#c/y

[davetada]

Julian

Ktown, LA, CA

[thewebcomicsreview]

[ultralowoxygen]

Connemara Evening by Anthony Cronin Via Flickr: Fishermen in Connemara, Western Ireland tend to their crop of seaweed. Contax RX. 135mm f2.0 Carl Zeiss lens. Provia 100 film.

[inkdrinkerworld]

ooo and maybe "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." with bob floyd he’s my babygirl <3 (no pressure for either of these ofc x)

Mal I know this was from the last sleepover list but I couldn’t pass up on writing something for Bobby!

Bob has a habit of never being able to sleep in. It's a Navy thing he's sure, needing to be up at 0500 hours every day to start the day with basic fitness training, logging into doing his checks for the day and then going to fly by 0730.

He can't sleep in ever.

It's why he's up now, but this is a much nicer reason to be awake at 0600. You're lying beside him, still asleep, with your face squished into your pillow.

Bob could watch you sleep for the rest of his life- he plans to honestly. But right now, he wants your company, and he wants to see your eyes.

He starts kindly enough with his wake-up protocol. "Darling," he whispers against your cheek, one of his hands falling on your neck and stroking the skin there softly.

"I miss you, wake up so I can see your face." he smears a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, a short path all the way to your ear.

You groan when you feel him press a kiss just under your ear, shifting slightly so your body is closer to him.

"Are you awake, darling?" he whispers, and you hum.

"No," it's all garbled and sleep laden that Bob can't help but lay another kiss on you.

"Oh okay, m'sorry love, but I miss your face." you shift so you're on your back and he can see your face more clearly, but you don't open your eyes.

Bob chuckles at the dramatics of it all- even half asleep you still manage it.

"I wanna see your eyes, darling." it's a little whiny but the man had been gone for a year, so sue him if he wanted a little bit of your attention at 0620 on a Sunday.

"Bobby," you whine, peeling your eyes open to find his baby blues already on you. "I love you, but I'm so tired."

He leans up on his elbow and presses a kiss to your lips. "Just missed your eyes." He cups your face, stroking your cheek as you shut your eyes again.

"Two more hours, Bobby then I'll be fully awake." you roll over, pressing your face into his chest. Bob's hand falls to the back of your head, scratching at the base of your neck as your breathing evens out.

He can wait another two hours; he'll have to because in no time he can hear your soft snores and smiles.

[nikonuee]

Shen Qingqiu but he's an ugly crier.

No single tear rolling down the face, immortal beauty for this transmigrator! He gets the full red, puffy-faced, swollen-eyed experience!

He's at the Immortal Alliance Conference trying to be cruel to Binghe but he's got snot running down his face and has to try and wheeze/hiccup through his Bad Guy Speech™️.

Meanwhile, Binghe's watching his usually inflappable Shizun fall apart and uses all 300 of his Protagonist IQ points to realise something's off.

System feels a sense of foreboding wash over it.

[katsukistofu]

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x teacher! fem reader. fluff. ⭑ he keeps staring. the kids notice.

In your five years of teaching, you never thought you’d see Dynamight sitting cross-legged on the daisy shaped carpet in the center of your classroom, while your kids swarm around him to paint his face.

Warmth spreads across your chest as you take it all in. It’s quite the sight, to see the big, buff, seasoned twenty five year old pro hero letting all these tiny toddlers take turns taking clumsy swipes at his face with the colorful paints you bought for them the week before for art class.

What you don’t notice is the way his eyes trail to you wherever you are in the classroom. When you move to open the windows to let the fresh air in, to wipe the chalkboard, even when you’re organizing the mess of crayons on your desk into their rightful bins.

“Why do you keep staring at our teacher?” One of them, a little boy wearing his t-shirt backwards, curiously pipes up. Everyone else nods in agreement, they’ve been wondering the exact same thing.

“You gonna tell her what I said when I leave later?” Katsuki raises a brow. A chorus of playful noooo’s follow him.

“We’re gonna tell her while you’re still here!”

These little brats. He’s barely known these kids for two hours and already he knows that they love you like a second mother, and wouldn’t be letting him go so easily. There’s fondness in his eyes as Katsuki chuckles and leans in, and the kids eagerly lean in to hear what he has to say.

“I’m starin’ cause she’s pretty.”

Gasps and nods of agreement spread across the carpet just as you clap your hands together, your sweet voice ringing through the classroom, to which everyone, including Katsuki with his paint bedazzled face, turns to give you their fullest attention.

“Alright my angels, let’s give Mr. Dynamight some space now okay?”

Curious little eyes glance back and forth between you and Dynamight with, when someone loudly pipes up, “Ms. L/n doesn’t have a boyfriend!”

“Mr. Dynamight thinks you’re pretty!”

“He stares at you like the way my brother stares at ice cream!”

“Hey I was going to say that!”

Bickering ensues across the carpet and you simply gape at them as a hint of a smirk appears on Katsuki’s face.

Should we tell them after class? He mouths in your direction.

No, you mouth back, covering a giggle behind your hand at the continued chaos of your kids behind your boyfriend.

A little homework never hurt anyone.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[satoblue]

MDNI, f!reader, ghost husband satoru (he is dead after shinjuku but is stuck between worlds and haunts you), a little angsty at first then smutty, masturbation (satoru ofc sigh he is a freak even when deceased), cumming on your face. | not proofread, will likely play around with this idea more in the future, dividers made by me

ghost husband satoru . . . if there is one thing that hasn’t changed about him even though he is without a corporeal form — it is that he is capable of turning any situation sexual. though, his freakiness proves rather helpful this time as it confirms that maybe you can sense him at times. it first happens when you’re asleep one night, and like usual, your husband is watching over you.

all he feels - and all you feel these past couple of days - is nothing but grief and heartbreak. both of you were mourning (though he was the only one who was technically dead) the loss of each other and how you’d no longer be able to hold one another. to kiss, to caress, to feel your heartbeats against your chests. he often finds himself lost in thought, gazing at something distant and out of his reach, sights strictly stuck on your form. you toss and turn — and satoru, he would always complain about your icy feet and how he’d wake up in the middle of the night to your foot on his cheek. but now, he wishes more than anything in the world to feel the chill of your skin than that of death.

with each passing night, you only grow more restless as satoru’s scent seems to dissipate from the sheets and from the air of your home. you feel even colder than normal, the bed no longer warm and inviting. there was no comforting presence alongside you, no loud snores and breaths right beside your ear as a certain someone invades your space. for once and for forever, you have the bed all to yourself — and you hate it.

eventually, at some point, you end up on your back, lightly snoring as you finally manage to shut your eyes. satoru lets out a breath of relief. at least you’d have a couple hours of sleep to properly function the next day. as he continues to stare, however, his eyes don’t fail to roam over you — attention shifting from your face to your heaving chest. he can tell you weren’t wearing a bra like usual — your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your shirt.

seconds pass as he looks, and the harder he does . . . the harder he gets down below. satoru’s head whips down in shock, a bit flustered at the way his cock twitches to (ironically) life. how could he still do that? this paranormal stuff is weird — his paranormal penis is weird. out of all the times to get an erection . . . your husband shoots his gaze towards you, where you lay all sprawled out, covers kicked off from your wrestle with an imaginary creature in your dreams (at least, that is what he picked up on from your sleepy mumbles).

could he even…… cum? — like this, he means. he didn’t even know he could get a boner in this state so it wouldn’t exactly hurt to try. satoru crawls atop the bed slowly — and it doesn’t shift or dip as if he’s lighter than a feather, like he doesn’t even exist. yet, he still does so quietly and carefully, as if scared to wake you even though he knows it isn’t possible. he makes his way on top of you, straddling you. and as he lingers above, looking down at the sight of your slightly parted lips in your slumber, spying a bit of drool at the corner — he can’t help but throb in his pants with interest. you look so innocent and peaceful, and yet, your filthy (dead) husband can’t help but be a freak at a moment like this by getting off to it.

after a bit of (no) contemplating, he tugs down the front of his pants, enough to free his cock just a bit. he hisses slightly as his tip meets the abnormally icy air and with a sigh, he starts stroking himself — right above your face. unbelievably, heat creeps up onto his face and spreads throughout his entire body. this was wrong, but . . . you wouldn’t mind right? it’s not as though you knew your husband whom you’ve been crying over for the past few weeks is jerking off on you while you sleep . . . as a ghost.

the hand stroking him works faster, and if he could, he’d probably be sweating by now. letting out a string of groans and whines, his tip leaks and dribbles a bit onto your shirt, but it doesn’t bleed through and soak it. with that, he feels a little bolder, more confident and assured in his depravity and runs his mushroom tip over your lips only to feel a mixture of irritation and disappointment as it does nothing for him. all it serves is sending a weird sensation down his spine at the contact.

regardless of that, satoru imagines himself cumming straight into your open mouth, the familiar coil in his stomach building and he starts strokes himself even quicker, breathless gasps permeating the air while his hips rut desperately into his own hand. and before he can stop himself — his cock explodes, sending rope after rope of his semen on your face.

with a flinch, your eyes shoot wide open. satoru yelps, jolting back in surprise, almost stumbling back but catching himself with a hand on the bedding.

you blink up at the ceiling, startled like a lamb, before your hand reaches up slowly. and if his heart could beat, it’d be thundering in his chest right about now. he swallows, watching closely as you feel around your face for whatever just hit you …….. only to find nothing.

huh?

the evidence of his transparent orgasm doesn’t budge the slightest bit as your fingers trace around the perimeter of your face. that is, until you sit up and he shuffles back a bit, making room for you even though he technically doesn’t have to (it’s more out of instinct). and right then, his seed starts dripping down, unable to defy gravity. but you can no longer sense it now, as if the odd sensation suddenly vanished.

but, you felt it. you felt the phantom feeling of him blowing his load all over your face. out of all the things he’s done so far to get you to acknowledge that he is here, that he’s touching you — that’s the first bit of contact you recognize?

[dollyfetti]

🍮⠀⠀ notes: popular!bakugou x nerdy!reader, fluffy, college au ‿ ୧ 🍡⠀ word count: 839

everyone's either in love with bakugou or wants to be him. he always has people bombarding him with questions about his quirk or trying to get close to him. he doesnt mind the attention. bakugou carries a large amount of pride that comes along with his popularity. he's worshipped, always walking the halls with people following him.

but then theres you. a silent girl in most of his classes. you keep to yourself in your own little world for the most part with very few close friends. your seat is in front of bakugou in all of your shared lectures, and you never bothered him, not once. truth be told, he never really thought about you until a specific night.

slamming his friend's car door shut, bakugou grumbles, "you idiots." he wasted yet another good night for studying. he threw it away by partying with people he didn't even find interesting. gosh, it's already 10:30. he wouldn't be able to stay awake. but he can't just go to sleep! nono, exams are too close. he needs glue all of the information he can into his brain. kirishima had recommended getting a study buddy-- who the hell would want to actually study with bakugou?? the girls would be distracted by his "huge muscles" and "unique hair" while any guys would be begging to see his quirk in action.

fuck this! katsuki doesn't need anyones help.

that confident thought bubble changes as he walks up the stairs to the dormitories. he remembers that quiet dork in most of his classes.. you seem pretty normal for the most part. a bit of a nerd too, so he wouldn't be worried about you having the wrong shit written down. with an ashamed grunt, he decides to find your dorm.

you munch on freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, going over notes you'd gotten from yesterday's lecture. you tiredly lean back against your chair in a tiny tank top and shorts with your hair up in a claw clip. you're slightly bopping your head to the quiet music playing in the background when you hear heavy thuds of someone walking towards your room. you perk up when said person knocks on your door softly. you happily smile, thinking maybe one of your friends are stopping by. excited you made so many cookies, you hurry to the door and swing it open.

with his hands dug into his pockets and drained frown, the katsuki bakugou stands at your door.. odd. "oh!" you squealed, your hand covering your mouth. "sorry, just-- wasn't expecting you." you nervously rub your arm, leaning against the door frame.

he lazily raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "you expectin' someone?"

you shake your head. "nope.." you mutter with an awkward smile. bakugou eyes you up and down quickly, quietly clearing his throat at the small amount of clothing adorning your body. you bite your lip embarrassedly while averting your gaze. "you wanna come in?" you chirp, stepping to the side. he lets out a soft hum of confirmation, taking big strides into your dorm before you shut the door behind him. he walks over to your desk to observe your neatly written notes. "i need someone to study with-- you aren't stupid or anythin' right?" he cocks a brow, turning his head to look at you.

you hum lightly. "mm no, i dont think so.."

the scruffy boy plops down in your heart-shaped chair, flipping through the pages you had spent such precious time working on. you fiddle with your fingers shyly, biting the inside of your cheek as you watch bakugou. "..do you want a cookie?" you politely ask, pointing towards the plate on your desk, walking towards him. his head turned to where your finger was pointing.

his eyes flicker to the plate, hesitantly taking a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie and biting into it. it was soft and chewy-- and warm. his crimson eyes brighten a little, just a little. "'s not bad. would be better with coffee." he stares at the bitten cookie, cupping his other under the treat, careful not to make a mess. your bubbly self returns, offering a sweet smile. "coffee coming up!"

that day was the first of many of you and katsuki spending time together. you were never around people too often, yet alone someone as popular and liked as bakugou. and as for him, he thought you were decently likeable. you made him feel good about himself without talking about his quirk or giant pecs. you also never asked if he had a girlfriend or if he was free next friday night. you were just you.

you had talked more than he anticipated. that night, bakugou found himself quiet while you blabbed about whatever came into your head, and he didn't mind it at all. even after that study session and hanging out numerous times, you're still that one quiet nerd in the classroom. only he gets to see the chatty side of you-- and he likes that. makes him feel special.

[starry-bi-sky]

bruce and danny being fuckign nerds together,,,, they are being the BIGGEST nerds. geeks. if you will

these losers are color-coding the most inane bullshit. they are making diagrams for things you've never even thought of. they are having the time of their lives

"what are you two doing?"

Danny, sitting criss-cross on a table, hunched over a spread of papers and a bunch of different jello cups, his back is gonna hurt SO much: color-coding jello

Bruce, sitting in a nearby chair, also criss-cross, scribbling on a graph paper: hm [agreeing]

Alfred, already exasperated and SO fond: may i ask why? and on what parameters?

Danny: we're basing it off which flavors are the most mentally stimulating and for which subjects :}

Alfred, SO fond: ah. i see.

Danny, snapping his head over to Bruce and leaning over: wh- no-- no. Buzz, I told you: lemon-flavored jello stays strictly in the 'smelling salts' category--

Bruce, still writing on the graph paper: mn. no.

Danny, nearly sprawled across his back, faux-outraged: strawberry is NOT good for math-- you fucken HEATHEN--! Give me that pen!

Bruce, did that solely to rile up Danny, now trying not to smile: hnm.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Okay but a darling who tries their hardest to "fix" and train their yandere. They put up with every bloody, obsessive shenanigan in the hopes that they can have a semi-regular relationship with the person they thought they were dating. You see, everything was fine the first month of the honeymoon phase-- regular cute dates and normal presents like bouquets and nicknacks-- even if they were overly frequent. It didn't take long for Yandere's true colors to show, possessiveness chaining Darling to their home and rushes in relationship milestones that normally take years to achieve.

By the third month, Darling has moved into their Yandere's home. Sure, it's fast, but how else are they going to alter a bloodthirsty stalkers' bad habits? But Darling didn't realize how much of a chore it would be to handle their Yan 24/7. Other than the constant reassurances of love and physical affection, they have to talk them down from murdering any coworkers or adding a military-grade security system to the home in an event of Darling trying to escape break up with them.

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

" I love you, there's no one else, how could you accuse me of that!"

Even with Darling complying continuously, wearing the ankle bracelet their Yan begs them to keep on, not leaving (or atleast, not telling Yan when they do) the house without their loving spouse-- Yandere still has paranoid visions, imagining footsteps at night, clothes that belong to them that they think are from another. But Darling is persistent, denying any sort of sneaking around and consoling their Yan in the process. I mean, who could sneak around when all they do is think of and take care of someone else continuously? And even when Yandere gets threatening, drugging takeout that was supposed to be a fun surprise and keeping Darling in the basement for a week, Darling always waits patiently for them to come back to their senses, to negotiate and bribe their way back out when Yan brings meals and requests cuddle time.

Maybe once or twice they've worried about being murdered, but they know their Yandere just loves too much, has too much affection for them to rationally contain. So they see the beast as tameable, talking them down off ledge after ledge, never bolting even with open doors and free feet. But will that be enough to convince their Yandere, to satiate their fear of abandonement and desire to trap before their prey can even think of escaping?

[actressposts]

[gojosluut]

Nerdjo! looking all innocent, like he hasn’t been inside nor has touched a woman in his entire life…but once you get that man behind closed doors. He’s an outright fucking freak and he fucks you soso good. Making your brain all fuzzy as his pink mushroom tip kisses your cervix over and over again.

While he lets out soft rasps and moans as he rambles about mathematics and video game theories (mainly digimon) into your ear…

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Danny ends up a doctor like his parents, just not the type of doctor they were expecting.

Danny becomes an archeologist.

He couldn't help it! Most of his friends were dead people, some from as far back as ancient Mesopotamia! He automatically knew every dead language by virtue of being a ghost! The way his friends talked, he wanted to know more about their lives. So he goes looking and makes a name for himself.

He becomes a well known archeologist. As a grad student, he works for the Drakes, even babysitting their son, Tim. He goes to Janet's, and later Jack's, funeral, offering to take Tim in, which the boy is grateful for but declines in favor of a bio-uncle. Eventually, Danny discovers the remains of an ancient cult in the Middle East.

Ra's learns that the remains of the original League of Shadows has been uncovered by a group of archeologists. Originally visiting the dig site to ensure the group doesn't discover any traces of the modern-day League, he finds himself intrigued by the young Dr. Fenton leading the dig. He's smart and bright and the first person in 400 years that can speak Ra's birth language. He becomes fond of the good doctor, even more so when he discovers that Danny's a conservationist and is skilled with a Xiphos (all Pandora's doing). How strange that their spars often end up with them retreating to Danny's tent to be alone...

And then Danny invites Tim Drake to visit, worried about the boy being a teen CEO with no breaks. Tim agrees.

[hoshifighting]

Making homemade porn videos with dk..? 👀

I LOVE UR WRITING AND UR NEW THEMEEEE

homemade porn with seokmin

WARNINGS: smut, porn, penetrative sex, spit used as lube, dirty talks, hair pulling, recording sex, praising

“are you sure about this?” seokmin’s voice comes out a little wobbly, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he watches you set up the tripod. he’s already blushing—of course he is—but the way his eyes keep darting between your face and the camera.. yeah, he’s a little too into this for someone acting shy.

“i’m the one who suggested it, dummy,” you tease, adjusting the angle of your phone. the way you’re bending over to check the framing isn’t exactly innocent, and when you glance back at him, he’s got his bottom lip caught between his teeth, hands frozen mid-fidget.

“you look good already,” he blurts out, then immediately slaps a hand over his mouth like he wasn’t supposed to say it out loud.

“yeah? you think the camera’s gonna love me?”

“the camera,” he echoes, his gaze dragging down your body like he’s already undressing you in his head, “and me. definitely me.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing his shirt and tugging him closer until he’s flush against you. his hands are all over you, warm and eager, sliding under your shirt and pulling it off with a little too much enthusiasm. “oh my god, wait,” he says suddenly, his hands freezing mid-movement. “do i, like, pose? or—”

“seokmin,” you laugh, your hands cupping his jaw to pull him into a kiss, effectively shutting him up. he melts into it quickly, groaning into your mouth when your hands slide under his waistband.

the kiss breaks with a gasp, and when you glance at the camera, the red light is still blinking. “you’re doing so well, baby,” you coo, your voice dripping with sweetness.

his ears go red, but he grins, his confidence kicking in as he steps back to pull his shirt off in one smooth motion. “think the camera’s getting my good side?”

“all your sides are good,” you shoot back, but your teasing falters when he reaches for your shorts, his fingers slow and deliberate as he slides them down your hips.

“you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, reverent. “like, seriously. it’s unfair.”

seokmin’s breath is hot against your ear, his hands firm on your hips as he pulls you closer, bending you over the edge of the bed with a teasing chuckle. “you’re gonna look so good on camera.”

you shiver, the weight of his words making your knees weak, but he doesn’t let you collapse just yet. his palm glides down your spine, before he stops to spread you open with his hands.

“stay still,” he commands softly, and then—spit.

the sound is obscene, deliberate, and you gasp when it lands, cool and wet, right on your entrance, the spit glistening on your pussy. his fingers move to spread it around, teasing you in lazy circles until you’re arching back into his touch, whining.

“needy already?” he taunts, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank your head back gently. the stretch makes you gasp, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing your ear as he laughs. “you better give the mic something to pick up, baby.”

he doesn’t wait for a response—just lines himself up and pushes in, letting the stretch pull a desperate moan from you. but it’s seokmin, and he never stays sweet for long. his hips snap forward, hard, and your gasp echoes through the room. “there it is,” he groans. his grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls just enough to tilt your head back, forcing you to look at the camera. “you hear yourself, huh? you sound so pretty. think they’ll hear that wet little noise when I do this?”

he thrusts harder, angling his hips so the slap of skin fills the room, the camera capturing every second. your hands grip the sheets for dear life, your moans spilling out uncontrollably as he keeps hitting that perfect spot, over and over. “moan for me, baby,” he demands, his voice rough and strained, “louder. let me hear you.” when you don’t immediately comply, his free hand slides around your waist, pressing down on your stomach to make you feel everything. “c’mon,” he coos, “don’t be shy. it’s just me and the camera.”

his teasing, his relentless thrusts, the filthy noises—it’s too much. you cry out, and he rewards you with a low, guttural moan in your ear. “fuck, that’s it,” he groans. “you sound so fucking good, baby. can’t wait to watch this later, see how fucking ruined you look.” his words send a thrill down your spine, and you clench around him, pulling a choked gasp from his lips. “you like that?” he rasps, his hips stuttering slightly as he adjusts his grip on your hair. “you’re so fucking tight—shit. gonna make me cum just thinking about this later.”

the thought of him rewatching this—watching you cum on his cock, hearing your desperate moans—has him thrusting even harder, his moans spilling out freely now. and when he finally pulls you up, flush against his chest, one hand gripping your jaw to force you to look into the camera, you’re both so far gone that you don’t even care how loud you’re being anymore.