#*nervously posts*

[snootlestheangel]

I’m gonna regret this but To Love, To Let Go

Hehehe

I doubt anyone remembers, but there was a post I made where I quoted Nik from a super self indulgent thing I was writing

The quote from him was "Often times, the best way to comfort us from our fears, is to be reminded you are not alone."

To Love, To Let Go is where this quote is from

It's honestly the one self indulgent fic I'm still scared to share so forgive me if this is a lackluster response 😅 which like, is why I don't know why I drew attention to it so *nervous laugh* I don't know

It's a Price centric story, technically.

There's basically an apocalyptic event that occurs in the US and Laswell gets Price to help her assist the UN in rehoming the remaining US population. There was a Ground Zero in the Eastern part of the US, and I'm thinking it was pretty much some kind of "explosion" type deal" where anyone that was in Ground Zero when "The Incident" occurred is presumed dead.

There was a good two months before there were any decent intervention from outside sources, which meant the surviving US population was kind of left to defend for themselves. The lack of intervention was due to an almost "quarantine" like state the US had to be put under. When other countries were able to finally intervene and help the remaining population, it was clear all hell had kind of broke loose during the two months.

A massive amount of people are transported to different countries and a good portion of that is sent to the UK. Among these people, is an early teens aged girl that has lost everything. She was on a special school trip out-of-state when "The Incident" occurred, which means she's one of like maybe 3 people that can say they are technically Ground Zero survivors.

There's a whole big mess involving what to do with her. It's been like a month since the interventions began, and the British government specifically is getting to be really fed up with the bullshit they're having to deal with from the surviving US population they have coming into their country. Granted, I don't really blame the US people cause this is all very traumatic, but still. They aren't handling it as well as they really should be.

Anyways, the mess involving the kid. Somehow, she ends up under Price and Laswell's watch/care. She's been through some shit since "The Incident", so she's very closed off. Very quiet, struggles to eat for a variety of reasons, blah blah blah. After a while, while Laswell fights to get the kid a good placement, Price manages to get her to open up/warm up to him.

She's instantly attached to him, and vice versa. There's several nights in a row where Price calls his dearly beloved husband Nik to talk about her. He's fallen for her in a very paternal way. He just can't stand that an innocent girl like her has to go through any of this. Eventually, with Nik pulling the truth out of him, Price admits he thinks the only "good" place for her to end up is with him. Basically just admits he wants to adopt her.

Obviously, he ends up adopting her. The actual story part is just him learning how to be a father, her learning how to love a new family because she was actually really close to hers, and just them learning how to love some and let go of others.

[oneirotect]

De civitate Dei.

[ladbyrss]

Epilogue Pete Dinunzio Zombie au🗣️🧍

The Au and the design is inspired/Made by @unstablemolecules !!

[shepscapades]

Collection of (mostly dbhc) Ethubs doodles from over the past two years or so :]

[mariorsomething]

i cant believe she said that for real in the show thats so crazy

[keijisdolll]

#K. AKAASHI |

NSFW ( ＾◡＾)っ✂╰⋃╯

blurred lines . . . ❤︎

(i wrote this rly late at night so it kinda switches between second and third person + its my first time... dont mind pls ⛄︎)

to say you and keiji were just friends was a little... vague to say the least.

not even a little, absolute bullshit.

you two go way back; always at one another's homes every saturday or friday night, playing games with kotaro or just binging movies together- all that cute stuff. obviously, you two love each other, dare i say are in love with each other, but it's just never been a point of discussion. despite all the stolen glances, his obsession with kissing the top of your head or holding your hips, you guys have just … never talked about it.

it's not that you didn't want to talk about it, you wanted more than anything to do unspeakable things to that man for years now...who wouldn't?

but of course, all you could do every passing day was pray that something could magically change and you'd have his affection and sweet words to yourself every day. he probably has his reasons too for not just folding and confessing already. hopefully if he even reciprocates.

but when he asked you to be his roommate and share a dorm with him two years ago at the beginning of university, how could you tell someone so pretty no?

that pretty much never helped the increasing tension between you both - sexually, or romantically.... but hey, the no confessions game was still going strong.

even now, when keiji just returned back to your shared dorm from one of his later classes, he found you laid out on the plushness of the couch, your cutely decorated laptop resting on your bare thighs as you were wearing a cute pair of pajama shorts. a few short sentences on the illuminated screen of your laptop which screams to him that you were probably just assigned a research paper.

"new paper assigned n/n?" he hummed softly as he rested his bag on the floor near the door and taking off his shoes.

"mm yeah... only thing is that it's due in 2 days.." she huffed softly with a little pout, a face he knew meant she was stressed.

"yeah? how much words is it?" he hummed softly, sitting next to her laid body on the couch.

y/n turned her laptop to an angle keiji can see it, an email from her professor which explained her prompt and the word count.

damn.

"only two days? that has to be a mistake." he raised his brows, adjusting his glasses.

"its not..." she sighed softly. "i asked him about it in class. he was dead serious keiji...my grade is so done. i don't even know what to write about. all i got done was the context." y/n turned to him, a pout on her lips.

he sighed, "calm down, okay? stressing out this much isn't gonna help you n/n." his hand went to her cheek, his thumb gently stroking the apple of her cheek. damn him and his charm.

"come here, i'll help you." he murmured, his arms gently taking her arms to help her sit up and come up onto his lap.

and around 3 hours later, despite the evident exhaustion in both of you from this damn essay, you were a little more than half way through the word count.

"god...you're the best keiji..." she sighed softly, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

he chuckled, a familiar one that never really failed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. "can't have my favorite girl stressing now can i?" he ruffled her hair gently.

holy fuck.

why he made her sit in his lap was beyond her. all she knew was that his little name that he just called her made her clench around absolutely nothing, and she was so sick of this back and forth of trying to act like he didn't have an effect on her.

so she purposely squirmed on his lap while pretending to read an article, her ass moving teasingly but in a subtle way. she knew her subtle grinding didn't by any means go unnoticed by him, not how his slender fingers dug a little harder into her hips, and definitely not how his breathing grew more ragged.

"hey... n/n... you're squirming a little...please... it's distracting me..." he spoke with a strained voice, trying not to breathe noticeably.

"hm..?" she looked back at him, who knew how worked up subtle grinding can get him, his cheeks were insanely flushed, his fingers uncontrollably going on her bare thighs.

"come... get off n/n-" he panicked a little, his arms pulling up her torso to pick her up and trying to place her back onto the couch, but she went right back down, on his fucking bulge.

"oh fuck.." he choked out quietly his head going back against the arm rest.

"you're that hard from me barely even grinding?" she started. no turning back now for her. and to her surprise, all those years of chasing and wondering if he wanted her back... she felt so relieved from his next words.

"i can't fucking help it with you.." he swore helplessly. his needy hands guiding her hips to rub herself against his obvious bulge. "all this time and you don't think that i've been wanting to kiss you senseless since highschool..?"

and from that, her lips were on his, sharing wet and sloppy kisses that were making him leak pre cum into his sweatpants. grinding on his lap so nicely that she had him cursing into their sloppy kiss.

they eventually pulled away, a thin string of saliva between their mouths as her arms came up around his neck to steady herself as she ground on his bulge. gosh, his fucking print was so visible to her too from his sweatpants.

"fuck...i love you keiji.."

and within less than two minutes, your cute pajama shorts laid on the floor of your bedroom along with his sweatpants.

his hand held a handful of your hair while his other rested on the plush curve of your ass. his hips were thrusting so good into your drenched cunt, the room practically filled with the sound of your plush ass slapping against his hips and your muffled moans as he just sweet talked you.

damm him.

"god... you dont know how long i wanted to fuck you.." he panted into your ear, his skin slick with sweat

"keiji..." she cried helplessly beneath him.

"mhm baby... i got you...taking my cock so well." he murmured, his large hand squeezing her ass softly.

"you're so fucking pretty n/n, you know that?" he mumbled, placing sweet kisses and sucking hickeys onto her neck, his thrusts getting harder.

she couldn't even form a coherent sentence anymore. it's not like he was being crazy rough, but his cock was fucking long. and at a moderate, more fast pace like what he was doing, she felt as if she was seeing stars.

"ah...mmph..." she moaned sweetly into the pillow, knowing he was about to cum from how sloppy his thrusts were getting.

"mmh... there you go... oh fuck baby.." he panted, pulling out. his hand that was holding your hair let go, pumping slowly as thick and hot cum landed on your plush ass.

she panted softly into the pillows, her hips lowering from where he held them up as she rolled onto her back, his cum on her skin getting onto the sheets.

he panted soflty, pulling her into his arms and pressing a gentle loving kiss on her shoulder, while mumbling a soft, "i've always loved you baby."

its my first time writing so pls leave tips jjfnjjngjngjngjtn

[beanxiv]

˗ˏˋ ꨄ︎ ─── THREE BEATS .ᐟ ˎˊ˗

d. wayne al-ghul x fem!reader , just under 1k word count

note: sorry for taking forever to drop this!!! btw this is partly a character study and partly me needing to output my love for damian wayne .ᐟ mood board linked in the title is edited by me but pics aren't mine obvi ! content: use of pet names, arabic petname translations: qalbi = my heart, hayati (my personal fav) = my life, i think that's all I used in there, but if not lmk and i'll translate!! 🏷: @wiseavenuelove && lmk if anyone else would like to be added :3 [main masterlist] . [dc masterlist]

“ and suddenly, everything that happened becomes easy. « و فجأة يهون كل اللي فات » ─── ”

damian is not soft. he’s the grandson of ra’s al-ghul and the son of talia al-ghul and bruce wayne. he’s ibn al khufach, trained by the league of assassins and honed to be the greatest assassin – to tame the world.

correction: damian was not soft. past tense. even when he tried his damn hardest not to be.

you bring out the best worst in him.

if someone had told him just a few months ago, that he’d be laying with his head in the lap of the most beautiful girl in the world— he’d scoff in their face. and yet—

“look at this one, dami,” you hum, one hand carding through his hair and the other tilting your phone down so he can see the tiktok on your phone. “isn't it so cute?”

you’re sitting on the couch in your apartment, and he’s laid up taking the rest of the space, head propped on the plush of your thighs.

“do you want it?” he asks, lifting his gaze from his sketchbook to look at the video then at you. it’s a toy— he thinks. he’s not actually sure what it is, but it looks like a toy.

“no!” you answer quickly, because you should've seen where this would go, “well, yes, but i just think they’re cute. do not buy me one, damian.”

he ignores you, instead clicking his tongue and lifting his phone to his face. “hirono dolls?” he mutters after a few moments of typing and scrolling.

“damian.”

“i purchased four of them,” he hums, not flinching when you shake your head and say his name scolding again. “my finger slipped.”

“they're like twenty dollars each!” you huff, to which he frowns.

“twenty? you’re right, i should get you more.” he mumbles all to himself, swiping at his phone again.

“damian!” you say for about the millionth time, reaching for his phone. naturally, the demon’s son’s reflexes are too quick for you and he jerks it just out of reach.

“you want the doll and i want you happy,” he offers like that makes complete sense— and in his mind, it does.

“i am happy without you spending all your mon—”

“it's my father’s money.”

“even worse!” you sigh in half amusement, half exasperation.

“i don't see how,” he shrugs, sitting up now.

“i dont wanna watch you spend money on me every time i open my mouth about something, dami.” your gaze follows him as he straightens.

“then close your eyes,” he smirks like he always does when he comes up with a smart quip.

you swat at him playfully, “oh, you are so insufferable.”

instead of responding to your insult, he catches your hand, brings it to his lips to kiss your knuckles.“i bought five more. they’ll be here tomorrow morning, hayati.”

you open your mouth to say something— another retort he assumes— but before the first syllable even leaves your lips, he tugs you down by your hand to flop against his chest. “don’t,” he murmurs. “let me show my affection.”

you melt against him, arms looping around his neck, “you know, there's a lot of other ways to show affection, robin.”

“is that right?” he mumbles, moving his sketchbook and pens out of the way with his left hand— right arm still circled around your waist— so that he can lay back against the arm rest, taking you with him. “enlighten me.”

and so you lean in, press a kiss to his jaw, then his cheek and nose, until you're peppering kisses all over his face— save for his lips, to his light frustration.

“i think i’ve been enlightened,” he says, taking your chin to pull you in for a real kiss. it’s soft, slow, and entirely unexpected of a man who learned to kill before he learned alif baa and taa. it also serves to show that this side of him is reserved for you, and you only. when your eyelids are fluttering shut, forgetting the world around you– remembering only this boy in front of you who's not perfect in the slightest way but tries for you. this boy who would drop everything to be at your side, who would drain his pockets for you inverse to the way you fill his heart. a boy who'd never think he'd ever belong to someone— or, more so, have anyone to ever belong to him.

and yet here you are, in his lap with your mouth on his, reverent and like a prayer on his tongue.

damian wayne al-ghul is rarely ever speechless, and right now— when your fingers are curling in his hair— his brain feels too foggy to come up with words. forunately for him, words go unneeded when you kiss him, because he finds himself speechless every time you do.

you’re pulling back all too soon, and your eyes are sparkling in a way that makes him feel like there’s a sparkle in his own chest. the silence isn’t uncomfortable, but his heart is beating enough in a way that makes him exhale, “honestly, i would have never thought you would be interested in small toys, though i suppose i shouldn’t put it above you to be so animated over odd things and knickknacks.” you blink at him for a moment, still caught between the phantom feeling of his lips against yours, and the way it makes you feel as if you’re floating. “what?” then your expression slackens into a deadpan, “oh, seriously? you kiss me silly and then insult me?”

he smiles again, the sort of smile that tugs at his lips when he’s trying not to smile, and he laughs a bit– a sound you’ll never get tired of. “i can kiss you silly again if you’d like.” “i’d like very much,” you mock playfully, already pulling him in by the front of his shirt.

© beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, feeding into ai, translating, and modifying on any platform or by any means is not allowed.

reblogs with tags are highly appreciated!

[questionable-idea]

I need to make a guy a flustered and bumbling mess. For my continued well being

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

Alex Turner + before a show

[sthwaaberry]

firsts - k.hongjoong

wc: 550+

pairing: subby virgin hongjoong x fem reader

warnings: p w/o plot, handjob, blowjob, make out scene, mention of sex, lmk if i missed anything (not proofread!)

hongjoong had a lot of his firsts with you. first hug, first kiss, first date. he loved being with you and experiencing what it’s like to truly be loved and appreciated, he did.. but there was always one first he was seemingly hell bent on avoiding.

almost a year into your relationship, and you guys still hadn’t fucked. never going beyond a quick make out session, you never even saw hongjoong naked. you respected his boundaries, no matter how much you wanted him.

it was a night like any other, he came home after coming home from airport, chunky glasses sitting atop his nose bridge as you watched whatever shitty rom-com you chose. not even 30 minutes into the movie and he was all over you, having placed you in his lap leaving sloppy, rushed kisses on your lips; odd. usually you were the one to initiate it. though, you weren’t complaining. though the way his fists bunched at the oversized tee you were wearing started to worry you at his change in character.

“joong, is everything alright?” you murmur, a soft peck placed on your lips before he answers “yeah, just— fuck. today was really stressful, love. i wanna forget about my responsibilities right now, wanna focus on you.” he pouts. “can you help me forget?”

his words sent a shiver down your spine. was this really happening? you tried to ignore how heated your ears felt. “hongjoong, are you asking—“ “yes. please. i come home and you’re sitting here so damn pretty.. w-we don’t even have to fuck yet.” he says, clearly desperate. you bite your lip before leaving your spot on his lap, falling to the carpeted floor below the sofa, in between his spread thighs.

your eyes widen at the bulge you see in his boxers when you finally take off his pants. you weren’t expecting it to be this big. you slip the remaining fabric off, mouth salivating at the sight before you.

he wasn’t exactly thick, but he made up for it in length. his tip red and angry, dribbling with precum. you look up at him, watching as he purses his lips, glasses slightly crooked and foggy to the point where you could barely make out his eyes. you looked so damn pretty like this, slotted in between his legs.

you wrap your fingers around his length, giving him an experimental stroke, a gorgeous moan leaving his lips. you wanted to hear it again badly. encouraged by his sounds, you start stroking him slowly but surely, thumb running across his tip as a string of whines and profanities leave his lips.

“p-please, y/n.. need my cock in your mouth, you’ll let me, right?” he whimpers out, and you obey, lips slowly wrapping around his cock. with what you can’t fit in your mouth, you continue to stroke, feeling him throb inside of you.

“a-ah.. f-fuck, wait- m’gon—” with little to no warning, strings of his warm cum shoot down your throat, making you pull away for a bit to swallow, catching your breath.

“give me a warning next time, joong.” you say with a breathless chuckle, while hongjoong looks away flustered, grumbling an apology talking about how he didn’t mean to. meanwhile, you could tell he was noticeably less tense than before, leaving a satisfied smile on your face.

a/n: AAAA im sorry i know im supposed to be writing two other full fics but these images appeared on the tl in the dead of night and i couldn’t help myself 😣 i didn’t proofread sorry for mistakes, please leave your thoughts i’d love to hear it since this is my first time writing smut and thank you if you read all of this !!

[jennicatzies]

Fuck it posting all these

Messy Hamilton screenshot redraws

TURN AROUND BEND OVER I'LL SHOW YOU WHERE MY SHOE FITS dot png but without motion blur for you viewing pleasure

[cathoderaymission]

no caption for this one

[fatuismooches]

I need to know fellow Dottore lovers, how much of you also love this man 🥺 BECAUSE I DO!!!

[silversupremacy]

Is this a threat or flirting

[moeblob]

I love Chris so much you guys.

[oforchestralsteel]

Who: anyone Where: cytherea gallery

The sheer silence of the place is starting to get to Atticus. This section of the gallery is something ethereally quiet. Like a single sound would break a vow uttered by some divine something before he stepped in. He went out to breathe, to feel less of the cage of...existence. Not to feel more of the burden of being. It was a shame, there were some beautiful pieces here. But this was not worth this bird-stuck-in-its cage energy.

So much so that instead of stepping to the next section, Atticus pulled himself out of the building entirely to feel fresh air. Maybe his high collar loosened would help, but he would never do that in public. Instead he stood and took a number of deep breaths, to readjust himself to a proper existence. But he could feel them. Eyes on him. Head turned up and over, taking in the sight of the other. "I don't propose I could help you with something?" It wasn't supposed to sound accusatory, but Atticus' tone was always edged- like a balanced knife. He tried and failed many times to lose it.