#week 3 prompt

[platypaws]

Day 39: Isabella // Day 6: Pets

pnf revival challenge hosted by @howtonerdoutovereverything! ✨ pnfspiritweek hosted by @animationnut & @pftones3482! ✨

Isabella doesn't play around with unneccessary secret keeping. This is vaguely continued from this, but also like a dozen other comics I did for the revival challenge because theres overarching plot I guess dhfugihdfgu

[revival challenge masterpost]

[batneko]

in two years Riddle is going to text Cater "okay I start pre-law in the fall when do you want to move in together?" and Cater is just going to be like:

[mischievous-thunder]

What you need to understand is that it's a great responsibility, Wade.

[sariphantom]

I bet Leo's telling one of his dumb fish jokes to Nemo over here 🤣

[somdxr]

last stanuary YAYYYYYYY

[ID: art of Stan and Ford from Gravity Falls, with their selves from different ages all sitting around a campfire. In the front, their kid selves are glowing orange colors, laughing and wrestling. Further back, their teen selves sit on either side of the fire, looking across at each other. They're both tearing up but smiling, and glowing blue. The Stan and Ford of the present, in their sailing outfits, sit on a log in the back, smiling and talking casually. Stan's roasting a fish over the fire. The caption at the bottom reads: "stanuary - healing". End ID.]

[demiboydemon]

Link: Is this you asking me to wake you up with breakfast more often?

Zelda: yes :)

[peach-sea]

Cringetober Day 1. Screenshot Redraw

inspired by this early eah scene where raven "lets her bad side out" playing guitar and my cousin and I go "apple's probably losing it" and then they cut to her and she's making this face ↓

[jesuistrestriste]

hihi i hope you’re doing well!! tis me.. mommy issues!art anon.. >:3

mommy issues!art who is just so needy. he can’t help but melt into your touch after a long day, he’s completely pliable in your hands. he just wants mommy to hold him!! it’s not his fault that being cuddled by you leads to him eagerly shoving his tongue down your throat!! he just missed you!!

then he’s breaking away to beg, “please- mommy, can i?” while he paws at the neckline of your top. his desperate, wet eyes are too much, how could you ever say no? not that you’d ever pass up a nursing handjob, anyway…

(p.s. may i claim 🍼 anon… seemed fitting lol)

mommy issues!art anon hii:3 love to see you in my inbox again; this is so yummy.. also 🍼 is yours!

cw (18+) : sub!art, mommy kink, messy nursing hj, desperation/neediness

art immediately pushes your top up and over your breasts as soon as you give him permission, his blue eyes glazing over with unfiltered arousal. his cheeks are flushed the prettiest pink you’ve ever seen, and then you notice that his bottom lip is wobbling like he’s about to cry. it wouldn’t be the first time that tears were shed down his cheeks when faced with your nurturing dominance. you feel both sets of his fingers squeeze at your chest—thumbs rubbing circles over your pebbling nipples, whimpering when you stroke your fingers through his blonde curls. he’s stuck in a trance of some kind, it seems.

“go on, i said you could.”

those simple words of encouragement are all that he needs to be snapped out of his stupor and surge forward to take one of your tits into his warm, open mouth. he slathers your bud in his sweet spit, moaning with pinched-up brows and suckling like he’s expecting something to come out. it’s hard not to stick a hand down into your panties at the feeling of him working his tongue so greedily over your flesh.. and his whimpers aren’t helping. your touch tightens in his strands and pulls a high-pitched keen from his chest. he unlatches and looks up to you, pouting, afraid you’re about to cut him off.

“are you going to be a good boy for me, art?”

he shudders, his legs tensing.

“yes, mommy. whatever you want..”

“you want help?” your fingers tease the waistband of his sweats before dipping down into them and his boxer briefs, playing with the base of his swollen length. his eyes roll back the instant you make contact with him there, and you laugh breathily in response. he’s always this easy with you. you drag your nail against the pulsing vein that you feel bulging from the underside.

“ye—yeah, help—help me, please,” he mewls, lifting his hips to press further into your palm, “be good, ‘m gonna be so good, i need it..”

your hand moves and wraps around his cock without further pleading from the blonde curled against you. he’s already filthily covered in his own juices, so it’s easy to stroke him without feeling like you’re hurting him. he gives confirmation of that in the form of a instantaneous, shattered cry and an arching back. he clutches your tit harder before burying his face back into the other one, trying to muffle his pathetic sounds as you jerk him off in time with the hollowing of his cheeks around your bud. he laps at you for another minute before his pelvis starts to stutter and roll up into your fist. it’s normal for him to try to take what he needs, even if you’re already giving it to him exactly the way he likes it. you smirk.

“you wanna do it yourself?”

he sobs around your flesh, shaking his head and letting his eyes flutter open to look up to you. “nmph—mmm-mn—“

“okay, then calm down and let me finish you off. have some faith in me,” you tease.

art’s mouth parts into a slackened ‘O’ around your sensitive skin when you twist your wrist and begin working his aching tip, the wet sounds emanating from your motions only heightening his pleasure. his toes start to curl, his legs clamp shut, his breathing picks up rapidly. he nearly squeals at the sensation of your thumb playing with his glossy slit. he hates (loves) it when you do that.

“mmm-my—mmm-my—! mmmngh!”

it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what lewd nickname he’s murmuring around the mouthful of your plush breast. you bite your lower lip, letting out a stream of breathy moans to accompany his sounds, and stroke him faster. his eyes fly open wide before squeezing shut so tight that wrinkles appear at the outer corners. reaching your free hand up, you move to lightly trace his cheek, his brow, the bridge of his nose. such a pretty little toy.

“are you close?”

he nods.

“are you gonna come?”

he suckles harder, wails louder against you.

“you can come for me, baby. give me a big load.. show me how much you’ve been wanting this..”

three more flicks of your closed hand around his throbbing appendage and he’s gone—his lips detaching from you with a sharp, trembling gasp, a string of spit connecting to your body; his head falls into your lap as he bucks into your touch and feels several viscous streams of fluid spray from him and into his clothing, as well as between your moving fingers. it sticks between your digits like glue. he wails like he’s being taken apart by you, praying that you’ll put him back together afterwards, and you closely watch his abdomen flex with each orgasmic contraction—every single one followed by a puny whine of ecstasy.

you don’t stop pumping him until he begins to wheeze and jolt. it’d be unfair to expect him to vocalize his overstimulation, given how wrecked he is. your ministrations slow and then rest in a pause at the base. he catches his breath as best he can and winces when you accidentally force an aftershock from his spent dick. tugging your touch from his soiled bottoms, you look down to your hand that has become creamy with his frothed-up release.

“such a mess, artie,” you croon, showing it to him as he pants and gazes up to you with an unfocused stare, “did that feel good?”

a single nod is all that he can manage. his lips part a few moments later, trying to muster up the energy to tell you exactly what he wants to say.

thank you. i love you. i needed that. i needed you. please hold me.

but none of it comes.

he leans in and kisses your breast, giving one more languid lick over your nipple in hopes that it’ll get his point of gratitude across. once he’s got his bearings back, he’ll give you everything he has.

now, though, he just needs a moment in your arms.

“mommy,” he whispers. he swallows thickly after and tries to blink away the wetness stinging his vision. it'd be embarrassing if he was with anyone but you.

you caress his jaw, give him a soft smile.

that’s all you really need to hear.

tags : @voidsuites @asheepinfrance @fawnnpaws @artstennisracket @andyrambles @imperishablereverie @ghostgirl-22 @lexiiscorect @cha11engers @patricksbf @newrochellechallenger2019 @pittsick @blastzachilles @oncefaist @tacobacoyeet

[99aceace]

@summer-of-bad-batch

Week 3: Bonus prompt: Pabu culture

All kinds of unusual creatures migrate through Pabu. Observing them is customary.

[korogie]

All tangled up together femdnfweek day 2 sleepover/sharing a bed !! >.<

[perepecha]

2. Sisterhood

[dindjarindiaries]

For Good

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: "Is it really you?" / "I was worried something happened to you." / "I couldn't stop missing you if I tried."

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

Your commute back to your place from the grocer was as uneventful as usual. It was dark, and the hood you wore cast your face in even more shadows, allowing you to blend into the night. You held your bag of bounties loosely at one side as the other remained free, just in case you had to reach for your weapon.

You rarely, if ever, had to use it, but you had never learned to abandon that urge to defend yourself. Not after it was drilled into you by someone you likely wouldn't ever see again.

Three cycles was a long time. If he hadn't fulfilled his promise to come back yet, then something must have happened to him, because he was the last person in the galaxy who would break a promise like the one he had made to you.

That familiar ache in your chest tightened, and you grimaced as you rolled your shoulders to get rid of it. There was no use dwelling on it, on him, any longer. It was time to move on.

These solemn thoughts were sharply cut off when you approached your place and saw a shadow lingering by the door. Instantly, you froze, dropping your bag in favor of taking up your blaster in both your hands.

Breathe. Assess the situation and breathe.

You took a deep, steadying breath as you slowly crept forward, keeping your blaster trained on the shadowed figure. It took a few erratic heartbeats before you could muster up the courage to address them.

"Back away from the door."

The shadow suddenly snapped to attention. They pushed themselves off the wall beside your door and lifted their hands in the air, though it was still too dark to make out any significant details about their appearance.

Then, they spoke to you. "Still not used to the silver armor, are you?"

You froze for the second time that night, but this time, it was in pure disbelief. That voice, that modulated voice, could only belong to one person, and this was the first time in cycles that you were hearing it outside of a dream.

It couldn't be real. This couldn't be real.

You let your guard down faster than you probably should have as you started to lower your blaster. "Din?"

The shadow—no, Din—nodded. "Yeah. It's me."

You blinked a few times as you processed his words. Only once you were sure you weren't dreaming did you stumble forward and haphazardly tuck your blaster away. "Din..."

Your utterance of his name was a mere breath, more like a plea, as you charged towards him. He was ready for you as he closed the gap between you, letting you all but crash into him. You wrapped your arms tight around him, as if he would fade away if you let him go, and for perhaps the first time ever, Din held you back just as tightly.

What had he gone through to let himself be so vulnerable with you now?

That wasn't a thought you dwelled on too much just yet. For now, you were still in awe that he was here, no longer a figment of your imagination. Your chest heaved with a sharp breath of disbelief as your face instinctively buried itself into his cowl.

Once you had somewhat pulled yourself together, you leaned back enough to hold his helmet between your hands. You searched his visor and shook your head, giving voice to your thoughts before you could stop yourself. "Is it really you?"

One of Din's gloved hands wrapped around your wrist. "It is." He nodded as his thumb began to run soothing circles over your skin. "I'm sorry I took so long. I didn't... I wasn't sure when it would be safe again." He nodded. "But I'm sure it is now."

You swallowed hard and watched as your thumb traced the ridge in his helmet. You grimaced at the new scratches in the silver beskar. "I was worried something happened to you."

Din let out a huff. "The feeling's mutual."

You lifted your brow. "I wasn't the one traversing the galaxy to protect a child with magical powers."

Din chuckled and looked down at the ground beside him. It was only then that you noticed the aforementioned child standing there, staring up at Din with his petal-shaped ears rising high on his little head. You couldn't help smiling at the evident sight of their strong bond.

"Yeah. It's been quite the journey."

You let out a troubled sigh as you watched your hand lower to his cuirass, touching the metal just above his heart. "I thought..."

You trailed off. Din's visor returned to your gaze, and he tilted his helmet as the arm he still had around you gently eased you closer.

"You thought what?" Din's voice was so soft that is could only just crackle through his modulator.

You swallowed hard and somehow found the faith to look at him again. "I thought you had forgotten." You worked your jaw in an effort to get the last few words out. "About me."

For a moment, Din recoiled as if he had just been slapped. "Forgotten?" He shook his helmet more times than necessary. "No. No."

Din was the one to take your face in his hands this time. You didn't have to see his gaze to feel the warmth of it searching your own, and his voice was soothing as his touch that ran gently over your cheeks as he went on.

"I couldn't stop missing you if I tried."

The raw, genuine meaning behind his words broke something in you. You closed your eyes, your lips trembling as you felt the heat building behind your eyelids. A knot wound itself tight in your throat as a single tear spilled over.

"I missed you, Din."

Your voice was so pitiful, and Din was anything but that as he wiped your tear away. "I know." He remained so achingly soft as one hand held the back of your head and eased you against him once again. You melted into him, still absorbing the fact that all of this was real. "I'm sorry."

Your hands found purchase on his cape as you held him tightly, just like before. You breathed in time with him, as if that would somehow make up for all the lost time, fear, and loneliness you had experienced without him.

"But I'm here now." Din continued to speak to you, one of his hands now brushing over your back in repetitive, calming motions. "And I'm staying, for good."

There was a coo from the ground, and Din let out a soft chuckle.

"Sorry. We're staying."

You relaxed against him and let out your own light breath of amusement. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

[triplehearts]

We’ll take turns to untangle the knots

Though our hands may be tied

It’s all a part of the plot

[evidenceof]

@haguenauisforlovers: Day 1 -> Prompt: Unspoken

JOE LIEBGOTT and DAVID WEBSTER EP 9 The Last Patrol | Band of Brothers

[luinen-bluewater]

"Don't be greedy." It's so fitting that Rolan's week happens now, because in my head he's got huge Capricorn energy

[solifelessblog]

Dadrius Week Day 7: Relax

Taking some time together to relax @sergeantsporks

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Please reblog, don’t repost :)