the feel of your handmade scarf. as you wrap and tie his scarf around his neck, he’s holding the other scarf tightly in his hands, not saying much. but you could tell behind his shades, that he’ll definitely keep that scarf close to him at all times.

[shanklin]

Stanford never became friends with Fiddleford.

Instead he got himself a different small friend group who cares a lot about him. At least about the Ford he pretended to be in college.

A kind, soft spoken formerly bullied genius who researches very dull stuff in Oregon and definitely not anything weird. Their Ford would never break any rules or ignore safety measures [unlike that other student they heard about during their college years.]

And then Ford stops answering their calls and loses his grant. 

It’s time for an intervention and they start pestering Ford with letters and calls until he finally agrees to meet them at a science convention, but he’ll take his brother with him.

They’re relieved! Ford is with Shermie! They like Shermie! It's a good thing that Ford still has one brother who isn't a good for nothing selfish criminal who destroyed his entire future!

If they ever get their hands on Ford’s evil twin they’ll make sure he’ll regret ever messing with their friend. Ford is too nice for revenge. They aren’t.

Meanwhile at the not-yet Mystery Shack, the Stans freshly survived their own angsty canon divergent tale of two stans AU and locked Bill out of Ford's mind like a week ago.

Stan: I don’t know how long Ford will keep me around but this will be good for him. He needs some friends to take care of him after I inevitably get kicked out again!

Ford: I only agreed to this because Stan insisted and I still haven’t found a way to thank him and apologize. I hope all my “friends” die in a fire.

[purinbunnii]

Soft Like This

“I’m always soft with you. You’re the only one who ever made it feel safe to be.”

They were supposed to be prepping dinner.

The cutting board still had half-sliced cucumbers, and the warm kitchen smelled faintly of ginger and soy. But somewhere between the teasing and the stolen kisses, Sylus ended up on the floor, his head resting on her thighs like it belonged there.

She sat above him, brushing soft foam across his cheeks with careful fingers, her sweater sleeves pushed up to her elbows. He had a clay mask half-done on his face, cucumber slices waiting on a dish beside them. The sunlight made her hair glow. She smelled like lavender and something that made his chest ache in that terrifyingly gentle way.

His red eyes watched her quietly, lids heavy with the comfort only she could give.

And then he said it—so soft it almost didn’t land, like he wasn’t sure if it was allowed to be said aloud.

“If you were also an art piece,” Sylus murmured, his voice low and rough like velvet over gravel, “then whoever created you must have loved you dearly.”

Her hands stilled on his cheeks. She blinked, caught off guard. The intimacy of his words bloomed in her chest like heat.

“Sylus…” she breathed, unsure if she wanted to kiss him or cry.

He reached up, brushing the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. “I mean it,” he said, gazing at her like she was something divine. “No one ends up looking at someone the way I look at you unless you were crafted with love.”

She leaned down, kissing the corner of his mouth, the mask still wet between them. “You’re a sap.”

“Maybe,” he grinned, half-lidded, eyes tracing her face. “But I’m your sap.”

They stayed on the kitchen floor like that, cucumbers forgotten, warmth wrapped around them like a second skin. She finally finished applying the mask, pressing the slices to his eyes, and he let her—content, pampered, adored.

And beneath the layers of skincare and banter, love whispered quiet and sure in every touch.

The cucumbers slowly slid down his face.

“You’re not supposed to move,” she chided gently, trying not to laugh as one landed near his temple. “Defeats the whole purpose of a spa night.”

Sylus cracked one eye open, red gleaming from beneath his lashes. “Hard to stay still when you’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m not wearing a ridiculous green mask and half a vegetable on my face.”

She chuckled and tucked a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. “You’re cute when you’re soft.”

“I’m always soft with you,” he murmured. “You’re the only one who ever made it feel safe to be.”

Her throat tightened. He said things like that sometimes—quiet confessions that landed deeper than either of them expected. He never said them to get a reaction. He just… needed her to know.

She leaned forward and rested her forehead gently against his. The tiles beneath them were warm from the oven still running, and her legs had fallen asleep, but she didn’t care.

“I like you like this,” she whispered. “Not the vampire who disappears into the night. Just you. On the floor. With cucumbers and too many candles burning for two people.”

Sylus smiled slowly, eyes fluttering closed. “That reminds me. We’re probably going to set off the fire alarm again.”

“Not my fault you lit six tea lights just to ‘set the mood.’”

He chuckled, and she felt it in his chest as he curled his fingers around her wrist, holding her hand where it still cradled his jaw. He kissed her palm once—just once—and didn’t say anything else.

There was no rush to move. No monsters outside their door. No ghosts of past lives pressing between them.

Just the slow rhythm of breathing together, the scent of warm herbs in the air, and the kind of love that didn’t need to shout to be heard.