#send me the prompts

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[whalesharkstho]

thinkin bout how jazz was taller than orion at the beginning of the movie lol

[mmxxviii]

everyone is talking about the sub dm prompt but i need everyone to know this will stick with me forever

i can’t stop watching it

[grumpy-triceratops]

🌸My Super Long Hopefully Fun Character Ask Game:

👕Appearance

What is your character's favorite physical trait they possess?

What would your character wear if they were told they had to gussy up?

Is there something about your character's appearance that they would change if possible?

Does your character have a favorite material they like to wear?

What are your character's opinion on scars?

How much interest does your character take in trends?

Is there someone your character tries to look similar to?

Does your character have a physical trait that they're known for?

What does your character smell like?

If your character could splurge on a particular garment, what would it be?

Is your character's favorite color a color they wear often?

Has your character gone through major stylistic or physical changes?

What is something your character would refuse to wear?

Is there a style your character is afraid they can’t pull off?

Would your character wear something someone else picked out for them?

Is your character's appearance more telling or deceiving?

What are your character's thoughts on wearing costumes?

Does your character have a favorite outfit?

If your character had to get a tattoo what would it be?

📦Objects

Is there an item your character doesn't like to leave without?

What gift would your character give to someone they didn't like but felt obligated to?

What type of object is likely to catch your character's attention?

Is there an item your character liked that they can’t get back? 

Would your character ever try to haggle?

What is something your character is proud to own?

Does your character ever spend more than they have?

What would it take for your character to give up an item they really like?

Does your character prefer to give or receive gifts?

Is there a type of object your character doesn’t like?

What might an acquaintance think is a good gift for your character?

Does your character personify objects?

What does your character most enjoy shopping for?

Is there an item your character is embarrassed they own or want?

Would your character prefer something bought or made personally?

Is your character willing to ask for things?

What is most important to your character when shopping?

🍽️Food and Drink

What flavor would your character say their personality is?

Would your character prefer baking, cooking or mixing drinks?

Is there a food or drink your character is unwilling to try?

How big is your character's appetite?

Does your character consider eating fun?

Would your character eat or drink something they didn't like to appease someone?

Is there food that has made your character sick?

What is your character's favorite food group?

Does your character like to try new foods?

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

Is your character food motivated?

Which mealtime is your character's favorite?

How much does your character care about wasting food?

Does your character prefer restaurant food or home cooked food?

What food or drink does your character consider a treat?

Is there a food texture your character doesn't like?

What kind of drinks does your character prefer?

🌤️Weather and Nature

What would your character do if they were suddenly caught in the rain?

Has your character had a meaningful encounter with an animal?

What season would your character say they're most similar to?

Is there a natural phenomenon that scares your character?

Has your character ever had an animal phase?

Would your character enjoy sky gazing?

Does your character have a good sense of direction?

What type of environment does your character like best?

Is your character good with animals?

How would your character react to snow?

What part of nature would your character most resonate with?

Could your character survive in the wilderness on their own for a week or more?

What element best represents your character?

Does your character prefer hot or cold weather?

Is there a creature that scares your character?

What celestial body would interest your character the most?

Is your character good with plants?

How willing would your character be to nap outside?

What animal would your character say best represents them?

🤝Community and Relationships

Does your character prefer company or solitude when sick?

What is your character's favorite kind of social event?

How comfortable would your character be singing and dancing in front of others?

Is your character upfront about their feelings?

Who would your character first seek if they needed medical help?

How willing would your character be to go to a party with people they don't know?

Who is your character most honest with?

How likely is it for your character to initiate a friendship?

Where is your character's comfort place?

Is there a habit your character has that they learned from someone else?

Does your character have people they think would worry about them if they got injured?

How would your character react to being put in a position of leadership?

Would your character be good at providing medical assistance?

Who would your character say knows them best?

Is there a person your character would turn to for backup in a fight?

Who would your character most want to sign their cast if they got one?

How well does your character work with others?

What is your character's favorite form of affection?

Does your character enjoy celebrating holidays?

What would it take for your character to get into a fight?

💓Mind, Body and Soul

What is a habit your character has that others might find cute?

Are there particular sounds your character is fond of?

Is your character more prone to fight or flight?

Does your character believe in myths and fairy tales?

What words could tear your character down?

How well does your character act under pressure?

Is your character good at practicing self-care?

What scents does your character find comforting?

Does your character have any allergies?

Is your character a light, medium or heavy sleeper?

Does your character have strong willpower?

Is your character more likely to give advice or seek it?

How does your character relax?

Is there a secret thing your character longs to hear?

Does your character have a sleep routine?

Would your character feel confident in a fight?

Is your character more energized in the morning, afternoon or at night?

How often does your character have nightmares?

Are there scents your character dislikes?

Is there a fear your character wants to learn to overcome?

If your character had to act in a play what role would they think they’d best perform?

Does your character have a high pain tolerance?

🎲 Hobbies and Activities

What kind of games does your character most enjoy playing?

Does your character have a secret hobby?

What is a talent your character wishes they had?

Is there an activity your character used to enjoy that they now dislike?

Which does your character try to prioritize more, work or hobbies?

Does your character work better with creative or technical endeavors?

What is a talent that your character is proud of?

Is your character more outdoorsy or indoorsy?

What is a topic your character would be excited to talk about? 

Is there a skill your character doesn’t know they’re bad at?

Does your character have any injury stories?

What kind of music does your character enjoy?

Has your character ever made something for themselves or someone else?

What is your character’s opinion on cheating in games?

How good is your character at following through on projects?

What’s an activity that reminds your character of someone else?

Does your character prefer music or silence?

What is a topic your character wouldn't want to talk about?

[aringofsalt]

thank you to @birdboybuckley for letting me steal one of her lovely alternate meeting ideas to help get me out of my writing slump today! hope you enjoy 💛

set in some nebulous time, maybe s3-4? put it wherever you want!

"Heeeeey! That's my boyfriend!"

Tommy startled, staring at the smiling man on the bed in confusion before backing out of the room. He double checked the number on the door: 335, exactly what the nurse had told him five minutes ago when he started looking for Howie's room, but that man definitely was not Howie, and definitely was not his boyfriend, considering he didn't even have one.

He stepped back into the room, only to find the man still looking at him, although this time a pout was on his face instead of the wide smile.

"Why'd you run away from me?" He demanded. "That's not very nice."

"Yeah, man, that's not very nice at all," came Chimney's voice, and this time, not distracted by the handsome stranger closer to the door, Tommy noticed him peeking around the IV stand between the beds.

"What's not very nice is sassing the man who's bringing you food that isn't cold, grey mashed potatoes, Han," he said mildly, dropping the bag full of snacks on one of the chairs between the beds before sitting down in the other one. He glanced at the man in the other bed, who was still staring at him, and Howie laughed.

"Oh, this is Evan Buckley, by the way, he started at the 118 a couple weeks after you left. I got a couple bumps and bruises, this guy took a beam to the brain. He's a bit concussed, they've got him on the good drugs. Buck, this is—"

"Of course I know who it is! That's my boyfriend." The pout was back on Evan's face in full force, and Tommy was just about ready to give him anything he wanted.

"He's not your boyfriend, Buck."

"Then why is his picture above my locker?" Evan pointed at Howie accusingly. "That would be a weird place to put his picture if he wasn't my boyfriend."

"That's a 118 group photo from before he left to go to air support," Howie said patiently, "it's been there for five years. But sure, big guy. What's your boyfriend's name, then? Introduce me."

Evan squinted, turning his attention to Tommy, then he snapped his fingers.

"Hot Stuff," he announced. "That's your name. I nearly forgot. But it suits you."

Tommy laughed, surprised. "Well, thank you. But actually, my name's Tommy."

"Tommy! That suits you even better. Maybe it can be your last name. Tommy Hot Stuff."

He reached out, making grabby hands at Tommy until he gave in and reached back, letting the other man play with his fingers. He didn't talk much, just listened to Tommy and Chimney catching up, but he kept holding Tommy's hand. Eventually, Tommy had to leave to get to Harbor for his shift, and Evan very dramatically kissed the back of his hand before he let him go, telling him to be safe.

Tommy was already far too enchanted by Evan; he knew odds were that when he was lucid, he'd laugh at the way he latched on to Tommy, if he even remembered it. But it had been nice to pretend, for a while, and Evan's sunny smile was in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.

The next morning, Tommy woke to his phone vibrating on the nightstand.

Howard Han Hey, Tommy Hot Stuff, I gave Buck your number. He was really insistent, I didn't think you'd mind.

He'd barely finished reading when his phone buzzed again in his hand, a new message hiding Howie's.

Unknown Number so, i hear i have a boyfriend now, and i want to treat him right. wanna get dinner later? my treat :)

[op-sys-chaos]

DPxDC prompt (demon twins au)

A video from your son, the email was titled. Bruce was confused. Which of his kids would send a video to his public work email??

Bruce clicked play.

On the screen was a boy who look a lot like Damian, but most certainly wasn’t him.

“This video is for the eyes of Bruce Wayne only.

Hi Dad. I’m Danny. You likely don’t know I exist, and if you’re receiving this, I’m already dead. Well, more dead than I already was. Maybe it’s cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem, but you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would’ve put you in danger.

This email is set to automatically send if I haven’t opened my computer for 3 days. I sometimes set it longer if I’m on vacation or expecting trouble, but I’ve mostly likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you’re receiving this.

I don’t know who killed me. Obviously. I’m recording this in advance. But it was probably either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons. I half-died at 14 and became a local ghost superhero, but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost-me apart molecule by molecule, so I bet that’s what happened. There will be nothing left of me to bury. Sorry about that!

The rest of the story is this. I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of 6 when they sent me on mission and I successfully faked my death.

My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that’s the reason I’m reaching out to you.

You’re a civilian. If you know too much about the League of Assassins you’ll be in danger. But I need you to save my twin Damian. He’s likely still there after all these years. He never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. He’s probably going to be stabby; he’s an assassin after all. But it’s not his fault. Ra’s - our grandfather - brainwashed him a lot more than he brainwashed me because Damian was more susceptible to it. It’s not his fault. Please. Save him. I’m begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please do it.

I wish it would’ve been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I’ve seen of you on the news with your oldest kids. I bet you’re like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I wish you all the best. Thank you for listening.

Your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton.”

Bruce took a second to process this, then picked up his phone and dialed his youngest’s number.

“Father.”

“Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?”

“…Who told you?”

Bruce hung up and sent Damian the video. He needed a minute to process this anyway.

Damian called back a few minutes later, after watching the video.

“Father. I do not care what state he is in. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny. Even if there is only a single molecule left. We must discover the truth.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Damian.”

Dealer’s choice on whether Danny is alive. The few ideas I have for this are:

- they find him mid-vivisection and rescue him

- they find what’s left of him post-vivisection and post his core being crushed

- he’s perfectly fine and just forgot to open his computer (maybe clockwork made sure he forgot?) and now he’s panicking about the fact that his family knows about him and could be in danger. He wanted them to know he existed, not make themselves a walking target for the league by finding him and trying to bring him home!

- Jazz found the automatic email and, deciding to meddle in her brother’s life and him back to his family and maybe get a good parent for herself as a bonus, sent it early

- Technus decided to start shit and sent it while haunting Danny’s computer

- Clockwork screwed with time to make sure it got sent

Lmk what yall do with this!

[ghoulishhx]

ohhh number 4 from the prompt list you reblogged screams frank castle!! I would love it if you could write it, please!

4.) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

arghh this is so cute, i can imagine it so vividly with him. he's perfect for this prompt, thank you for suggesting it !!

18+ MDNI !!

My Masterlist!

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: MDNI, SMUTT, thigh riding, oral (m recieving), unprotected p in v sex (dont do this irl please and thanks), cockwarming, VERY fluffy, mutual pining, praise (phrases such as good girl and whatnot), choking, injured frankie

TW: discussions of cuts and stitches

Wordcount: 2.2k

──── ୨୧ ────

✦ seven stitches

“Hold still baby, I’m almost done with this stitch.”

You’re standing hovering over your boyfriend’s left thigh, giving you a better angle of the deep gash on his shoulder. You’re used to this routine with him, he comes over almost every night injured and bruised, you tend to his cuts and grazes, he stays for dinner and for dessert he has you coming undone on his cock, wakes up in the morning and rinse and repeat. You love your routine, he’s started keeping his weekends open from ‘work’ to spend more time with you.

Tonight is different however, he’s more hurt than usual. He struggled walking through your door, you had to wrap his arm around your neck to lug him into your small apartment, dragging him to the bathroom to tend to a whopping seven injuries, a new record, as opposed to the regular three or four.

All are littered across his toned chest and large arms, leaving you with a gorgeous view of Frank man spreading on a chair in your bathroom wearing nothing but his jeans. The sight causes a hitch in your breath, a wetness instantly blooming in your sleep shorts. 

“Ah shit.. Doll ya almost done?” he winces in pain as you push the needle and thread through his skin for almost the final time, his hands flying to your hips holding you firm in place, feeling your heat on his thigh causes his cock to twitch. 

“Almost Frankie, you’re being so brave for me.” you coo, taking a moment to turn your head and lean down to give him a quick peck on his cheek, giving him a perfect view of the valley between your chest. He can’t help the way his eyes instantly lock onto your breasts, the way your chest goes up and down with each breath, the feeling of your pebbled nipple on his arm. It’s almost comical how hard he is just from this passing moment, he blames the adrenaline from the events of the day before coming home to you.

“My eyes are up here, Frankie.” you giggle as you stand up straight again, getting back to work. Blush creeps up his neck as you resume your position. You look down meeting his eyes, giving him a little wink and smirk. If he wasn’t unbearably erect before, he is now. Shifting his position again, he bumps his thigh between yours, meeting your clothed core, the sensation sending a jolt up your spine and you have to bite your lip from whining out. You’re just as desperate as he is. Noticing his affect, he offers you the same wink and smirk as you did seconds before. You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you go as red as a tomato, as you go back to work.

After a few minutes, you finish putting him back together, covering all the stitches in gauze, kissing all seven after they are firmly protected. 

“All better now baby, don’t go moving around too much for a few days, ‘kay? You need anything, you ask me, got it?” you state, still in the same position, looking down at him.

“Yes ma’am.” He says, grabbing your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, straddling it. You cannot control the whine you feel at the sudden movement, the friction of his tensed thighs rutting against your dripping centre so perfectly. “I do need somethin’, now that I think about it.” His jaw ticks as his eyes stare deep into you, you know this look.

“Shit Frankie, I don’t wanna hurt you anymore than you already are.. Fuck.” Mid sentence he starts maneuvering your hips to rub against his jeans, a wet patch on the dark denim already made apparent.

“Shh darlin’, I can handle it.. We’ll just go slow okay? Need you sweetheart, need you so bad.” he glances down at the stain and smirks “Looks like ya need it just as bad huh doll?” his lips attack your neck, as you start grinding down with him as he helps, guiding you.

You throw your head back as you let the pleasure take over, reaching up to the straps of your cami top, pushing them down your shoulder as you let your tits bounce out, nipples hardening even more than they already were as the cool air of the bathroom hits them. He takes one of his hands from your hip and greets your left breast, kneading the flesh and twisting your nipple between his fingers. You wrap your arms around his neck, being careful as to not disturb any of your handiwork. You run your hands through his hair, pulling him into you to steady yourself. The rough texture is causing delicious friction where you need it most, reaching down to pull your shorts aside so you can feel him even more, he leans down to take your right breast into his mouth all while guiding your hips with his right hand, his left kneading into your ass.

After a few minutes of fucking yourself on his thigh, his hands moving all over you slowly as to not disturb the stitches, you feel yourself getting close.

“That’s it doll, you look so pretty makin’ yerself feel good on my thigh, cum for me angel let me have it. Let it allll out.”

You listen obediently, feeling your clit throb deliciously, whining his name and a string of curses under your breath as you ruin his denims.

“That’s a good girl, atta-fucking-girl baby, shit I needa feel that sweet pussy on my cock now ok?”

“A-are you sure you’re up for it baby? I don’t wanna hurt you..” Interrupting you, he pulls your face down to his into a bruising kiss.

“Never been more sure of anythin’ in my life doll, I don’ care if I lost both of my fucking legs there’s nothin’ I’d rather do than be inside ya.”

You lift yourself off of his leg, embarrassed by the wet patch, his reaction opposite as he whistles at the mark, roughly palming himself through the material.

You take his hand in yours as you guide him off the chair, he stumbles a little, muttering to himself an abundance of curse words, as you help him into your bedroom. He sits on the edge of your bed as you kneel down to help take his confines off, unbuckling his belt for him as he places both of his hands on your cheek, kissing your forehead. You reach down and take your small tank and pull it over your head and slip your shorts down your body and toss them to the other side of the room.

After wrestling with the fabric, you slip the denim down his legs, and then his boxers, leaving you with his thick, throbbing member only mere inches from your face. You’re both naked now as the days you were born. You get comfy on your knees and take it in your hand, he can't help throwing his head back, knowing what's coming.

You place your thick lips around the head of his cock, licking up his pre-cum. You begin bobbing your head, humming at the heaviness of his member in your mouth. His arms move to put his hands in your hair.

“Shit baby just like that, you’re fuckin’ perfect.”

Lifting your head up and down in a slow, passionate way, you swirl your tongue around his sex, enjoying the symphony of groans coming from his mouth. He helps with the pace, maneuvering your head softly on his cock. You continue for a few minutes as he taps your chin to get your attention.

“C’mere doll, need you now.”

He lies back on the bed slowly, on his side where the fewest of the injuries sat. You join him, carefully situating yourself in front of him, placing your back to his chest. Apprehensive of your position, you look to his face to try and sense if you’re causing him any discomfort. You look into his eyes and you see nothing but lust and adoration. You know he’s feeling fine.

He reaches down to his throbbing cock, taking the base of it and pushing the tip through your slick folds, collecting juices as lubrication. You whine as he passes your clit, kissing and sucking in the crook of your neck. He pushes down to meet your entrance.

“Tight squeeze now baby shh.. You can take it.”

Pushing inside of you agonisingly slow, your hand reaches behind your head to his, pushing your fingers through his short hair, pulling him into you, deeply exhaling as you feel the full eight inches inside of you, the head kissing your cervix.

Frank fucks you slowly, knowing his body couldn’t handle anymore than this. The long, deep and passionate thrusts have you moaning his name as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. The pleasure for him is elevated by his pain in his injuries, oddly enough, but he always knew he had a masochistic side to him. 

Sex with him like this you’ve always held close to your heart, the passion as he pours his love into with each individual thrust, time stands still and there is nothing in the world but you and him, making love in such an intimate way.

His free hand is situated on your waist and the other is under the crook of your neck, on your breast. He moves the hand from your waist to your throat, gently squeezing and your eyes roll to the back of your head. His teeth and lips delicately grazing the back of your neck, his breaths erupting goosebumps on your skin while his cock fills you to the brim with every push of it. It’s not long before you’re coming undone with him inside of you as deep as he is, pushing your spongy spot so sensationally. 

“That’s it baby, you feel so fucking good stuffed with my cock like this. I love ya honey, lemme feel you gush around me.”

His words push you over the edge into a shaking orgasm, trying your best to stifle your movements to not hurt him. The quickness of your orgasm approaching is ironic considering the slow pace of which you’re being fucked. He continues this way, fucking you so tenderly, pulling himself almost fully and then pushing himself back into you fully, feeling your dripping cream on his balls. 

You both stay like this for a while, slowly fucking for, what feels like, a few hours, losing count of the amount of orgasms you have both shared. He would finish, draining his cock with an abundance of cum each time, cockwarm inside of you for a few minutes until he’s rock hard again ready for the next round. Boty of you are so addicted to the feeling, the sensation of being as close as humanly possible that it's almost impossible to stop. Neither of you realise how much time has passed or how long you’ve been here like this, until you see the sun rising past your curtains. The sight paints the room with beautiful shades of oranges and reds, illuminating your bodies in such tantalising ways.

You giggle to yourself at the realisation of how long you two were going for, and you look back at him and he’s smiling too. That perfect, cocky smile. It had felt like 2 hours tops you were there, interlocked, but time always flies when you’re with him (as corny as it sounds). He places little kisses along the side of your head, his arms pulling you even closer, suffocating you with his grip.

“You always take such good care of me, sweet girl. I dunno what I did to deserve ya.” he whispers into your hair. He pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, and goes to get up but you stop him.

“Just a little longer, please? Just wanna lie like this for a while more.”

He chuckles, getting back into position, 

“Of course doll, not like we’ve been here for hours or nothin’..”

His sarcasm makes you laugh as you look over your shoulder, checking the condition of his injured body. Somehow all of his bandages are still intact, not really having moved all night. You sigh in relief as you cosy into him, starting to feel your eyelids grow heavier as you fall into a deep sleep, waking up for a second about 10 minutes later to the sensation of a warm washcloth between your legs.

“Just cleaning you up doll, won’t be two minutes.” he whispers, cleaning your mixed juices from you before tossing the towel into your wash basket as he resumes the spooning, pulling you into his chest.

“I was supposed to be taking care of you Frankie, not the other way round.” you mumble, sighing and yawning.

He chuckles, kissing you on your cheek,

“Shh darlin’, go back to sleep. You took such good care of me already ya hear me? Wanted ya to be comfortable.”

You hum at his words and within seconds you’re sound asleep again.

“I love ya sweetheart, so much.” he softly utters into your ear as he joins you in deep sleep.

a/n: im not gonna lie yall, i couldnt think of a name for this for the life of me so please don't be surprised if it changes lol. i hope u enjoyed!!

my inbox is open!

[rafeslvbug]

welcome to..sweetheart!reader’s little cottage on the beach!

sweetheart!reader’s cottage…that was on the market for years, with no one wanting to buy it as it was on the border between figure eight and the cut. it wasn’t much of a development project for the overly rich, and the pogues couldn’t afford it.

sweetheart!reader’s cottage…that when she found on a little bakery delivery, she had to have. she picked up extra shifts at the country club, and sold more clothes, working her fingers raw to save the money.

sweetheart!reader’s cottage…that was owned by an old lady who took such a liking to her, that she gave her the cottage for a quarter of the original price!

sweetheart!reader’s cottage…that could be decorated to her heart’s content, because she had all the saved money left over. she was sensible, however, still keeping all that she could from her old run-down shack by john b’s.

sweetheart!reader’s cottage…that always manages to fit rafe even in her tiny bathroom, bedroom for one and limited space.

sweetheart reader’s cottage…that she loves with her whole heart, and rafe finds cute..but not enough for her. rafe wants to buy them their own house, move in with her and he can’t do that in her cottage.

[dreamwinged]

misc. selfship asks ❤︎

thank you for 400! <3 answer these asks however you'd like, but please practice reblog karma if applicable! 💌

🧸 - how would your f/o try to comfort you if you were upset? 🦢 - what's a petty argument you'd have with your f/o? 🍡 - what nicknames do you have for each other?

🪽 - what was your first kiss with your f/o like, if you've had it?

🪺 - describe your f/os perception of you before you got together, compared to what it is now! 🪷 - if the roles were reversed and your f/o was the one selfshipping with you, what would their blog look like?

🧊 - how would your f/o text you? would they use proper punctuation/capitalization, or type more informally?

🍋‍🟩 - similarly, what would your contact names be for each other?

💍 - how do you and your f/o feel about marriage?

🪻 - what's your f/o's coffee or drink order?

☁️ - how does your f/o like to spend their free time with you? 🛍️ - what would your f/o get you as a gift? additionally, what would you get for them?

🫧 - what song(s) remind you of your f/o?

🪼 - what’s your favorite way to feel closer to your f/o?

proship/comship/neutral dni

[duck-ssi]

Is there a fic out there were Ra's gives baby Damian to the ghost king aka teenage Danny hoping to gain a super Lazarus pit/ectoplasm powered baby and instead Danny just goes 'welp I guess I'm a teen dad now' and doesn't give him back?

[phantomamour]

🎲 PLSSS CLARK I LOVE THE WAY U WRITE HIM (even tho it’s horny, I love it)

my first soft clark thing... a moment of history on the phantomamour blog

🎲 ༘⋆༄.°⋆ a sleepy kiss (#24) - prompt list

late nights at the fortress were an unfortunate reality of the last week as lex worked on some new plan to take superman down. clark spent far too long on the super-computer, eyes burning and back aching, that when he checked the time, he knew it was time to call it a night. he had the flight back to your shared apartment memorized to the T, so when he appeared at the front door, he swore it had only been a second from the moment he lifted off the ground.

you heard the door open, stirring you from your failed attempt to stay up waiting for him and you listened to his tired footsteps toward the bedroom.

"baby?" he mumbled, exhaustion laced into his voice as you looked up to see him in the doorway. seeing you in your shared bed was a relief like no other as his shoulders slumped and he made his way over to you.

"hi, handsome," you whispered before he got onto the bed, still clad in his suit to kiss you. there was no urgency in his movements, much less his lips. no heat or desperation. you honestly preferred it that way in the moment, moonlight coming through the window to illuminate the room. it was just the two of you. the alien who held the universe on his shoulders and his human girl that reminded him to stay on ground.

he kissed you so slowly, melting into the bed beside you as he did. it wasn't until he took a pause to wrap his arms around you and pull you flush to his chest that you quietly teased, "are you sleeping in your suit tonight or should we get that off you before you pass out kissing me?"

[angel06babysworld]

omg we need a sexist!rafe x puppy!reader realizing that rafe purposely got her pregnant

sexist!rafe x puppy!reader

warnings: misogyny, baby trapping, 1950’s lifestyle

The Softest Trap

♱✧˖°༺♡༻°˖✧♱

She balanced the plate carefully in both hands, lips parted in concentration as she padded barefoot across the wide-open living room. Rafe liked when she didn’t wear shoes indoors—said it made her look more “like a housewife”—and even now, with her belly not quite showing and her head full of cotton, she still obeyed without thinking.

She was in one of his old OBX shirts, the hem brushing her thighs, sleeves rolled past her elbows. The smell of chocolate chip cookies clung to her skin like warmth. She could still hear the oven beeping from the kitchen.

She was glowing, people said. Rafe said.

She wasn’t sure what that meant, but it made her smile when he said it.

The boys were in the sunroom—Topper leaning back on the couch, Kelce halfway through a beer, Rafe with his legs spread like he owned the damn floor beneath him. The door was half-cracked open. She didn’t knock, just stepped in with a soft, sweet voice.

“Hi,” she smiled, bright and a little breathy. “I brought cookies.”

Three heads turned.

Rafe’s smile twitched into place like clockwork. “There’s my girl.”

She lit up. Her shoulders straightened just from the sound of it.

Topper gave her a soft nod and a “thanks, sweetheart,” while Kelce said, “Dude, she bakes now? Rafe, you’re turning her into a fifties pinup.”

She giggled, cheeks flushed pink. “I like baking.”

“You like doing what I tell you,” Rafe teased, reaching out to tug her closer by the hip. She squeaked, nearly dropping the plate, but he caught it and set it down.

“Go on,” he said, “grab your tea, baby. I’ll come get you in a bit.”

She nodded obediently, kissing his cheek, then turned to pad off—but paused as Kelce’s voice floated behind her, careless and low.

“You were serious, huh?” he said. “About the baby-trap thing?”

Her fingers stilled on the doorknob.

Topper scoffed. “Thought you were joking when you said you switched her pills.”

Rafe chuckled. Slow. Smooth. “Did I look like I was joking?”

“You’re insane.”

“She was slipping,” Rafe said. “Started getting ideas. Podcasts. Feminist bullshit. One of those soft rebellions. You know the kind.”

“You knocked her up on purpose?”

“I reminded her what she’s for,” Rafe said flatly. “And now look—back to baking cookies in my shirts and asking permission to breathe. She needed this.”

Silence.

Then a bark of laughter. “Jesus,” Kelce said.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if it was your girl,” Rafe muttered.

Puppy stood frozen in the hallway.

The plate was long gone. The tea forgotten. Her hands hung limp at her sides. There was a ringing in her ears that made everything float, like she’d just stood up too fast. The baby kicked—just a little flutter—and she blinked, one hand brushing over her stomach like it might erase what she just heard.

She didn’t understand all of it. Not really.

But she understood enough.

He said it so casually.

Like it was normal.

Like she was a pet. A project. A problem he’d solved.

Her throat bobbed, but no sound came out. She just turned—quietly, carefully—and walked back down the hall, tea cold on the counter, the warm haze around her thinning like fog burned off in sudden sun.

And for the first time in a long time, Puppy didn’t feel soft or safe or small.

She just felt trapped.

tags: @amelialovesrafe @alyisdead @illumoria @blissfulbutterfliess @sydneysslove

[blueboybot]

Birds Of A Feather Fight Ghost Together

Danny is now a bird. No, he did not transform willingly and yes it did have something to do with Vlad's new weapon because creepy old men who have acess to advanced tech will try anything on unsuspecting teenagers these days. It's not all that bad though, he can still fight pretty good as a weird pigeon (the ghost learned very fast that sharp talons to the face were not worth it) and the only downside was his attraction to shiny things, which has only distracted him a few times (no Jazz he was not hording the fancy and shiny forks, he was just holding onto them incase he needed them for a bigger dinner later).

Anyways he was flying through the GZ on his way to either find more shiny things or peck out another ghost's eyes, he doesn't mind which comes first, when a glint caught his beady bird eyes.

"Shiny thing first it is."

As Danny flew closer he realized two things. One, the shiny thing was infact a shiny sword. Two, the shiny sword was being wielded by a child in the middle of fighting a ghost.

He quickly flew down opening his beak and produced a small coo wail that immediately popped the creature. Danny needed to figure out how the boy ended up– Wait! HE HAS FRIES!

He'll figure out that later but now he needs those fries.

[hyruling]

this is normal, ow, why is my sock wet ☺️

Eddie kisses him in the kitchen; a simple brush of lips, a palm on a warm cheek. Buck’s soapy hands hesitate for a few heart stopping moments before they curl into his sleep tank, pull him close, and then he’s kissing back with a sigh. 

There’s no particular reason he chose this moment, this day. Only this: Buck at the sink, his beautiful back beneath a grey oversized tee, washing dishes from the breakfast he’d made for Chris after turning off Eddie’s alarm to let him sleep. The sight of it had finally snapped his last thread of resolve, and all the reasons he’d come up with not to cross that line seemed utterly insignificant in the face of Buck in the soft morning light, humming out of tune to whatever song was playing through his phone speakers.

And now the dance is done, the line firmly, finally crossed, and he gets to have this — Buck pressing their bodies together with a hand splayed on his lower back, the other curled around his ribs. He gets to feel the way Buck’s breathing changes under his hands, hear the sound he makes when Eddie opens his mouth and licks behind his teeth. 

Buck breaks away, forehead pressed against Eddie’s, and giggles. 

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asks, more out of breath than he reasonably should be from less than a minute of kissing. Buck’s laugh is contagious, and he smiles, chest aching and full in a good way, in a way that makes him want more. 

“Nothing, just—your tongue was in my mouth,” Buck says through his snickering.

Continue reading on AO3

[frannyzooey]

Smut prompt #1 with Joel Miller?? You know it’d be tender but FILTHY.

Joel Miller x f!reader

Prompt: Mirror Sex

He found you in front of the mirror when he got home, your robe cinched tight around your waist, your fingers smoothing moisturizer into your skin. His boots shuffling on the hard wood, his hands found a home on your hips and his mouth found it's place on your neck, and his eyes closed as he inhaled the sweet scent that pooled behind your ear. His lips brushed against your skin, and he savored the way it still held warmth from the shower.

"How was patrol?" you asked, letting your head fall to the side to let his chin rest on your shoulder.

"S'okay," he murmured, pressing another kiss along the length of your neck.

You let out a sigh of contentment, and with his mouth still busy against your skin, his eyes lifted to meet yours in the mirror.

You stared at each other for a moment, admiring the image: his taller frame enveloping yours, the size of his hands skimming along the front of your robe. You watched with rapture as his fingers dipped under the fabric, and he peeled it from you, letting it drop to the floor.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful." His voice slipped into a lower register and his accent slid into something smoother, thicker. Rich, with the way he rounded the sounds as he praised you while running his touch along your skin. "Somethin' else. The prettiest girl, just for me."

You let your body lean back into his as his hands covered your breasts with an appreciative squeeze. His thumbs smoothed over your nipples, and right when you were about to turn around to meet his mouth with your own, he pulled away.

Only for a second - before the sound of a chair scraping over the floor filled the room.

A stream of afternoon sunlight hit him just right when he sat down, the edges of his brown curls shining amber. He spread his strong thighs wide, and you watched as he started to work his belt buckle open.

"I want you to sit on my lap, okay?"

He worked the leather through the clasp, letting the belt fall open.

"But make sure you face the mirror."

Not an ask, but a gentle command; his thumb popping open the button on his jeans.

"I want you to see how pretty you are for me."

The zipper being tugged down, his large hand cupping the heft between his thighs with a squeeze.

"C'mere, honey. Let's watch together."

[zstartrixxx]

I don’t know why this is making me laugh so hard but imagine arguing with the characters and blurting out ‘you ain’t worth the fuck it took to make you’. Like the way Remmick would be so offended 😂

OMG THAT’S A DEVIL’S MIND MY DEAR!!! (i adore it sm!!! <3) and i’m finding myself lmao on this imagining the scene!!! type:

REMMICK:

“You ain’t worth the fuck it took to make you!”

He’d widen his eyes briefly, raise his brows—genuinely offended by your audacity. Like… Are you insane!? Saying that to him, a centuries-old vampire, standing there all disheveled in front of you with that pathetic banjo and those suspenders!? He’d blink slowly: “Ma’am… Are you sure ‘bout this!?”

His eyes would flash red, a trickle of drool slipping out as he removes the banjo from his neck (since, minutes ago, he’d been trying to calm you down by singing…). And well. The rest would be history.

OLIVER MELLORS:

He’d stop whatever he was doing (probably distracting himself to avoid escalating the argument). But hearing that? Oh, it was too much for him. Too much for Mellors, who’d turn to you, look you up and down with that arrogant smirk, chuckle darkly, and say: “Bloody hell, milady! Bloody hell! This way, I’ll be forced to curse your future heirs—and I reckon you won’t like that one bit.”

Then he’d chase you, hands bold, tickling and peppering kisses until you collapse onto the mattress, growling: “Now we’ll be the ones making sure the fuck that makes our child is worth it, milady. Let’s see you curse that with my babe in your belly…”

LION KAMINSKI:

He’d feel deeply hurt—because this insults his parents, himself, and his idiot older brother (Stan, not Walter)—which is why you aimed the jab in the first place.

He’d sulk in a corner, cheek propped on his hand, avoiding your gaze. At first, you’d shrug, pretend you weren’t targeting him (just his insufferable brother). But soon you’d cave, guilt creeping in as you shuffle over: “Oh, my love, I didn’t mean it like that! Forgive me! Please…”

Lion would peer up, still wounded: “Swear it!? My parents deserve respect—” “Yes, yes, of course! Just your dickhead brother who doesn’t…” You’d wink. He’d stifle a relieved laugh, pull you into a hug, and kiss you. Apology accepted—though, deep down, you’re kinda right… Stanley Kaminski is a pain in the ass.

ROY GOODE:

“You ain’t worth the fuck it took to make you!”

You’d spit on the ground as Roy stands before you, pistol raised, your fellow outlaw buddy at your side. You’ve been playing “cops and robbers” for a while now—Roy usually loves your antics—but this? This stings.

Damn those lips of yours.

He’d sigh, holster his gun with a spin of his finger, take a deep breath: “If I were you, ma’am, I wouldn’t have such nerve… Never know when we step on our own shadow and land flat on our backs.” “Still talkin’ in riddles. Fool, Goode, you’re an idiot!” you’d spit back, furious over your downed partner. Roy’s brow would twitch, still processing the insult—how dare you say my parents’ fuck wasn’t worth it—before flashing a rogue’s grin: “Alright, ma’am. I’ll give you five minutes to vanish from my sight.” “Or what?” you’d taunt, hand already hovering over your gun. Roy would mirror you, voice calm: “Or I’ll show you why your folks wasted their mattress makin’ you, darlin’.”

PATRICK SUMNER:

He’d stare at you with disdain and lust. The more you tug at his edges, the easier it is to unravel him—to flood him with emotions he keeps locked behind a mask of stoicism.

When you hurl the insult to hurt him, Patrick detects the desperation beneath your apathy. And oh, you’ve got his attention now. He’d calmly remove the pipe from his lips, study you with eyes darkened by sadistic pleasure, rise from his chair, circle you, then crouch to whisper smoky opium-tobacco breath in your ear: “Keep this up, and I’ll show you exactly how the devils who made me fucked, little one.”

A shiver would race down your spine. As he pulls back, one hand sliding from your shoulder to your wrist, you’d realize: He’s dead serious.

BONUS: if it were James Cook (from what I know about him) he would laugh in your face, laugh heavily, raise a cheeky eyebrow and retort: "You want to taste how my parents fucked to make me, right? Just ask and I'll let you taste this cock darlin'", something like that, I don't know.