#ᴠɪᴇᴡ

[dutchplayboyfans]

@modelanoushka ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪs ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ.. 💚 sᴘᴏᴛ ᴏɴ.. ᴍᴏᴅᴇʟs: @karina_kakoskina @modelanoushka #ʙᴇsᴛɪᴇ #ɪʙɪᴢᴀ #ʟᴏʏᴀʟ #ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴏᴜs #ʟᴏᴠᴇʜᴇʀ #sᴡɪʀʟ #ʙᴏᴏᴛʏʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ #ғɪᴛᴅᴜᴛᴄʜɪᴇs #ғɪᴛʙᴏᴅʏ #ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇ #ᴄᴏᴍɪᴄᴏɴ #ɪɴsᴛᴀᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ #ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟ #russiangirl🇷🇺 #sᴜɴsᴇᴛ #ᴠɪᴇᴡ #ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ #ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ https://www.instagram.com/p/CguBLEZscku/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[neteyamyawne]

Please help me with AI! I want to create a specific type of character like you, but it doesn't work. I always end up creating different characters

I'm not the best at explaining things but I'll try my best at how I did :

Firstly! I used Bing AI for all the AI generated pics which is the software ai of HP! You can use your laptop or mobile phone (you have to download the Bing app for mobile).

Secondly! Go on the Image generator of the AI click 'Create' and type on the search bar (Ex. If you want a avatar oc like me)

👆🏼 This is the mobile version :

An original character from James Cameron avatar franchise - (add your character description here)

For me it goes like : A female avatar with white pixie cut and military wear (guns/knives/etc) Comic style.

Thirdly! Be Descriptive!! Give the ai things that it could work on, you only have 15 tries per day so use wisely! Don't over do it! It can go bizarre if you over do it, keep the words simple but effective [it usually does the trick for me 😂]

Fourthly! Be firm on what type of character you want and write accordingly! That's it, you'll have your own original character, i hope it helped!! Have fun creating your dreams baby!!!

[warsavant]

                  eyes downturned to the datapad clasped between fingers, the commander stepped into the hangar bay where the crew of the suspect ship were held, the mostly low murmur of voices echoing in the space.   typical, they had been, except for one entirely unexpected factor: one was chiss.   a chiss who could not speak basic, no less; not unusual, but hardly so for any being in this sector.   satisfied with an understanding of the basic information in the file, his crimson gaze rose as he approached the group, immediately finding the man in question.

                  datapad still in hand, the cheunh words flew so easily off his tongue, a slight thrill at the thought.     ❝  i am mitth’raw’nuruodo, a commander of the imperial navy and this vessel.   what is your name?  ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— @mayxthexforce ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ

[ofenigmas]

when: april 11, 2023 where: the sasquatch who: OPEN

If there's one thing Huntsville has learned about Lana in the last half-decade, it's that, despite a blatant disregard for acknowledging any emotions other than amusement and anger, she very nearly never lets her brain rest. Perhaps this is why she's sitting at a dive bar, her trademark notepad and pen in hand, eyeing the person next to her instead of her drink. "No. No, I refuse to believe there's nothing more interesting that's happened in this gods-forsaken town this week other than someone wanting to plan a sidewalk chalk decorating contest. Come on, tell me anything ! "

[burning-fcols]

“You don’t talk a lot do you?” (baby blitz for moxxie) -  ✩   「 @bliitzo 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 The two Implings couldn't be more different than night and day... Yet perhaps that's what made their friendship so inevitable. Following the bolder one like a silent shadow, Moxxie fights to catch his breath as they hide from the consequences of their latest catastrophe. Clutching his chest, back leaning against the wall they'd darted around— out of sight and hopefully out of mind of those who had been in pursuit —the frazzled boy glances up at Blitz at the comment.

Grimacing at what he's sure must be reprimanding for his... oddity, tail sweeps around his body so it can be grasped in tiny hands. Lightly twisting it in stunned silence— only further proving Blitzo's point —Moxxie wracks his brain for the right thing to say. But when it becomes apparent that NOTHING feels ❛ right ❜, he awkwardly replies, ❝ Y-Yeah... ❞ Forcing down the lump in his throat so it can't blockade his voice any further, he adds, ❝ Talking is... hard s-sometimes. ❞

Most of the time.

Voice sounds hoarse, as if the Impling hasn't used it in a while. Even with all the time he's spent around Blitzo, the smaller of the pair was mainly silent support. Nodding in agreement and diligently obeying whatever poorly thought out instructions were given to him by the other boy. Something that apparently hasn't gone unnoticed. Although Moxxie is bewildered that it's being mentioned. Crimson never seems to mind his son's nonverbal tendencies. Minded it far less than whenever Moxxie dares to speak anyway, the Impling often finding the wrong things to say.

❝ And people get mad whenever I do, so I... don't? ❞ Statement trails off into uncertainty, wondering where he's gone wrong with Blitzo. Is the other boy mad at him for not talking? Moxxie assumed Blitzo enjoyed being the one making all the decisions, having everything to say. Being the only one with anything WORTH saying. Why would it matter if Moxxie is quiet if he's only here to do what's needed of him? No one has had a problem with Moxxie's silence before...

Why would they now? 「 ☆ 」

[emptypassicn]

Tags dump again because I forgot to throw these down before.

[gohjuo]

tag dump

[manigfeald]

vash tags

♛ « sᴜɴsʜɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀɪsᴇs » aesthetics; vash.

♛ « ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴇᴡ » headcanons; vash.

♛ « ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ » ic; vash.

♛ « ʙᴇsᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ » wants; vash.

♛ « ᴍʏ ʙᴜʟʟᴇᴛs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴍɪss ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴀʀᴋ » isms; vash.

♛ « ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ » self; vash.

[moneygramhaas]

MY SPIDERMAN , arthur leclerc┆彡༉‧₊

social media au , arthur leclerc x collegestudent! reader.

in which charles leclerc makes a mistake in an interview that leads to the launch of his younger brother’s relationship.

liked by yn.ln, charles_leclerc, officialronniefoden_, pascale.leclerc.355, and 507,375 others.

arthur_leclerc my love + a photo charles took of me??? idk she said she liked it!

ᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ..

arthurismybf 💕

charles_leclerc you two disgust me.

arthur_leclerc you’re just mad you don’t have a girlfriend 🙄🙄

yn.ln ew this is disgusting.

arthurismybf stfu ugly hoe bag 🤬🤬🤬

yn.ln YOU’RE the ugly one 🙄🙄

arthurismybf 😡😡

yn.ln 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

arthur_leclerc please stop fighting cherie

arthurismybf NO?? shes jealous of our relationship 🤬🤬🤬

olliebearman posting that ugly and hideous girlfriend of yours i see.

arthurismybf you literally look like the reincarnation of shane dawson if he was an austrailian kangaroo stfu

princeton i’d watch that acceptance if i were you.

arthurismybf ONGOMGOMGOMG OKAY OKAY SORRY PLEASE DDOTN KCIK ME OHT 😭😭

danielricciardo are we ignoring the fact that ronnie foden is in your likes??

arthur_leclerc yes. (yn really likes his dad’s team..)

arthurismybf no, just jack grealish.

kissainz wheres the arthur to my yn 😞😞😞

vtaoh HERE!! HERE!! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!!

user1 ARTHUR HAS A GF AND SHE GOES TO PRINCETON??

user2 devi vishwakumar type shit omg

user3 or maybe shes a complete slut who only wants him for money 💀💀

user1 girl stfu ur just mad he has a gf

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pascale.leclerc.355, and 307,325 others.

yn.ln my spiderman <3 (princeton admin PLEASE stop trying to take my acceptance I EARNED IT)

ᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ..

arthur_leclerc why cannot i be a better superhero like captain america???

yn.ln im breaking up with you. captain america is SHIT

chrisevansofficial language

yn.ln sorry, captain america is POOP.

princeton i wonder how the dean will feel after i show him that caption, which may i add, made me feel very THREATENED and UNSAFE.

yn.ln WHO RUNS THIS ACCOUNT STOP MESSING W ME GODDAMN

pascale.leclerc.355 hello yn! please make sure arthur takes his vitamins before bed time! sincerly, pascale.

arthur_leclerc MAMA YOU DO NOT NEED TO ANNOUCE THIS TO THE WHOLE OF INSTAGRAM???

yn.ln of course miss leclerc :)

user1 ARTHUR FORGETTING TO TAKE VITAMINS HELP ME 😭😭

user2 I CHOCKED ON MY WATER LMFAOO

arthur_leclerc you guys need to stop bullying me and my vitamins.

arthurismybf me trying to get arthur to take his goddamn vitamins

liked by ynismygf, justaninchident, honeybadger, and 36 others.

ᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ..

ynismygf I WILL NOT.

arthurismybf. YOU HAVE TO YOUR MOM SAYS SO.

bstansforbaku LOL 🤣🤣🤣🤣 i knew something was wrong with him

ynismygf shut uo ollie NOTHING is wrong with me.

bstandsforbaku why else would u need vitamins??? 😂😂🤣🤣😂🤣🤣😂😂🤣😂😂🤣🤣😂😂

pascale.leclerc.355 to make him big and strong for his races 🥰🥰🥰

getmeoutofmclaren i also have a hate for vitamins i stand with arthur on this one ✊✊✊✊

arthurismybf 51°20′45.0″N 0°32′54.0″W. sleep with both eyes open.

savethebees arthur take the vitamins.

ynismygf yes sir.

arthurismybf update he took them ☺️☺️ thanks seb!!

savethebees my pleasure yn!

VIENNA SPEAKS hi! this is kinda short but oh well 😊 i just wanted to get it done tbh. special cameo from zaimo 🤯🤯 @lomlando @hyvcksz

if anyone has a request or idea for an imagine or something please dm me! i have a three week leave from my sports so i’m going to be VERY bored!

[llunapastell-reads]

ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ || ʙ.ᴄ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ :･ bang chan x afab reader  ɢᴇɴʀᴇ :･ hurt/comfort | fluffy | smut  ᴡ.ᴄ :･ 3.7k ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs :･ profanity | sexually explicit | unprotected piv

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ :･ Amidst the mess of an neglected office space, your boyfriend's forlorn piano evokes a wave of painful recognition. You wonder how much dust could collect on your shoulders before Chan realizes he's forgotten you too.

✧.* ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ʟɪꜱᴛ & ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ

An abrupt thud sends a spurt of pain through the crown of your head. It startles you more than anything, breaking your concentration on the drudgery at hand—cleaning out a long-forgotten cabinet nestled in the alcove of your home office. Well, to call it your office isn’t entirely accurate. With all of your boyfriend’s music equipment overtaking the majority of the space, it feels more like a foreign than familiar territory now. You do have your own desk opposite Chan’s makeshift studio setup, right below the room’s largest window so you can draw in the natural lighting. But it’s been a long while since you last picked up a sketch pad.

Hell, it’s been a while since either of you had the time to do anything in this neglected corner of your apartment. 

A mumble of curse words falls under your breath as you soothe where you’re sure a decent bump will form later. A small break feels befitting now that the hoard of art supplies is somewhat organized, and you should probably grab an ice pack for good measure. The task has been looming over your head for too long, which is why this rare lull in your afternoon was dedicated to tidying up the room that has been usurped by clutter and storage.

Work has left you drained of all your free time and willpower, and when you did muster up a speck of vigor, it was usually in the name of chores or other responsibilities. Chan was even worse, all his time being spent practicing as he and the guys geared up for another comeback. His life has always been dominated by his craft—the man wouldn’t have it any other way—but you couldn't help but take note of how your moments together had been reduced to fleeting exchanges between late-night studio sessions and pressing deadlines. 

You blink away the thought and cast bleary eyes over your shoulder. The beams of light that flood in through slatted blinds appear almost tangible in the air, so much so that you’re tempted to try and grasp one in your hand. Instead, you trace their glowing pathways across the room, where molten colors of gold and clementine reflect off the keys of a piano on the opposing wall. Each ivory piece seemingly ignites in the setting sun’s radiance, and a deep sigh alleviates some of the wistful feelings that thrum in your chest at the sight; it was only a few years ago Chan had bought that secondhand piano from a local shop after months of contemplation. 

He somehow always talked himself out of the commitment, too humble to seriously entertain the thought of spending money on himself, especially when there were always bills to pay. Your relationship was fresh then, and even though the secret of mutually bashful affection had only been confessed a few weeks earlier, you were bold and convinced him a bit assertively to think of it as a business expense. The purchase meant aid in refining his skills, to enhance his contributions to his team: the beloved group of friends who looked to him for leadership with nothing but an unwavering confidence that he never quite felt worthy of. That’s what persuaded him to spend the one-and-a-half paychecks it required—the idea of altruism. The recollection of crinkles that formed in the corner of his eyes from unabated joy seems just as vivid as the luminous piano you’re shuffling over to from across the carpet.

Kneeling before it, your body sinks to eye level with the weighted keys. Hesitant fingers hover just above them for a long moment, as if one touch will disturb the magic of its glow and transform it back to an abandoned piece of dusty equipment. You’re not sure what possesses you to purse your lips and blow instead, but it’s a marvel to watch the tiny dust particles suspended in the air become glitter in the sun. A tiny smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth the whole time you tend to the instrument with a delicate touch, taking time to wipe down each crevice and bend. It was pathetically sentimental, but the keys were left for last. It just felt disrespectful to invoke any sound without deliberate intent. Once satisfied, you sit properly on the bench and admire your work.

It tickles to consider the extent of abuse these well-worn keys have endured at the hand of its enthusiast owner. The piano was the very first thing he had unpacked when you moved into this apartment a couple of summers ago, your first place together. Almost instantly it felt like home, even with blank walls and no furniture, aside from numerous stacks of cardboard boxes. The only thing occupying the room was Chan with a pencil tucked behind his ear to notate every tweak made to the piece he was composing. Sometimes, you’d catch him grinning to himself once the right notes fell into place and the room would suddenly appear brighter. His presence transformed any space into a beautiful sanctuary. 

Hands clutch your chest as if it will somehow quell the sharp pang of longing deep within. Have you been so busy and distracted you hadn’t noticed the depth of the void that had stealthily crept into your lives? No, it wasn’t obliviousness. You just didn’t want to hinder him, especially when he was dedicating himself so earnestly to the career he’s built, to the team that needs him. You lied to yourself, said it was fine that you couldn’t remember the last time you ate a proper meal together, or got lost in a late-night conversation that stretched into dawn. It’s only when your head falls against the sternum do you acknowledge the wetness collecting in your waterline. The relegated instrument before you breeds a deeply discomforting feeling of recognition in your stomach.

Maybe you should just stay here, see how much dust collects on your shoulders until he notices. It’s painful to consider if he’d notice at all.

A melody he penned resonates amongst your distraught clamor of thoughts. The recollection is fuzzy, like it’s being filtered through an old phone line. Your hand moves on autopilot until a subtle and delicate sound emerges from the slow press of a key, summoning a wave of calmness to fall over you. Like a hushed secret, the note seems to linger, its tone rich and full, as if time itself has slowed down by its enchantment. With another caress of a key, and then another, every nuanced vibration somehow finds its place in the tranquility of the room bathed in hazy light.

Your rendition wasn’t perfect, but it felt good to get lost in the memories that surface from the music. You picture those tufts of soft curls bobbing along to the rhythm, chiseled features set in fixated concentration before he lost himself in the song. Chan’s passion was palpable, but what mesmerized you most was the graceful arc of his hands that moved with a fluidity that spoke to years of diligent practice. Hands of a god, Jisung would say when you watched them in the studio sometimes.

Your heart does a somersault when your playing is accompanied by the distant sound of a lock unlatching, followed by subdued creaks of floorboards. A stifled chuckle approaches from the doorway and pulls you from the daydream. “Please, don’t stop,” Chan smiles once your eyes meet. “I love this song.”

The man is a vision; dampened strands of hair appear dark against the flush of his skin, a result of what must have been an intense dance practice. A display of dimples almost distracts you from noticing how his shirt clings to the broad expanse of his shoulders. The black fabric does nothing to conceal the swell of biceps when he folds his arms over his chest. As he steps past the threshold of the space, the contours of his profile suddenly shimmer in the light. There’s a hitch in your breath, and your cheeks must appear flush too, but for a totally different reason.

“I don’t remember how this part goes,” you admit and bashfully turn your attention back to the instrument. Your fingers falter as you hit all the wrong keys, pulling huffs of laughter from Chan at the dissonant sounds you’ve produced. 

All your muscles tense once he closes the space between you. Tone arms wrap around your body so Chan can guide your hands to the right keys. His breath tickles the shell of your ear when he leans in over your shoulder, the rhythm calm and in complete contrast to the erratic thumping of your pulse. 

“I’ll show you,” the low octave of his voice incites goosebumps. 

With tender patience, Chan guides your overlapping hands through the first set of notes. He hums along to the melody, harmonizing with the song while your interlaced fingers explore their way across the keys. How you yearned for this, the feeling of his warmth enveloping you—it excited every atom of your being, elicited a kind of vibrating sensation under your skin. You lean back against him and nuzzle the crook of his neck. A deep inhale has you feeling dazed, the mixture of his musk and the scent of smoky vanilla like a potent drug.

“Y/N, you’re not paying attention,” your boyfriend coos.

Just one more inhale before you can respond. The corners of your mouth curl upward as you ask how he can tell.

“You’re making me do all the work,” he tsks with feigned disappointment. 

“I’ll give you a reward for your efforts,” the plush of your bottom lip ghosts over the edge of his jaw, feeling the muscles clench beneath. An open-mouth kiss presses into the bone and you’re unable to resist swiping your tongue along his skin. It tingles when Chan’s muffled groan reverberates against you. It only encourages you to suckle at the spot you’ve claimed to relish in the salty taste.

You’re so focused on him, it doesn’t register that the music has ceased until you feel your hands guided to your chest. With your fingers still intertwined, Chan helps you knead at the flesh over your tank top. You exhale a satisfied sigh when he makes you cup your breast and squeeze. One hand fondles while the other creeps down the expanse of your torso, tantalizingly slow. You have to face forward and focus on the silhouette of your figures just to try and regulate your breathing. 

“Do you know what my favorite instrument to play is?” His voice is velvet in your ear, his mouth hot on the expanse of your skin. A shiver is the only response you can manage. 

Teeth nip at the junction where your shoulder and neck meet. There’s so much unabated hunger behind it, the pleasure of sudden pain pools in your gut. Chan gently pushes your thighs apart and forces your fingers to trail up the skin of your thigh. A high-pitched whine falls past your lips as your hands brush over where you need his touch the most. There’s no point in attempting to hide how much you want that sweet friction on you, and he knows it. Your boyfriend chuckles with your flesh still in between his teeth. 

“It’s you, baby. You make the prettiest sounds,” his words get lost amongst the sound of your labored breaths. Hips reflexively buck forward to meet where hands hover over your clothed mound and you can feel the wetness through the cotton fabric, already so damp from just his teasing. Chan hums with satisfaction from your undoing, then rewards you with soothing licks to the indents left behind from his bite.

He’s all over you but not close enough. Only thoughts of wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling the weight of his tongue in your watering mouth flood your mind, washing away all traces of doubt and insecurity. He must be thinking the same because there isn’t a speck of resistance when you shift your body around and tackle him onto the carpet. The action is impatient, ravenous, and completely welcomed by your boyfriend if his bruising grip on your waist is any indication. Your eyelids slip shut with the connection of lips, finally slotted together after what felt like a stagnant eternity. One eager lick at the seam of your mouth is all the prompting you need to part your lips and allow him entrance. With each brush against your tongue, tiny spurts of electricity pulsate down to your core.

“Y/N… Miss you so much… It hurts,” Chan’s confession comes out like a pained moan in between sloppy kisses. Something lurches in your chest hearing the rasp in his voice. You pull away just enough to discern the furrow in his brow, the desperation behind his widened brown eyes. He felt it too, didn’t he? Amid the long and grueling hours of work, your boyfriend must have agonized in your absence, just as you did in his. This anguish etched across his features is all the sobering confirmation you need and much more than you can stomach. 

Did he genuinely doubt that you missed him too? How utterly unfathomable is that! Yet, It’s not like you’ve done a stellar job expressing your feelings either. Fuck, you’re such a hypocrite, weren’t you just spiraling from the same exact thought? You curse yourself for ever questioning his adoration, and Chan must see the moment guilt flickers in your eyes because his expression turns fearful. How could you be so stupid as to entertain the idea that the most devoted person you know might waver? When he loved, he did so with the entirety of his being, never allowing himself to hold back. His passion was simply too profound to be restrained, especially when it came to the matter of you. 

“I miss you too, Channie,” it takes more strength than expected to keep your voice from trembling. “More than I can even articulate.” 

A long, hard kiss finds its place at the corner of his mouth. You hope the chaste action will convince Chan of the sincerity of your words. The softened gaze and release of a withheld breath trapped in his throat appear to be signs of success, but there are a few other methods you have in mind to truly prove your infatuation with him; lewd fantasies that flash behind your eyelids practically have you purring.  

The back of your hand gently brushes down his face and you feel your eyes crease with adoration for the man underneath you. When your tongue dips back into his mouth, the maneuver is not as rushed as before-–it’s heavier, sensual, and much more calculated. You’re desperate to swallow every one of his whimpers, every response you can solicit with a grind of hips against your boyfriend’s hardened length. Chan threads the hair at the back of your head between his knuckles and pushes your mouths even closer together until he’s literally stealing your breath. 

You disconnect to gasp for air in the crook of his neck. It feels like you’re floating, so lightheaded from it all that your brain lags to process the instant he flips you down onto the carpet. His features go uncharacteristically serious as he sits back on his heels in between your splayed thighs.

 “I need you–right now,”

Chan’s hands reach for the hem of his shirt and time seems to tick by in slow motion. Fabric bunches in his grasp as he lifts it over his head to reveal the sculpted muscles of his torso. Your gulp is audible when he frees himself from the restraints of his joggers, the head of his cock is glazed with arousal which glistens in the setting sun. You can’t seem to shuffle out of shorts fast enough. 

If only you could see the view from above, how drunk in bliss you must appear as Chan peppers wet kisses down your body, discarded clothing littering the floor surrounding your joint forms. Intrinsically, your fingers card through his hair, like the grip on the brunette strands could possibly help you hold on to the bits of composure that are left. His licks at your flesh are slow, messy, and reduce you to a blathering puddle. Whimpers have devolved into tortured whines at this point, but that’s just how he likes it—you can almost feel his crooked smile when he noses past your navel.

“You sound so fucking perfect,” Eyes nearly roll back into your skull in tandem with the flat swipe of his tongue up your entrance. But then Chan leans forward to hover above you again, and a part of you wants to mourn the loss of delicious pressure until his smug grin reminds you the best is yet to come. “And you taste so fucking perfect… I wanna feel how perfect you fit around me.” He teases your folds with the tip of his cock, eyes dancing over your features for signs of discomfort. Any other time you would find the consideration endearing, but you’re fed up with clenching around nothing. 

“C’mon babe, show me how much you missed me,” The command comes out more like a hiss, and that revenant look on his face immediately darkens with lust. Your generous lover doesn’t show any hesitation when he sheaths himself in you, and the sudden fullness punches the air out of your lungs. Your brows pinch together from the stretch, but a wild smile grows on you; It's been so long since you had him like this that you feel insane with want. Nails drag up and down the muscles of his back, motivating a wavelike roll of his hips with every new mark that’s made. He’s exquisite with the plush of his lip tucked between his teeth, obviously impacted by the feel of rubbing against your walls.

Chan arches his back and drops his head down to watch himself disappear into you over and over. His cock feels impossibly deep once you angle your pelvis upwards to chase after his movements, and you know he can feel it hit that spongy spot that will have you seeing stars soon. It’s invigorating, this feeling of fucking yourself on his thickness, but it must overwhelm him because it’s all too soon that you’re forcefully pinned down at the waist and rendered immobile. 

“So eager,” he chides with a smirk playing at his eyes. “Don’t you want me to last?” 

You’ll blame the slip of this filthy admission on being shamefully cock drunk when you replay it in your head tomorrow. No time to be shy now. “I want you fuck me ‘til I black out full of your cum, Bang Chan.”

You can practically see the static whirl in his head until a switch flips. The carnal desire that remained locked away in the name of chivalry is finally unleashed, and exhilaration sets your body ablaze. He says nothing, just stares at you with blown-out pupils as a swift tug brings you flesh against him. The strength of his grip remains unyielding, even as he's buried in you to the hilt, and a silent prayer is made for there to be visible bruises left from where Chan’s fingers dig into your hips. He savors the snug sensation for a moment before rocking his body forward with a gratifying intensity. As each thrust jolts your body further up the floor, the rub of the carpet on your back burns but in the most delectable way. Ceaseless expletives and groans pour out of him with every squelch of your cunt, but in contrast with the pornographic sounds, something much more tender and romantic blooms in the center of your chest. Soon it’s clawing its way up your throat, pricking at your eyes until a cascade of tears dampens the hair around your ears. 

“So in love… with you.. with you, with y-you,” your mantra is like fuel to the hot coil that threatens to snap in your stomach. It’s clear you won’t last much longer, but neither will Chan, judging by how fervent and unharmonious his ruts into you have become. As the haze in your vision dissipates, time becomes elusive, suspended between eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. The emerging image you find above finally propels you over the precipice; It’s your lover, his sweat-slicked skin, the keen edges of his beautiful face, illuminated in a light born between waning sunset and encroaching dusk that splinters your heart open. You’re certain this room exists outside of the laws of space and time. That’s how it feels, anyway. 

“Clenching s-so tight, baby,” Chan pants onto your lips, trailing right behind you with his eyes sealed in a rapture of pleasure. A few more languid thrusts has him humming with blissful satisfaction.

Within the next minute or century, you coax his body on top of yours with idle caresses smoothed into his lower back. He obliges, resting his cheek between your breasts as he tries to steady his breath to a calmer rhythm. Fingers trace taut muscles before finding their way into the mess of curls at the back of his head, and Chan purrs at the gentle massage you give him, the sound reverberating down into your ribcage. He’s a toasty blanket on you, warmed by a radiant kind of love.

Your mind floats somewhere so giddy and cozy that it requires actual effort to rouse the muscles in your mouth to form words. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I’ve been feeling lately. I missed you terribly, but didn’t want to guilt you into leaving work. I know that’s where you should be.”

The abrupt loss of heat against your skin jolts you back into reality once Chan raises on his elbows to pin you with a stare. “Where I should be, the only place I ever want to be–is with you. It’s where I’m the happiest. It’s where I belong, yeah?” His voice is firm but there is no actual hardness swimming in his brown eyes, only a will for his heartfelt look to convey the honesty in his words. The smile you return is a knowing one, one full of endearment and serenity.

“Now then,” Chan gruffs as he plops himself back down against you. “What do you want to do tonight?”

Delicate fingers weave through his hair once more as you rest your head on the carpet. Your gaze fixates to the ceiling above, where shadows and soft light sway together in a subtle dance. You can't think of anything you would rather do than this, with him.

ᴀ/ɴ :･ hehe haha been workin on this for a minute! please let me know if you enjoyed it. this fic is v much a self indulgent story born from the lyrics "there is nothin like doin nothin with you" from 'Nothing' by Bruno Major.

[neteyamyawne]

What requests are you working on??

• I'm currently working on :

༊*·˚ Norm x fem!reader – It's avatar 1 war, norm and reader are fighting and reader gets injured, angst, lots of angst so excited to post it 😤✋🏼

༊*·˚ Tonowari Family x fem!daughter!reader – again lots and lots of angst, instead of Neteyam dying, reader, Tonowari and Ronal's eldest daughter dies

༊*·˚ Kinktober fics :

* Thigh Riding - Tonowari

* Choking/Spanking - Quaritch

* BlowJob - Tsu'tey

Lol I've been jumping from one fic to another 😭💀✋🏼

[warsavant]

                      a step faltered, resolution trickling away, adhering nerf leather boots to an intricate iridescent stone floor.   crimson eyes tracked a particular white tunic as it wove amongst the guests, colonel yularen, the only cause for his presence.   an insistent presence, desiring once more to spin the chiss deeper into the echelons of power after another satisfactory victory.   if left to his own devices, captain thrawn would hardly choose to attend such an event, let alone one where he hardly knew the host.

                      or where far too many eyes turned on him with such distaste.

                      neither the elaborate bar which seeming grew from the floor, not a seam to be seen, nor joining one of the groups scattered about the low couches appealed for this reason alone.   multiple laid against either option, yet the near nil prospect of welcome remained the strongest.  another languid scan of the lavish apartment, and he once more stepped forward, conviction in his stride.   not to either side of the room did he stray, but continued straight toward the wall spanning windows with an impressive view of imperial center, the dome of the senate within sight.   that, however, was not his destination.   an abstract piece hung between, clearly a human artist but with a most interesting peculiarity.   it was in the style of a certain band of itinerant ithorian artists, once so extremely popular, he gathered, toward the end of the republic.   

                      now, they had fallen out of favor with the human elite as the empire continually pressed forward with occasionally subtle, occasionally blatant, human-centric policies.   what an apt piece to observe for a man in his position…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— @naturesbeat ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ

[ofenigmas]

(Chloe Bennet) [THE DETACHED]. Please welcome [MARLANA ZHAO (SHE/HER)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [29]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [ASSISTANT EDITOR AT HUNTSVILLE DAILY]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

BASICS

NAME: marlana ingrid zhao

BIRTH DATE + AGE: april 16, 1994 – 00:00

GENDER: female

PRONOUNS: she/her

ORIENTATION: heterosexual biromantic ? 

OCCUPATION: assistant editor at huntsville daily

BIRTHPLACE: new york city 

FAMILY: gisela zhao née schneider - mother (alive??), zhao haoyu - father (alive??), luca zhao - older brother (presumed dead)

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: chloe bennet

EYE COLOR: dark brown

HAIR: naturally medium brown. frequently dyed. currently dark brown.

HEIGHT: 5′6″

TATTOOS: a bluebird (lower back, a drunken dare) sun and moon tattoo on left wrist (x).

SCARS/BIRTH MARKS: jagged line diagonally across her right forearm (from barbed wire fence)

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC: aries sun, gemini moon, sagittarius rising

MBTI: estp, the entrepreneur.

ENNEAGRAM: 7w8, the realist. sexual/self preservation subtype

ALIGNMENT: chaotic good/neutral

TEMPERAMENT: choleric

ARCHETYPE: the detached / the defiant

ELEMENT: fire

ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS: april ludgate, megara from hercules, flynn rider, ron swanson, lois lane, han solo, georgia miller (according to mbti/enneagram still need to watch lmao)

AESTHETIC: crumpled newspapers, crimson, muffled laughter, ash- or ink- covered hands, rebellion, ruined dreams, the desire to stargaze on the roof, old history books, messy handwriting, irritatingly smug smiles, denim jackets, vodka, tight black dresses, broken champagne glasses, holding you an arm’s length away.

BIOGRAPHY TW: death, mention of skiing accident (not the gwyneth paltrow one)

born in new york city, youngest of two children, daughter of a software developer and a history professor. 

hates her name, always introduces herself as lana.

always wanted to be an investigative journalist (a perfect outlet for someone with a penchant for never minding her own business) 

an extrovert, but her friendships seemed to follow her since birth. her family was incredibly close to the Vargas and XXX families and she formed a tight knit circle with their children, especially Nina and Dante. she’d never felt the need for more friends. 

despite an intense sibling rivalry, was very close to her brother Luca. 

got accepted into Columbia for Journalism. spent six years there due to being forced to take a semester off from a skiing accident and having a year long internship. 

planned a week long ‘spring break’ trip in key west, florida to celebrate finally graduating and landing a position at the new york times. the caravan ended up being her, her best friends nina and dante, her boyfriend, her brother luca, and luca’s best friend.

after a particularly long night of drinks and fight over something so trivial she barely remembers, a drunken lana broke up with her boyfriend. god, what a horrible start to spring break. it was fine. she’d sleep it off and they’d either make up or she could avoid him the rest of the trip. except... the trip never ended, as they never made it to florida, instead detouring into huntsville, west virginia. 

she tried every single day for a year to find a way to leave or communicate with the outside world. didn’t take it seriously at first, avoided any sort of relationship with anyone because ‘we’ll be back to our normal lives soon’ unless interrogating them on if they knew anything. 

after a year, luca (her brother who had agreed to be a hunter) never returned from his trip. that was the first time her resolve started to shatter. 

for two years, lana lived in some sort of haze. maybe this wasn’t real, some sort of hallucination. what if she’d been in a coma from her skiing accident and never woke up? any absurd excuse to not accept her life falling apart, she was even more brash and impulsive than usual, only her best friends and now-roommates dante and nina grounding her. except... then they watched soulless monsters destroy dante with their own eyes. 

since then (2 years ago), lana has somewhat accepted that her life is ruined and she’s stuck in this living nightmare for the rest of time, and it’s all her fault. since she never wanted to make new friends before, she’s not been any better now. quite chatty and curious, but makes no effort to get close to anyone. 

works at the local newspaper as some sort of sick joke to herself. she was qualified, after all. 

top 5 theme songs:

make it up as i go - mike shinoda, k.flay  i keep on running backwards. i keep on losing faith. i thought i had the answers. i thought i knew the way. my brother said be patient. i don't know what i'm chasing. i don't know who i am. waking in the dead of night, i can't sleep. sleeping in the light of day for like weeks, reality was out of focus, i could be hopeless. instead i gritted my teeth.

we won’t - jaymes young, phoebe ryan don't go to war for me. i'm not the one that you want me to be. -- are we just gonna stay like this forever? floating, i'm serious, my heart is furious. -- don't waste your time convincing me that maybe someday we'll get it right.

when you break - bear’s den  spoiled, selfish little child went out to play out in the wild. i found you shaking like a leaf underneath your family tree. you could never live out in the open, regretting every word you've spoken. when you break, it's too late for you to fall apart, and the blame that you claim is all your own fault.

crossroads - timeflies you ever just go through the motions? it's like i'm stuck in a game, thinking it'll be different, then it just come up the same. man how the hell did i get here? not like i knew the way. just take me back to the start again, just one more time on the stage.

long story short - taylor swift fatefully, i tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me. -- i was in the alley, surrounded on all sides. the knife cuts both ways. if the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break. -- and i fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. long story short, it was a bad time.

Her Pinterest board is here.

Her Spotify playlist is here.

FAMILIAL:

N/A (unless there’s a future way her brother could have survived in the woods for 4 years LMAO)

PLATONIC:

ROOMMATES - { 1 / 1 } - nina vargas A BROKEN TRIO - { 1 / 1 } - nina vargas - the one person marlana remains close to of the remaining survivors of their road trip and trio of best friends. only person she lets herself be vulnerable with. 

FRENEMIES - { 3 / 3 } - clara jones, morgan vovk, jace sinclair - marlana is generally snarky to everyone, but especially to these few. the bad part ?? she actually misses days when they aren’t around to tease. not that she would admit that. 

BAD INFLUENCEE - { 1 / ? } - calloway de la luna - marlana is far from ‘innocent’/’lawful good’, someone that she has no qualms about corrupting, perhaps even finds a small joy in dragging them to the bar or approving of what people would normally consider bad decisions.

GOOD INFLUENCE - { 1 / 2 } - mylene karimi - someone who has never given up on trying to befriend marlana. sort of a friendly “opposites attract” vibe in that they are more optimistic/sunshine-y/sillier than her in a way she begrudgingly finds she wants to be around. 

ACQUAINTANCES - { 1 / ? } - conrad greene - maybe they frequent the bar together, are always at the diner for lunch at the same time and ended up sharing a table, etc. she often frequents the daily grind, bucky’s diner, the sasquatch, and the library.

CO-WORKERS - { 3 / 4 } - evora kaplan, prudence wheaton, parker russo - other people who work at huntsville daily - is probably generally friendly to them and likes them more than other people in town unless plotted otherwise 

NEIGHBORS - { 4 / idk 6? } - tari park, avery cowling, rusty craven, genesis boone - people who live next door to her and nina TRAINING PARTNERS - { 1 / 1 } - morgan vovk - someone she went to for help learning to fight / defend herself after losing dante two years ago .

PROTECTIVE - { 1 / 1 } - parker russo - someone younger than her that she has sort of accidentally adopted and is very protective over. 25 or younger. 

ANTAGONISTIC:

FORMER FRIENDLIES - { 0 / ? } - people who were warm and welcoming to her in the first year or so who did not receive the same treatment in return and eventually gave up on befriending her.

ENEMIES - { 1 / 3 } -  zoë clark - a lawful good who can’t stand her chaotic good/neutral nature, someone who just can’t stand her snarky attitude, maybe she hates them simply bc they have a sunny disposition and don’t despise living in huntsville 

ALWAYS AVOIDANT - { 1 / 3 } -  • after losing her brother she decided to go after him in case he was alive and snuck out while nina was asleep to “monster hunt”, unsure if she had much intent to return without him. she nearly died and has a nice scar on her arm from getting caught on a barbed wire fence trying to escape one, but someone saved her and dragged her back to town. she generally avoids them and pretends it didn’t happen bc not good at saying thank you or acknowledging vulnerability. - eddie romero

• one of the people on the road trip was her brother luca’s best friend. in their old lives, she didn’t like him for some mundane and probably immature reason: he wasn’t from her tight knit families or he and luca tried to do things without her as kids, etc. since luca’s death 4 years ago, she’s generally cut him off, worried he’ll blame her for being stuck in huntsville (she didn’t even want him on the trip!!!) or for luca and bc he reminds her of the past. must be a “visitor” who arrived around 5 years ago on their road trip. lived in nyc anywhere from just for a master’s/new job for a few years up to his entire life. age: probably early 30s? • dante’s twin brother - dante was her other best friend who was killed 2 years ago - his twin has been looking for him for over 5 years since dante and his friends never returned from their trip - lana would avoid him, not wanting to dwell on the past long enough to explain what happened -  must be a “visitor” who just arrived. lived in nyc at least for his childhood. age: around 30

ROMANTIC:

* ✨  i do not plot out ships so none of these are meant to lead to an actual “romantic” ship unless it does on accident from chemistry! ✨ 

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN - { 3 / 3 } -  fletcher cole, cyan canne, riley saunders - people who are maybe antagonistic-leaning as a connection that she’s accidentally had a one night stand with due to poor impulse control. male/nonbinary. 

“THIS WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN” - { 1 / 1 } - duck romero - same as above except definitely antagonistic connection + she keeps reminding him that this will “absolutely never happen again” and would deny having any connection with him if anyone asked.  inspo: (x) (x) “WE CAN BE CASUAL” - { 0 / 1 } - they’re both attracted to each other, and get along quite well,  but whatever this is at least originated after a drunken/sleep-deprived conversation abt how they have no interest in a romantic future with anyone. maybe seem kind of romantic to others. 0-3 years. inspo: (x) (x) (x)

UNREQUITED - { 0 / 1 } - whether they’ve not actually indicated this interest/did and were turned down and are still trying or agreed to be friends, he has a romantic interest in marlana, which is rather difficult since she... pretends she doesn’t have feelings. anything from acquaintances to fwbs. probably deserves better than her.  inspo: (x) (x)

EX-BOYFRIEND - { 0 / 1 } - they dated anywhere from 6 months - 5 years and his feelings can be anywhere from was cheating on her/using her for family connections to was abt to propose, sky’s the limit. she broke up with him the night before they got stuck in huntsville (probably a silly drunken fight or general panic over starting a new life chapter) and even if one or both of them would have wanted to make up, they never got the chance. it’s been over 5 years now so it could be a he despises her for dumping and then trapping him here, exes w jealousy, a will they won’t they where they always back out last minute, he wants her back when he rly shouldn’t, only she has unresolved feelings, he just wants to be friends again, etc etc!  must be a “visitor” who arrived around 5 years ago on their road trip. lived in nyc anywhere from just for a master’s/new job for a few years up to his entire life. age: probably early 30s? inspo: (x) (x)

OTHER - feel free to hit me up with any other ideas you have as well ! please feel free to mix or match any of these from any category ! 

[burning-fcols]

“Oh yeah that’s stolas. He’s like obsessed with me. It’s totally cool.” (baby blitz for moxxie) -  ✩   「 @bliitzo 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 ❝ Really? ❞ Moxxie breathes, tone awash in awe as big, curious eyes flit between the owlet— currently distracted a fair distance away —to his fellow Impling. Hands fidgeting in front of himself, Moxxie looks down at anxious fingers before glancing off to the side. In the opposite distance, he sees Chaz getting into some form of mischief... Legs itching to run over and join, if only for the shark to have a better opinion of him, he resists the urge. Nerves and politeness keeping the small boy next to Blitzo instead.

❝ How uh... How did you do that? ❞ Timidly voicing the question as he looks back at Blitzo, cheeks tint a faint rose, tail curling around himself. ❝ Get him to like you so much, I mean... ❞ Still new to the concept of making friends, Moxxie feels as if he's floundering in the dark. While he HAD managed to make some progress with Chaz— he thinks? —there's no denying that sometimes he feels more like a useful tool than an actual companion. Which isn't any different than how Moxxie is normally viewed.

But... he'd like things to be different with his first ❛ friend ❜. 「 ☆ 」

[sheismiley]

ღ  —   тαg ∂υмρ (ignore this)  —    ღ 

[mainheartbreakerr]

ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ.

—ᴅᴀᴍɪᴀɴ. ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ. ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ..?

—ɴᴏᴛ ɴᴏᴡ. ɪᴛ’s ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ʏᴇᴛ.

—ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ…

—ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴍᴀɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ christmas ᴡᴇᴇᴋᴇɴᴅs ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ.

(I’m trying something new…)