#*wrong incorrect buzz*

[prlssprfctn]

Bruce, adopting Dick: Aw-w, what a sweet little kid! Surely, he is so polite, and—

Dick, the instance he gets in the battle: You fucking disappointment of a person, and (string of curses on his mother language)

Bruce: Oh. Okay.

Bruce, adopting Jason: Well, Jason was well-mannered and soft-spoken so far, so, maybe—

Jason to the random goon: You motherfucking asshole, I am going to shove this boa to your—

Bruce: Right. Okay.

Bruce, making Stephanie his Robin: Maybe...

Stephanie, using the same street language Jason did, if not worse: I FUCKED YOUR MOM, YOU SON OF A—

Bruce: Whatever.

Bruce, eying suspiciously quiet Tim, who came to interrogate the goon for the first time as a Robin: ?

Tim, the minute door closed behind him: Listen to me, you pathetic excuse of a man, I am going to fuck you up, in an—

Bruce, sighing: Yeah. Honestly. Whatever.

Bruce, staring at angry Damian, who looks like he is about to explode, but keeps up as much as he can: Go on, chump. Say what you want.

Damian, staring at the floor with the deadliest stare ever: Not to sound unbecoming, but... Loser. -_-

Bruce, flabbergasted: ...Okay.

[rebornofstars]

Hello? Taps mic. The hero of Time is a fossil because his story is so old and long dead that the shape of his corpse has been filled in with sediment and calcified it and the now people can only guess what manner of creature he used to be by the shape of his bones.  I can't put the words into the story but I read a book about how in ancient Greece farmers would find mammoth bones and call them bones of giants. the bones discovered in a place with many thunderstorms were called giants, who fell in battle against Zeus. people knew and questioned the stories but they still called them gods. was that boy a hero? did he really abandon their world? hello bee? i feel like you'd appreciate this crumb without the story. i don't know what to do with it but its fun to toss around in my head. he's old. he's time. he is bones in the shape of a huddled child, but his form is so strange to us we called him a warrior, a beast, a giant, anything but a small thing huddled in the ground long ago. I'm not like babying Time the grown man, I'm thinking the story of him. Wind’s idea of The Hero of Time and the Guy that we call Time are not the same person, ok? Taps mic. Like is this thing on? Can you hear me?

oh my god. im starting a new word document

[starry-bi-sky]

incorrect blood blossom au quotes

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Danny, as nightingale: *making horrific noise bombs* Nightingale: if i use this audio of the sun, reverse it, reverse it again, then layer it on top of these reconstructed dinosaur growls, and then drop the pitch, i can almost replicate the noise of a leviathan in the deep end of the zone :) Nightingale: some circles call this "psychological" warfare Nightingale: i call it a highly effective brown note

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Once Bruce's gimmick villains start popping up: Danny, gripping Bruce by the shoulders: Buzz. Buzz. listen to me. listen. Bruce: Danny: monologues? fuckin' wORK. you gotta let 'em monologue.

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Bruce: you incited a prison riot? Danny: you assaulted a police officer? Bruce: Danny: Bruce, trying not to smile: Bruce: actually, i assaulted three Danny, failing at trying not to smile: and i incited several

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Danny talking about cujo: —he’s a good dog! Bruce: im sensing a ‘but’ here Danny: ....you’re right there is a ‘but’ Bruce: hm. Danny: but, you know how ghosts have powers? Bruce: im assuming the dog has ghost powers. Danny: m. Mhm. he can become the size of a bus Bruce: … a h

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Bruce: wait. pause Danny, was about to drop Dad Lore on Bruce: Bruce: is this another horrifying thing from your childhood that im about to hear? Danny: Danny:…yeee..es? Bruce: *wearing the face of a man mentally preparing himself for whatever fucked up shit danny’s about to spit out of his mouth* hn Bruce: carry on

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Nightingale: be the karma you wanna see in the world. Nightingale: with a few tranquilizers, a slingshot, and some red paintballs, you too can trick the mob into thinking that they've been shot by Batman's sniper from hell! Nightingale, winking: they're not totally wrong about it either!

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Nightingale: I cant kick people in the face anymore thanks to the bone-eating poison Superman: the what- Nightingale: so i do the next best thing, and enact psychological warfare on Bat's enemies instead.

[cece693]

hihi! i luvv ur hannigram work, i rlly need to start reading some of ur other work! especially now that I know u write for twilight!!

can I please request hannigram x reader who has really bad trauma and it gives them awful nightmares? like reader wakes up after a nightmare and cannot fall back asleep, or be alone, so they just lay in bed beside them. or they go to the living room and stay with one of the dogs. when I was little I went through a lot of things and they caused rlly bad nightmares that I still have, and ive read fics abt reader dealing with nightmares but they all feel so wrong for some reason.

NIGHT MANAGEMENT PROTOCOL

pairing: hannigram x gender neutral reader With this being a sensitive topic, I didn't fully disclose the trauma reader went through and from the deepest part of myself, I tried to be as respectful in writing such a thing. However, I'm still human so please (politely) inform me if anything is incorrect or offensive in any manner. Thank You!

You surface hard from the nightmare—lungs dragging for air as though someone turned gravity off while you slept. Sweat sticks the sheet to your back; the cotton feels like gauze in a wound. At first you don’t even open your eyes. The darkness behind your lids is an echo of where the dream left you: concrete overhead, fluorescence buzzing, bleach biting your nose. Somewhere, metal ticked like coins in a dryer. You concentrate on identifying a single sound in the real bedroom—anything familiar enough to prove you’re home.

There.

The radiator ticks once. Wooden house, Wolf Trap, January. If the heat’s running it’s past two-thirty in the morning; Will always lowers the thermostat before he goes to bed. You catalogue the detail like a field note and shuffle for another: faint dog snores, different pitches. Buster’s warble; Winston’s whistling exhale; Max’s occasional “hmmph” when his feet twitch. No echo. No metal.

That should be enough—but the snapshot of the dream has burned afterimages across your vision. A length of chain swings in bright, vicious loops. You taste copper and realize your jaw’s locked so tight it’s bruising the inside of your cheek.

Next to you, Will and Hannibal breathe in opposite cadences—Will a coastal tide, Hannibal an old cathedral organ. You could stay. You want to stay. But your skin is buzzing, every nerve ending convinced you’re still horizontal on that metal.…If you lie down you’ll flinch and wake them both, and that would feel like losing the small victory of silence you’ve practiced for months.

You open your eyes and ease upright, peeling the damp tee from your chest. The room’s temperature feels Antarctic on your skin, a shock that breaks the dream’s static. You slip out from under the duvet, feet searching the braided wool rug. At the foot of the bed, Winston’s ear flips. He’s on early-warning duty—he perks whenever anyone leaves the bed after midnight. You stretch a hand, scratch behind the ear in apology.

“Stay,” you whisper, though your voice cracks on the single syllable.

You cross the hallway by touch, refusing to switch on lamps—light this early triggers headaches. The house creaks. Nothing predatory, just timber shrinking in the cold. But your chest tightens anyway. Your therapist calls the sensation “echo fear”—when the body acts like time hasn’t passed. You rub the heel of your palm under your ribs, convincing yourself it’s bone, not chain, pressing there.

The living-room hearth throws faint glow; embers from the dinner fire still pulse behind the grate. You squat, prod a charred log until sparks jump. Fire, dogs, blankets: the recipe printed on Will’s fridge under a magnet shaped like a stag’s head, labeled “Night Management Protocol.” You almost laugh—Will, emperor of insomnia, reduced the worst parts of your life to a checklist. But the pragmatism works.

You tug an Afghan throw from the sofa back and sink onto the rug. Ellie ambles over, claws clicking; she thumps her head into your chest and collapses half across your lap, deadweight of a dog who knows practice rounds by heart. You bury both hands in her coat—live warmth, dusk-sweet scent of cedar chips and dog shampoo.

Grounding: five things you can touch (fur, wool, hardwood under one knee, the knuckle ridge of your own hand, the tackiness of old sweat). Four you can see (embers, fireplace grate, Ellie's mismatched eyes, the crooked picture frame over the mantel). Three you can hear (wind through the eaves, Ellie's breathing, the fridge cycling). Two you can smell (burned oak, dog). One you can taste (copper on your tongue, real, not memory).

Heart rate lowers; you feel it like a gear downshifting. You stroke Ellie’s side until your fingers stop shaking.

A floorboard moans behind you. You don’t jolt—Will never calls your name abruptly if he senses you’re raw. He pads into the firelight wearing one of Hannibal’s robes, silk pooling at the cuffs, drawstring of Will’s sweatpants peeking underneath. Bed hair collapses over his eyes. He eyes the hearth, then Ellie, and finally you.

“Chasing ghosts again?” he asks roughly. He doesn’t mean the phrase as flippant; it’s the label you gave the nightmares in group therapy.

“They didn’t want to stop running tonight,” you admit.

Will sits cross-legged opposite you, mirroring posture. He waits until Ellie shifts enough to rest her head in Will’s lap, then drapes a palm over yours. Your pulse drums beneath tendon; Will doesn’t comment, just lets the warmth drain from him into you. He studied polygraph biofeedback in Quantico—he can sync breathing like a metronome.

“Want company or quiet?” he murmurs after a moment.

“Both,” you say, embarrassed by the contradiction.

Will’s mouth curves. “We can manage both.” He scoots closer until knees bump, then simply sits, eyes half-closed, breathing a steady 4-7-8 pattern. You follow—inhale four, hold seven, exhale eight—and the edges of the living room sharpen; no more tunnel vision.

A soft flick of a switch: the lamp on the sideboard glows amber. Hannibal stands in the threshold, one hand still on the toggle, head inclined as though he’s observing a nocturnal species newly discovered. Where Will looks half-drowned in sleep, Hannibal is maddeningly composed—robe cinched, hair smooth, expression neutrally concerned.

“I woke and found the bed missing two occupants,” he explains, voice pitched quiet enough not to break the hush. “I feared the dogs had stolen you both for their own.”

“We are communing with the pack,” Will answers, tone affectionate but wry.

Hannibal steps onto the rug, kneels with a surgeon’s elegance, and settles behind you so your backs touch. The contact is slight—linen brushing your skin—but it chains you to the present more effectively than any grounding trick. You feel the rise of his breath against your spine like a slow tide.

“What remained when you woke?” he asks. Hannibal never says “tell me the nightmare”; that frames it as narrative, something he could pick apart intellectually. Instead he focuses on residuals—scent, sound, body memory. Easier to translate without reliving.

“Bleach,” you say after a swallow. “Cold metal table. Chain on tile. And…fluorescent hum. I hate that buzz.”

“Which sense feels safest to load first?” he prompts.

“Smell, maybe.”

Hannibal reaches, plucks a half-burned cedar log from the basket, nudges it onto the embers. Turpentine-sweet smoke unfurls. “Cedar counters bleach,” he says. “A softer antiseptic, one humanity has used for preservation, not erasure.”

You breathe in until lungs ache pleasantly. Ellie sneezes once in protest, then settles.

“Sound?” Will offers, glancing up. He reaches to the bookshelf under the window, retrieves an old wind-up metronome. He sets it to sixty beats per minute—average resting heart rate—and starts the pendulum. A gentle tick-tock over the fire’s crackle replaces the fluorescent drone in your head.

“Touch,” you murmur. Hannibal’s hand comes round, palm flat to your sternum, thumb stroking the dip above the xiphoid process. Will covers your hands where they drum a nervous tattoo on your thigh. Two points of warmth—front and back—like brackets sewn around a wound.

“Anything left?” Will asks, gaze steady.

You hesitate—taste of copper still lingers. Hannibal’s eyes narrow imperceptibly—he smells blood when no one else can. You lift your thumb to your mouth, wipe the inner cheek, show the faint red. “Bit myself.”

Hannibal rises, returns with the small first-aid tin kept on the mantel. Instead of antiseptic swabs he produces a square of dark chocolate—the emergency stash he pretends is for low blood sugar, though you know it’s for nights exactly like this. “Let us replace the flavor.”

You accept, let the chocolate soften on your tongue until bitter gives way to caramel notes. The tension between your shoulders loosens another centimeter. Will glances at the clock—3:07 a.m. “We could stay up,” he offers. “Hot milk, scrambled eggs, bore ourselves back to sleep.”

“Or,” Hannibal counters, voice the verbal equivalent of a down pillow, “we could attempt rest again, now that the worst has been named.”

A month ago you’d have chosen wakefulness, afraid the second sleep would reopen the wound. Tonight the room feels survivable. You nod. Hannibal’s fingers squeeze once in acknowledgment; Will stands, joints popping, and whistles for Ellie to go back to her bed.

The walk back to the bedroom is still a corridor of potential darkness, but Will’s shoulder brushes yours every other step, Hannibal’s palm rests between your shoulder blades, guiding. When you pause at the doorway, lungs hitching, Hannibal flips the hall light off himself—removing the choice that paralyzed you. Inside the room, moonlight paints silver stripes across the foot of the bed. Normal. Familiar.

Will crawls in first; you slide after him, and Hannibal takes the outermost edge, creating a human enclosure. Will tugs the duvet over your hips, then threads his fingers through yours and settles them on his chest so you can feel respiration without needing to check visually. Hannibal curls against your back, knees bracketing yours, his breath a warm tide at the nape of your neck.

“Five senses,” Hannibal murmurs against your skin, a reminder rather than instruction. You breathe in cedar, chocolate, clean cotton, dog. Will’s heartbeat thrums under your ear. The metal table dissolves.

[1000sunnygo]

The Rocky Port incident... (2)

was trending in Japan last night, so here's a post magazine release follow-up.

I was looking forward to hearing japanese readers' thoughts, but the source text itself is pretty vague which didn't help them either.

At least now the JP version is available, so I tried my hand on translating it as literally as possible.

Here's a simplified summary from Japanese user @manganouA (x) :

Just a clarification that "Hachinosu" and "Pirate Island", "Wang Zhi" and "Ochoku" are used interchangeably.

A common interpretational agreement is that Law definitely got onboard the wrong ship, and very likely the ship wasn't even going to Hachinosu. Artur's translation was incorrect, Law didn't board the smuggling ship. Pew's team updated their translation with Artur's version, even though their initial interpretation was right.

Law gained information that a smuggling ship heading to Hachinosu used a specific Kingdom's flag as their cover, and mistakenly hopped onboard a REAL ship belonging to that Kingdom- full of passengers and the King himself. The level of catastrophic clumsiness you'd expect from Luffy...

Man scratch that. it was clumsy even for Luffy's standard 😔

Another point to note, the term used to describe Law-Koby-BB combo was "共闘する形", so a combative pact is more appropriate than an alliance (同盟) - which was used for Law's pact with Luffy, and later Kidd (vs Big Mom). Nothing unexpected though.

My entire timeline is people cracking jokes about Law's blunder so I'm cherry picking a few of them.

Law: Crap, I blew it up... This is the wrong ship isn't it? (Cora ghost: Gee, Law... you're also the clumsy type aren't you?)

Zen (@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO) (x). (x)

Blackbeard arrives on luxurious Saber of Xebec, Koby arrives on a naval ship, and Trafalgar Law is somehow on a passenger's ship.

No matter how big of a mistake I make in future, I might be able to console myself thinking, "well, even Law kun got on a wrong ship."

Koby: Misunderstanding? What do you mean? No matter how you look at it, it's an act of terrorism against a Kingdom!

Law: How annoying... I'm in a state of confusion myself! I've no time to deal with the marines.

I got onboard a wrong ship!!!

Koby (after having Alvida flashback): I see. What a disaster, my heart goes out to you. Let's call it a temporary truce and defeat Ochoku first.

Law: You're convinced?!

.

My favorite has to be this low - effort comic summarizing their understanding:

"Rocky Port spinoff" was another buzzing keyword last night, I hope Shueisha is taking notes.

[strawberriesandhotmen]

Shameless

a/n: Hello my lovelies. This scenario has been hiding in the back rooms for some time, so I thought I’d go ahead and get it out there. It’s a little shorter, but a beauty if I do say so myself. 

pairing: CEO!Billy Russo x fem!secretary!reader

CW +18 smut: swearing, tension, hickeys, oral (f!receiving)

word count: 2.5k

“Mr. Russo is not available right now, I’ll have him get back to you.” You sighed as you hung up the phone; that was their third call today. Couldn’t people take a hint? Your boss had been stressed beyond belief in recent days, and you, being the fantastic secretary you are, had been doing everything in your power to be sure he remained unbothered. This task had, however, proven harder than anticipated.

Your boss was a very attractive man; quite the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Those dark eyes of his rendered you unquestioningly obedient, yet not to a fault. You never failed to set him straight if you thought he was acting too rashly, and he always managed to complain about it. It was a strange relationship between the two of you.

“I need to see you in my office.” The sudden buzz of the intercom startled you, but you ignored the racing of your heart to tend to Mr. Russo’s needs. After all, that is what you’re paid for. Upon standing, you smoothed out your black pencil skirt and fixed the collar of your white button up, the click-clacking of your stilettos echoing around the marbled office building. With a quick knock, you entered Mr. Russo’s office, closing the door behind you.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” His head laid in his hands, lifting to face you only when you spoke. A heavy sigh escaped him, and he gestured to the chair opposite his own. You sat, rather hesitant internally, crossing your ankles and waiting for instructions.

“I need you to remind me of my meeting schedule for the day.” ‘Please’ was a word you had never heard the man utter, so you had come to stop expecting it. You didn’t mind, really, it was understandable to a point.

“Only one meeting today, sir, with the president of that prospective merger you’ve been considering.” He muttered a string of curses under his breath, clearly not looking forward to that appointment.

“Time?” Your eyes flickered to your lap as the answer appeared in your head.

“Fifteen minutes, sir.” He closed his eyes, seeming to be swallowing back a scolding. You hadn’t actually done anything wrong; in fact, you had reminded him of the meeting just yesterday, but you should’ve anticipated his anxious forgetfulness. “Shall I let you know when he arrives?” He merely nodded, leaving the room in silence once again. You took this as your cue to leave, making your way back to your desk once again.

After letting Mr. Russo know that the president of that merger had arrived, you decided to take your lunch break. Since the couch you ate at was sat quite close to Mr. Russo’s office, you could practically hear their whole conversation (not that the legal jargon was making much sense). It was only when you noticed your boss’s tone turning more agitated that you decided to step in.

With a swift knock, you cracked open the door and stuck your head in.

“Mr. Russo, sir, you’re needed upstairs.” He wasn’t needed, of course, but you thought a break might be helpful. You sensed a flash of relief behind his agitation, but he maintained his previously apparent expression for the benefit and ignorance of the merger president.

“Excuse me, John.” He muttered lowly, sliding on his suit jacket as he made his way to the elevator. You decided to do something to…relieve his tension, and followed behind him. Mr. Russo furrowed his brow in confusion as the doors slid shut and he saw you standing beside him; yep, definitely caught him off guard with this one.

“Don’t you have work to do, Miss-” You shook your head, interrupting his assumption. It wasn’t entirely incorrect, but it was an assumption.

“I’m on break, sir.” You clarified politely, subtly batting your lashes as you peered up at him. Billy’s eyes flickered over your face, taking in your appearance. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to you, you were beautiful. But he tried his best not to show it, keeping his facial expression stoic.

“Ah, I see.”  He said simply, looking away from you and focusing on the elevator doors in front of them. The elevator began to move, the silence in the small space between you palpable. Billy remained painfully aware of your presence beside him.

“You seem stressed, sir.” You stepped closer, speaking in a quiet tone in an attempt to relax and soothe his anxiousness. It seemed to do the opposite, however, as Billy’s eyes widened slightly as you stepped closer, his gaze involuntarily sweeping down your figure. He took in the sight of your skirt and button up, the outfit hugging your curves perfectly. Despite his best efforts to remain indifferent, he couldn’t help the way his heart thumped slightly faster in his chest. He cleared his throat and looked away, his mind racing. 

“I’m fine.” In his attempt to sound casual, his voice wavered, betraying the facade he displayed to everyone else.

“Are you sure, Mr. Russo?” You prodded gently, placing a manicured hand on his forearm. The feeling of your hand on his arm sent sparks through his body. Your touch was intoxicating, it was driving him insane. He took a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact. He tried to keep his voice steady, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. 

“I said I’m fine.” He repeated, his tone a bit brusque. You pulled your hand away, momentarily questioning your original goal. The absence of your touch was like a jolt to his system. He missed the warmth of your hand on his arm. Despite his better judgement, he found himself wanting to pull you back towards him, to feel your touch again. But he resisted the urge, keeping his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know.” You pointed out, sharply breaking the tense silence. Billy closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He knew you were right, he shouldn't be pretending. But he had always been good at putting up a front, and he had never been good at letting people in. He opened his eyes again and looked at you, his expression softer than before. 

“I’m just…tired. I’ve been working non-stop and I feel like I’m about to snap.” He admitted softly. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, letting his head fall back against the cool surface. He was exhausted. He had been pushing himself too hard, trying to juggle everything on his own. But he was so used to doing things alone, he didn’t know how to ask for help. Luckily, you could think of just the thing.

“Maybe you need to do something to...relax you.” You took a step toward him, fluttering your lashes again. You would get him this time. Billy raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your suggestion despite himself. He was well aware of the innuendo behind your words, and he surprisingly didn’t mind it.

“And what exactly do you suggest?” He asked, an uncharacteristic and playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I am on break, sir…” I began, matching his expression. Billy’s smirk grew as he looked you up and down, taking in the sight of you in your short, tight skirt. He was getting more and more tempted by the second. He knew he should resist, it would be highly unprofessional. But he found it increasingly difficult to care about that fact.

“I suppose you are…” He said, his voice lowering to a huskier tone. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you. He was so close that you could feel his minty breath on your face as he let his gaze wander over your figure, taking in every curve and contour. He brought a hand up to your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles against your waist. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“You know, the elevator is currently stuck between floors.” He whispered, reaching back to push the ‘stop’ button as his fingers traced the edge of your skirt. You merely hummed in response, enjoying this.

“How unfortunate for us.” Yeah, very unfortunate. Billy chuckled softly, the raspy sound sending a wave of heat straight to your core. He brought his lips to your neck, peppering light kisses along your skin.

“What ever shall we do to pass the time?” He teased, his hand slowly trailing up your thigh.

“It seems to me like you have a few ideas, Mr. Russo.” You tilted your head to the side, granting him better access as you continued the arbitrary banter. Billy smirked against your neck, kissing his way up to your jawline. He brought up his other hand, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to look at him.

“Oh, I have plenty of ideas, darling.” He said with a low growl, his eyes darkening further with desire. Billy's gaze shifted even more as he took in the sight of you, your sultry look driving him wild. He couldn’t resist you any longer. With one swift move, he scooped you up into his arms and pressed you against the wall of the elevator, his lean body pinning you in place. He buried his face in your neck, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing up your skirt and exposing more of your skin.

As his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. His hands continued to explore your body, roaming over every inch of you. He cupped your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pressed himself closer to you. He could feel your breath hitch, which only fueled his desire even more.

“God, you’re stunning.” He murmured against your skin, his hands moving up to unbutton your blouse. You hummed, biting your lip as you assisted him in the removal of your top, leaving you in a white lacy bra. Kissing his neck, you rolled your hips into his, his prominent bulge poking into your hip. A low growl escaped him at the feel of you grinding against him, his lips returning to your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. He moved his hands back to the hem of your skirt, gathering up the material in his hands and tugging it up higher.

“You’re a lovely fucking woman, darling.” He rasped out, his voice gruff. You let out a gasp as he kneeled before you, the look in his eyes feral as he tugged the skirt above your hips. Now, the wet puddle between your legs would be quite clear to him. He tsked once or twice, rather feignedly condescendingly, shaking his head.

“Oh, love, you’ve ruined these already. They’ll have to go.” He didn’t wait for a response before virtually ripping off your poor panties, tossing them behind him somewhere. Cursing under his breath, he tugged your legs apart and began placing wet kisses along your inner thighs. You let out a deep sigh of contentment, threading your fingers through his hair and grasping onto it for stability. Without another word, Billy brought his mouth to your dripping center, his lips gently placing a kiss there. A low, appreciative moan left his lips before he looked back up at you.

“Fuck, princess, you taste divine.” He breathed against your throbbing pussy, his tongue slipping out to lick a long stripe up through your folds. A whimper of his name left your lips at the sensation, and your hold on his hair tightened. A strand of his perfectly gelled locks had fallen over his forehead, making him look impossibly more heavenly. 

He groaned against you as the taste of you hit his tongue, his head moving back and forth as he tried to get more of you. His hands gripped tighter at your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue worked to bring you ever closer to that edge, that high. You were almost to the point of dripping onto the floor, which would be quite embarrassing, but you found yourself not caring in the slightest as Billy continued to work you over with his expert tongue.

He took his time with you, not rushing in his actions. He wanted to take all the time in the world to savor you as best he could, his tongue and lips working to memorize every sensitive spot, figuring out what made you gasp and what made you moan. His hands gripped and caressed every inch of bare skin he could reach as his tongue fucked you mercilessly, shamelessly. A rather desperate-sounding groan left his lips, vibrating against your quivering folds as you felt another drop of cum leak out of your hole.

“Billy, m’close.” You moaned, fighting to keep your knees from buckling as the knot in your stomach grew with each lap of his tongue. The lewd sounds of Billy making out with your sopping cunt filled the small, confined space, drawing you that much closer to the edge. He didn’t even bother to respond with words, merely speeding up his actions, displaying how desperate he was to have your cum fill his mouth. His nose bumped your clit every so often, and when you decided you wanted more, you let your own hand travel downward to place small circles over the swollen bud. When Billy noticed this, he drew your hand away and replaced it with his own, demonstrating just how much better he was at this than you. You couldn’t contain your moans now, whimpering and gasping incessantly as you came to your peak.

“B-Billy, m’cumming, m’cumming…” You cried out, although you were sure he knew with the way his ministrations increased in urgency. He groaned lowly as your cum poured out of you, grasping your thighs tightly to keep you supported. Lapping up every last drop of your arousal, he gingerly worked you through your high, standing only when your breath slowed.

“You did so well f’me, princess.” He mumbled against your neck, placing a kiss or two down the side. “So fuckin’ pretty when you come.” You breathed deeply as you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling softly as you looked into his eyes appreciatively.

“That was quite shameless of you, you know that?” You smirked as you teased him, absently dragging your nails along the nape of his neck. He snorted out an amused chuckle, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to your temple.“

What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

[pocketramblr]

Please!

AU where both Izuku and Bakugou are rejected from UA Hero Course.

And to make it juicy. The reason for the rejections is the suicide baiting incident being known by UA. While Bakugou is rejected for obvious reasons. Izuku is rejected for his ‘own safety’ and because they won’t trust his psyche went unscathed.

1- The thing about Bakugou is that he was not particularly well liked by his classmates at Aldera. Oh, he had friends, and no one was willing to stand up to him, but plenty of students had grudges about how he acted. They rolled their eyes when Bakugou went on a rant about being the only one who could make it to UA, or his lackeys hyped him up, but then they'd look away without a word when he caught them and glared. No one was going to say he wasn't powerful and couldn't do it, just like they weren't going to say Deku had any chance. Sometimes, capable people are also very annoying, and you just have to deal with that, so the kids did. And if a few were in a small group chat that would sneak pictures or videos to show the kids not in their class and complain, well, that's what the kids did. And then one day, one filmed the conversation after school, after Bakugou threw out the notebook, and posted it publicly, as well as in the chat.

2- nothing came of this. Izuku had either blocked or been blocked by a lot of his classmates online, and hadn't really bothered to look for most of them anyway, so neither he nor Bakugou are aware of the video. The sludge villain sort of happened an hour later, and that's what got the big media buzz- the news couldn't publish the names of the teens involved if they ever even had them, but locally, people at Aldera knew who the kids on tv were.

3- the next year, UA has its recommendation exams. Every student is meticulously background checked before even being accepted as an potential for the exam and interview. A couple weeks later, they have the standard exam. The background checks will happen after this- UA after all has a very prestigious image. Bakugou wasn't wrong that if he took his lackey's cigarette and UA found out, his chances would be gone. Unfortunately for him, the video was still online. Mostly forgotten about... Until it contained not one but two potential UA students.

4- Nedzu and the six hero course homeroom teachers are on the board of student admissions, but so are two others each from administration, public relations, the school board, and the heroics commission. The top fifty scorers are ruthlessly picked through. The video is watched. Some want to exclude Izuku, some Bakugou, some both. Nedzu would prefer to have them both enrolled in separate classes, but is outvoted. He doesn't warn the board this will mean All Might will not be staying on to teach - he really can't, without telling secrets, but he does warn All Might the next night, and gracefully accepts his resignation.

5- a week after the exams, acceptance and rejection letters are sent. These are simply written on paper. Apparently neither of them are a good fit for the school. No further reason is given. Bakugou spends one day in his room, quieter than ever, then rush applies to other schools. Shiketsu is supposed to be UA's equal. Perhaps their admissions process will be less rigid. Or perhaps his rise to number one is "supposed" to come from humble starts, and Aldera Middle School wasn't that, but some mid rank hero school is. Meanwhile, on the beach, All Might tells Izuku that he actually ended up with the most rescue points in the exam, and his score was high enough to place him in top ten... It was just the screenings afterwards that did it. Perhaps the school was concerned about his health, with him breaking nearly every limb. Or perhaps his incorrect quirk registration was a red flag- either way, it's things All Might blames himself for, Izuku is the one who passed the test, and with only a few hours of having OfA too. So All Might asks Izuku what he wants to do- try for another hero school nearby? Toshinori probably can't get a job there on short notice without being suspicious, but he'll work to train him every day after, and come up with some other excuse for why he's in the field less. Or, should he reach out to I-island? Toshinori's even willing to see about setting up a personal internship with himself or Gran Torino, though he really kinda hopes Izuku doesn't pick that one. Izuku bursts into tears and apologies, having only held them back this long out of shame, they hug, and Toshi tells Izuku to take his time deciding, it'll be all right, because Izuku is here and he has full faith in him, regardless of what UA admissions thinks.

[mistywaves98]

More nerd dom scara and bully reader pls... I love it sm 😍😍😍

✧･ﾟ:* ->Nerd! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Drabble-ish, Super short, Sub! Reader, Use of Vibrators, Small bit of bondage, Orgasm denial!

You had been getting on Scaramouche's nerves lately. It was like you were failing classes on purpose! If you even went to them in the first place. He spent hours tutoring you, only for the information to apparently go in one ear and out the other. So he decided to change things up a bit the next time he came over to your house.

"...So what's the answer, [Name]? This is one of the easier questions, you know. So focus," That bastard, how could he expect you to focus when you have a vibrator shoved up your pussy and a second one attached to your clit? Both of annoyingly low settings too. Not to mention the fact your wrists are bound behind your back so you can't touch anything, "Scara, this is s-stupid.. How am I supposed to think when—" "Wrong. Try again" A harsh smack to your ass makes you jolt on his lap, squirming.

"...what was the question again..?" Scaramouche repeated the question, but you hardly registered the words as all your mind could think about was cumming. He asks you for the answer once more, one hand holding the textbook and the other gripping your hip to keep you still. You try to rack your brain for a response, but nothing comes up, so you just blurt out the first thing you think of,"the answer is...seven?"

Another smack, making you yelp as Scaramouche glares at you,"Incorrect again. You were so far off. The answer is 423.69." If you could think straight you'd have probably made a remark about how ridiculous that was, but your mind became muddled as the intensity of the vibrators suddenly increased sharply. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, thighs clamping shut as the buzzing gets louder.

Scaramouche stared at you writhing on his lap, internally enjoying this little game he had you playing. It had been a good hour or so of this scenario, he asks you a question, you get it wrong, he turns up the vibrator only to lower the setting at the last minute. Your whimpers were music to his ears as your face scrunched up in pleasure from the vibrations.

Your breathing got heavier, brows knitting together as you felt your impending orgasm. However, just before you could cum, Scaramouche switches the vibrators back to low. He smiles as your expression becomes disappointed,"Did you really think I'd let you cum yet? You're not cumming until you get at least one of these questions right." The sheer look of dread that washed over you almost made him laugh. Of course he knew as well as you did that you're not going to be able to learn anything tonight.

[mytaegiheart]

Lady in Red

Pairing: BTS x Female Reader Genre: crack, domestic crack & fluff Note: Based off of this incorrect BTS crack quote from @7ndipity. This immediately popped into my head after I read it and I just started laughing hysterically. I'm sorry, Hobi!

Snow White and Her Seven Dorks

Hobi: is anyone home right now?

Jimin: still in practice for another hour, sorry.

Jin: I'm going over some distribution things for my alcohol. I'll be a bit yet.

Namjoon: at the studio with JK and Yoongi. One of our tracks deleted itself so we're in a re-do.

Hobi: Tae?

Tae: still visiting my parents. Sorry.

Y/n: I'll be home in about 15 minutes. Why?

Hobi: it's okay. It can wait till you get here.

Y/n: you sure?

Hobi: yep!

Y/n: okay, see you soon.

Since it didn't seem like anything was wrong, you took your time getting home from work, making a stop at the local chicken restaurant you liked to frequent to pick up dinner for everyone.

The guard at the front gate smiled at you in recognition as he buzzed you through, passing you the collected mail for the day. Parking your car in your designated spot in the garage, you grabbed everything up and headed inside.

“I'm home!” you called out as you sorted through the mail before dropping it on the small table inside the door. You slipped out of your shoes and coat before making your way through your home. “Hobi?”

“In the kitchen!” you heard him call back.

“I picked up dinner. Figured that Jin or Yoongi wouldn't want to cook after working all day.” you smiled, stepping into the kitchen. “How was your-” you paused when you saw him standing on top of the kitchen counter. “-day?”

“Hi?” he grinned.

“Why... are you on the counter? Jin's going to kill you if he sees that.”

“Um... why wouldn't I be?” he asked back. “I live here too. I can stand wherever I want, thank you very much. I'm not scared of Jin.”

You stared at him for a good long minute, making him fidget, before sighing deeply.

“Where is it?”

“Under the table! Take care of it please?” he whined, crossing his arms and shuddering. Shaking your head, you got to your knees and slowly glanced around beneath your kitchen table, spotting the offender right away. You couldn't help but chuckle. You carefully reached out, scooping the offender up between your palms before climbing back to your feet.

“It's just a ladybug, Hobi!” you giggled, showing it to him. He made a screaming noise and started dancing away, nearly falling off the counter.

“Get it away! Get it away!” he shouted. Laughing you went to the kitchen door and let it loose in the tree outside before coming back in. You showed him your empty hands.

“All gone, come down from there before you hurt yourself.” you giggled, holding out your hand for him. He took your hand in his shaky one before jumping down. You pulled him into a hug, feeling his heart racing against your cheek. “Poor baby.” you giggled again.

“Not a baby.” he mumbled into your hair.

“Totally a baby.” you grinned, leaning back to kiss his cheek.

“Don't tell the guys? I will never hear the end of it.”

“I promise.” you giggled, linking your pinky with his. “Help me get dinner ready.”

“Okay.” he grinned, turning to get the bags you'd left on the kitchen table.

You didn't have the heart to tell him there was a ladybug on the back of his shirt...

-The End-

[prlssprfctn]

"Damian Wayne won't be medic, it is stupid and boring!!!!" (Incorrect buzz sound) WRONG. He was destined to be a doctor. Hope it helps.

[sigonya]

01:13AM - s. geto

cw. implied cheating (it isn’t)

notes. loser suguru who jumps to the wrong conclusions. super late birthday post, so here’s a silly very short unedited drabble (if there’s a bad typo please tell me so i can correct it)

geto suguru couldn’t sleep. he’d found messages on your phone – from another man. it was awful, he thought, hoping to god that he was wrong. there was no way you’d cheat on him, right? but who was this man? he knew all your friends, you were in the same group after all, and that certainly was not anyone he knew.

he really hadn’t meant to look through your phone, but the notification had popped up. hey, when are we meeting tomorrow? followed by an even worse you don’t want your boyfriend to know, right? that had really caught his attention. he just couldn’t help it, he picked up your phone and entered the passcode you had once told him.

it was incorrect. he tried again. and once more, his hands trembling before he dropped it on the couch when you walked in. the honey sweet smile that you often gave him felt sickening as you sat next to him again, carefully moving that phone away from him, face down and out of sight.

he rolled over onto his other side, fingers tracing circles on the sheets. there was no other way about it, you were cheating. but then again, it was you. he thought you wouldn’t cheat. never, not even in his nightmares.

he perked up as his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up. it was you: come over. i have something to tell you.

suguru felt his heart drop, rereading that text again and again. that was it. you two were over. on the bright side, it wasn’t a breakup text. it would be in person, right?

he didn’t notice the date on his phone, nor the time as he got up, slinging on a jumper. your apartment wasn’t far from his, you’d bought places purposefully close to one another so you’d cross paths in the mornings and when you came back, so you’d only have to walk up a few flights of stairs.

it took what felt like forever for him to reach your apartment, hands shaking as he knocked on your door.

he heard a man’s voice, then your giggle and he wanted to run. maybe he could call gojo, ask him to stay a couple of days, or shoko, nanami or haibara. one of them would agree, he was sure. the door opened before he could turn on his feel, your smiling face greeting him then—

“happy birthday!” he jumped as he heard a number of party poppers and horns blown, a grin on your face as you dragged him inside, him coming to a halt in front of a balloon arch. “suguru? oh my god, you look like you’re about to cry!” he stared at you, hair dishevelled, the previous day’s clothes on and his eyes teary. “was it that surprising? it’s your birthday.”

he stared, hands coming up to rest on your shoulders. “you’re not cheating on me?”

“what?” you screeched, eyes wide and a look of what could only be described as pure horror on your face.

“who— i saw someone on your phone, saying how you don’t want me to know they were coming over…” he trailed off as you stifled a laugh, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“suguru. that was my brother.”

[cozmicclockwork]

I really hate to sound like a radical centristTM. But both groups arguing over the cover for Sabrina Carpenter's newest album are wrong. It's not designed to be satire or to appeal to the "male gaze." It's designed to be SHOCKING, to be PROVACATIVE, "politically incorrect" even.

Conservatives hate it because it's kinky, liberals hate it because it's not feminist, both think it's "degrading to women." The album has just started its marketing cycle and already people will just not shut the fuck up about it. THIS is the desired result of that album cover.

It doesn't matter how much the people talking about the cover don't like it, in the label's eyes, everyone is generating free marketing buzz for it.

[mercy-love-joy]

Spoilers from the new Burning Spice Cookie trailer- sort of

Sooooooooo

How are we liking the trailer???? I am absolutely buzzing about it and I got these little pictures from the CRK Discord server

LOOK AT THIS

It's so smol, I almost don't feel threatened XD (I am aware this is for MyCookie but can you imagine if this is what GC has to *actually* fight? 😆

AND THIS BIG BOI

I absolutely love this design for the Avatar of Destruction!

Correct me if I'm getting my mythology incorrect but this is reminding me of the legend of Krishna and Vishnu, along with Kali. I believed the myths of Kali and Krishna might have been inspiration for this particular avatar but I could be wrong!

I just love this design. I'll have to redraw it when the game updates so I can get better references! Or search through Tumblr too.

[frankenkyle19]

Learning Your Lesson

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader word count: 5.1k

description/warnings: SMUT, handjob, oral (male and fem receiving), premature release, sub Peter Maximoff, dom reader, soft dom peter for like half a second, unprotected sex, begging, overstimulation, not proofread, probably many errors oh and also a nurse kink? Roleplay, idk Peter being Peter.

Peter was usually a well behaved (wrong) man. Didn’t get into lots of trouble (also wrong) and listened to authority (absolutely not)

All these things were incorrect. Peter was just about as polar opposite from these things as anyone could be. He was a mischievous man who got into lots of trouble and definitely did not listen to authority. 

And of course today was no different. The speedster had been getting on your nerves all day. He did everything he could to annoy you. Push you to your limits just because he could. You just rolled your eyes and tried your best to ignore him. Little did he know you very much had a plan to get back at him.

Peter seemed cocky and full of himself but it took one word or glance from you and he was a blubbering mess. When you first met him you figured he was confident in himself and his abilities to attract women, but you soon learned that was wrong. His faux confidence was still hot to you though. Knowing he at least tried his best.

You didn’t mind that he was sometimes shy or awkward. Didn’t mind that he was inexperienced or clumsy. He was yours and you loved him exactly for his dorky self.

He did like to test your limits though. Exactly as he was doing today, just poking fun at you and winding you up. He should have known better. If he would have taken five seconds to really consider it, he would have known it was a bad idea. That you’d get him back for it. You always did.

He’d bothered you in classes all day, tossing little paper balls at you and kicking your feet under the desk. He didn’t take his studies as seriously as you did, and it was obvious. He also had a hard time sitting still, his mind moving a million miles a minute, body buzzing with pent up energy. You’d almost feel bad if he wasn’t so insufferable at times.

He had a training session today with a few other x-men and left you to go up to your room and relax after your last class of the day. You made sure you didn’t have any work to do before you settled into your bed, letting out a sigh of relief. It was near silent in your room, the only sound was the faint hustle and bustle coming from somewhere downstairs and it was so peaceful that you almost dozed off. 

That’s when an idea came to your mind. Peter had been so annoying today. Absolutely insufferable and you’d had just about enough. Maybe it was time to put him in his place. Teach him a lesson. 

Sex with Peter was very versatile. A platter of different options laid out in front of you. Fast, Slow, Soft, Rough, Kinky, Vanilla. There were so many options and Peter was always down with any of them, his need for you never being satiated.

It had been quite a minute since you had teased Peter in bed. It proved to be difficult when his begging was so irresistible and you always gave in to him. Not today though. You were putting your foot down. He couldn’t keep getting away with his behavior and you needed to show him who he belonged to. And also… you really just wanted to fuck him.

You slipped off of your velvety covers and grabbed a box from under the bed, pulling out a plastic bag with clothing inside. You’d been hiding it from Peter for some time, too embarrassed to show him, worried what he might think. It was honestly surprising he hadn’t found it by now considering he was always snooping around. It

 was a skimpy little nurses outfit that you’d bought at some dingy sex shop at the edge of town. So classy, right? Psshh…

You and Peter hadn’t really ever roleplayed in bed before, but you wanted to try it at least once. The idea of acting as Peter’s nurse turned you on. You saw how he looked at the nurses whenever he got himself hurt and had to be patched up. How he glanced at their outfits with a longing behind his brown eyes. Of course he’d never act on this though. He was devoted completely to you.

Still, he couldn’t help how certain things made him feel. This little kink of his was something he wasn’t exactly eager to reveal, his past partners finding him odd or it ending up being a turnoff for them.

You slid the outfit out of the packaging and looked it over. It was actually decent quality and didn’t appear too cheesy. Thank goodness. 

It was a white one piece that barely covered your ass, along with stockings and a little hat. You swallowed hard as you held it up, examining it. Should you do this? 

Fuck it…

You slid off your shirt and bra, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. Peter would be back soon, so you had to make this quick. 

You slipped off the rest of your clothes, foregoing panties as to tease him even further as you slipped on the outfit. It fit snugly on your figure and you would feel a little insecure if you didn’t already know that Peter absolutely loved your curves and every part of you.

You smoothed it out and put on the stockings as well, bending down as your ass peeked out from the bottom of the outfit. And of course this was the very second Peter opened the door to your room. The mutant always had impeccable timing…

“Hey babe I’m done training for the day what do you want to d- HOLY SHIT” 

You froze, eyes wide as you looked up at him, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, an embarrassed blush rising to your cheeks from being caught right in the middle of getting dressed.

You hadn’t even decided if you really wanted to do this, but now it seemed too late. Peter had already seen you. In fact, he was still looking at you, ogling you from the open door.

“Peter the door is wide open! Get your ass in here!” You shouted, startling him out of his shock as he sped the door closed, now in front of you. His forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat most likely from training and he was wearing his signature outfit, goggles resting on the top of his head. 

He blinked a few times, looking over your figure, mouth hanging open as he fought for words.

“So uh- what’s this?” He managed to get out, suddenly seeming a bit shy and nervous. And that’s when you realized that…. Holy shit. He did like this. This was turning him on. 

You tried to brush off your embarrassment, swallowing hard as you collected yourself.

“Got it a while ago. You like what you see?” You asked, doing a little twirl for him, your ass on near full display.

Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Holy shit. Holy shit his girlfriend was so fucking hot and he was standing there frozen, completely mesmerized.

“You’re smokin’ baby. Holy shit- this all for me?”

“What makes you think I did this for you? You were bad today Peter.” You said, voice taking on a fuller, more authoritative tone. 

Peter furrowed his brows a bit, obviously trying to think back on what he done today, having already forgotten. Curse him and his awful memory.

“No I wasn’t- I- I was just bored. I just wanted your attention.” He said pathetically, taking a step closer to you, never once taking his eyes off of you, entranced by your beauty.

Instead of responding, you thought of something better to do. This was as good a time as any to play out Peter's little fantasy and see how it went.

“Hello sir, so what brings you to the doctors today?” You asked, standing up straight as you gave him a friendly but suggestive smile. 

Peter looked at you with absolute confusion for a good ten seconds before he seemed to catch on to what you were doing. He opened his mouth to speak, stumbling over his words.

“I- Uhm I- just needed an assessment. A quick checkup.” He managed to spit out, cheeks flushed crimson, a drastic difference from the silver strands of hair that fell in front of his eyes. 

“Okay, that sounds good. Go ahead and hop up onto the bed and I’ll get started with a few routine questions.” You tried to keep your composure and stay in character, but a giggle made it’s way up your throat.

Miraculously, you managed to swallow it back down, clearing your throat as you approached the bed, Peter having now laid back onto it, looking up at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Okay- first question-“ you were pulling all of this out of your ass, but he hadn’t laughed at you yet, so you obviously were doing something right. Or at least not doing something horribly wrong.

“Any problems getting or staying hard?” This did make you giggle just a bit as you looked away to cover your mouth. He definitely didn’t have any problems with that. Especially when he was with you.

Peter let out a little chuckle too and it was times like this that you were grateful to have such a good relationship that you could laugh and joke around like this.

“Nope. All normal down there ya know?” He grinned cheekily, glancing down at his crotch before looking back up at you “but I still think you should take a look. Just to make sure.” His eyes had gotten progressively darker as the conversation went on and you realized just how into this he actually was. But, knowing Peter, he’d be into almost anything.

“I was planning on doing so. Just part of standard procedure.” You cleared your throat and stood over him, looking across his body “you seem to be in good health. If you wouldn’t mind, could you please slip off your clothes for me really quick so I can get a good look at everything? Make sure it’s all good.” 

Peter sped his clothes off and laid back on the bed, now dressed in only his boxers. While you were going about this in a joking manner, Peter seemed to be taking this very seriously. Or… Well, at least as serious as he could be.

You let your hands caress his chest, fingers running over his nipples which had him already suppressing a whine.

“Your body appears to be in perfect condition, let’s just take a peek and see what we’ve got here.”

Your hands went to the waistband of his boxers and Peter’s breath caught in his throat.

You pulled them down as torturously slow as possible until they were down far enough for his already hard cock to pop out.

Peter groaned quietly, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the pillows, his hips jutting up off the bed. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, hard. 

“Please doc, think I’ve got a problem that I need you to fix.”

You stifled a giggle, wanting to correct him and tell him you were a nurse, not a doctor, but instead you nodded along to his words.

“You poor thing. Don’t worry, I’m here to help you.” You smiled softly and carefully wrapped your hand around his warm, velvety cock.

Peter cried out quietly, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he groaned. 

You tighten your grip, sliding your fingers across the tip of his cock, collecting the sticky liquid gathered there to help you jerk him off easier.

You let your thumb rest over the slit and gently rubbed the pad of your thumb against it.

Peter whimpered pathetically and tried to squirm away from the touch to the most sensitive part of his cock.

“Mngghhh please- too much! Please- fuck please be gentle baby, can only take so much.” He begged, eyes wide as he watched you, chest rising and falling. It may have been too much but he made no move to stop you. 

You let your thumb fall away as you continued to stroke over his length, enjoying the noises that slipped past his perfectly parted lips.

Peter’s hips moved of their own accord, thrusting up in time with your movements, setting a slow but comfortable pace.

You loved how he just melted. Completely submitted himself to you. Your roleplay soon just turned into your’s and Peter’s normal foreplay and such. 

Peter bucked his hips up into your touch and he bit his bottom lip between his teeth, his hair a mess and sticking to his forehead as he panted.

You leaned down as seductively as you could and pressed a feather light kiss to the tip of his cock. 

Peter propped himself up on his elbows to better see your actions, his cock twitching in anticipation for your soft, warm mouth.

You held the base of his cock steady with your hand as your tongue licked over him a few times, teasing him as much as you could, wanting to see just how desperate he could become.

Peter felt like he was going to die. Like actually perish. You were giving him so much but so little at the same time and he was overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time. Hell, he didn’t know how he felt! He just knew he wanted more. God please moreeee.

You let your lips rest on the head of his cock, watching with a smirk as he tried so hard to stay still and be good for you. Eventually your lips ever so slowly rolled down his length, coating him in a layer of your spit, getting him nice and slick.

Peter wasn’t really one to finish super fast. He had relatively decent stamina, but today was something else. He was so pent up that he barely managed to get an alarmed moan out before he was cumming, coating your mouth in his thick, white cum. A lot. Like a lot. 

You coughed in surprise, eyes widening as you worked to swallow it all, but inevitably you pulled off of him and spit into the small trash can by the end of the bed. 

It wasn’t that he tasted bad. It was just so much and it was so thick that there was no way you would be able to swallow it all without choking. That’d be an embarrassing way to die. Death by cum.

Peter’s cheeks were flushed red in embarrassment as he avoided your eyes, too embarrassed to even glance in your direction. How embarrassing. 

“You poor thing…” You chuckled, shaking your head as you looked him over. His breathing was beginning to go back to normal but the deep pink blush was spreading from his cheeks throughout his whole body, even his chest was red and it made you laugh a little once more.

“Feel that good? I mean I know you’re quicksilver but damn that was really fast. Even for you.” You teased, which caused a frustrated huff to leave the man’s lips as he shook his head.

Not completely done with him yet, you leaned down and placed your lips right next to his ear, whispering words that almost had him instantly hard again.

“I didn’t say you could cum. You’ve been a bad boy and I think you deserve to be punished” 

You weren’t a huge fan of punishing Peter, but he seemed to love it for some odd reason, which in turn made you enjoy it as well.

“I’m sorry baby- I just couldn’t help it- felt too good-“ he tried to reason with you as he writhed around on the sheets. Poor desperate boy. So needy for you.

“I know you were Peter, but that’s not an excuse. You’ve been getting on my nerves all day. All day long Peter. Why can’t you just be good?” 

He whined softly and pouted his bottom lip dramatically, his goofiness still shining through despite the situation. It never really went away, did it?

“I am good. Just not right now. But overall I am good so like- my good outweighs my bad so I shouldn’t be getting punished right now realistically if you just think about it-“

You shut him up with a bruising kiss, your lips smashed together as you straddled him, already feeling his cock against your thigh. That was one thing about his powers that was useful in the bedroom. He grew hard once more much faster than other men. 

“Well Peter if you want to make it up to me maybe you should show me how sorry you are.” You grinned, tugging your already tiny outfit up your body to fully show off your lower half.

“How do you want me to do tha- Oh” Peter was practically drooling as he got the memo of what you meant. In an instant you were flipped onto your back with Peter scooting between your legs, his breath fanning against your dripping cunt.

“Peterrrrr-“ you whined quietly, not wanting him to tease you. He’d done enough to you today. 

“Aww what baby? Look at you, so cute like this all spread out for me” Peter said with a smirk.

He was always like this. Trying to take control of the situation. For now you’d let him, but when you were ready, it only took a look or a subtle touch to gain back the control.

You gasped as you felt Peter’s teeth nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, taking it between his teeth before licking over the bite mark he’d made. You’d think he was an animal or something with the way he was always biting you in one way or another. He always told you it was his special way of showing his affection towards you.

You laid under him a bit impatiently as he took his sweet old time. You hated that he could be as slow as he wanted when it came to your pleasure but always wanted things fast fast fast when it came to his own.

Finally, he leaned closer to your cunt, breath hot and almost ticklish as his dark eyes darted back up to yours, unblinking as he let his tongue lick a stripe up your core.

You shivered, a moan already falling from your mouth. His tongue was always so hot and so soft. It was heaven. 

He hummed at your reaction, letting his tongue dip a bit further into your folds this time, collecting the arousal that awaited him.

He had a very specific way of eating you out. He’d start with slow, teasing licks and kisses, leaving you on edge before he began to absolutely devour you, making it as messy as he possibly could. 

He let his fingers come up to spread you apart, revealing your perfect little bud to him. He leaned closer and pressed a gentle kiss to it, causing you to shiver.

He seemed to sense your impatience, and considering he was supposed to be making up for his bad behavior, decided he’d teased you enough.

He began to eat you out like there was no tomorrow, the sound of his wet lips connecting with your pussy filling the room. Thankfully the walls were pretty thick so hopefully no one would hear what was taking place.

Then, Peter did the one thing that drove you absolutely insane. He began to vibrate his tongue against your core, causing a spike of pleasure to shoot through your body, making all of your limbs feel like jelly.

Peter had a very strict rule that you weren’t allowed to have any vibrators. Well, it wasn’t really a strict rule, because he didn’t make rules for you to follow, but it was more unspoken if anything. Why did you need a vibrator when you had him? A literal human vibrator.

“F-fuck P-Peterrrr” you moaned, hands coming down and tugging at his strands of silver hair. You groaned in frustration as his goggles got in the way a bit and you just snatched them off his head and tossed them onto the floor before your hands came back to grip onto his hair.

Peter was thoroughly enjoying himself, letting his tongue vibrate against your clit for several moments before he delved back into your folds, his nose bumping your clit whenever his tongue wasn’t. He was sloppy and making an absolute mess, but that’s what he seemed to like and you couldn’t complain when he was making you feel as good as he was. You’d just deal with the mess later.

“I’m close-“ you choked out, tugging harder on his hair which made him wince a bit, but he didn’t make any move to stop you. 

You were wary in letting him know if you were close, waiting until the last second to tell him so hopefully he wouldn’t stop to try and tease you. You couldn’t take that right now.

And lucky for you, Peter seemed to sense that as he kept at it until he felt your release gush onto his tongue. He did his best to help clean you up while you caught your breath, leaning over you as he wiped his chin on the blankets before peeking up at you.

“Am I forgiven yet?” He asked with a cheeky grin. What a little devil.

You shook your head and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, smiling against them 

“Not yet. I have a few more things in mind.”

Peter raised a brow in curiosity, watching you to see what you could possibly have in mind.

You sensed his confusion from the quizzical look on his face so you decided to ease his confusion as well as his curiosity.

“I want you to fuck me, and you can cum whenever you want, but I also get to fuck you for as long as I want.” You said, grabbing the hem of the costume you wore and tossing it away, now completely bare in front of him.

Surely this couldn’t be too bad… I mean, it didn’t sound bad to Peter. It actually sounded really nice. He’d soon learn that while it was nice, it was also tortuous in a way. When he was begging for you to stop. To give him a break. When his cock ached with over sensitivity, pins and needles covering his body as he shook with the overwhelming amount of pleasure that bordered on pain.

He nodded shyly and crawled back on top of you, kissing at your shoulder before nipping the skin between his teeth, causing you to cry out.

“Peter!” You scolded, slapping his shoulder gently.

He removed his teeth from your shoulder and pouted a bit “whatttt I love you. It’s how I show my loveee” He frowned, shaking his head as if you had stopped him from doing his favorite thing in the world. In his mind, you kind of had.

“Just be gentle. I know you get excited but you can’t bite me like an animal.” You chuckled a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss 

“Now fuck me, Peter.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a shaky hand he positioned himself at your entrance, easily slipping in from your previous release.

A pleasured groan slipped from his lips as he let the both of you adjust for a moment.

His eyes were closed and his hair fell into his face a bit. He looked perfect like this. Your perfect boy. Always so sweet and despite how annoying he could also be, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

He didn’t want to embarrass himself by saying or showing that he already felt close, usually not this worked up, but you seemed to really be having an effect on him on this day. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, his pelvis hitting your clit perfectly with each thrust forward into your tight heat.

This was heaven. You could die happy right now with Peter buried deep inside you. 

Oh and another thing about Peter? Sometimes when he got excited or overwhelmed he couldn’t quite control his powers. It’d been something he’d always dealt with.

But this wasn’t a bad thing at all. In fact it was really fucking enjoyable in times like these.

Your mouth fell open as you felt a slight buzz, glancing up at Peter. The outline of his body was slightly blurred. He was buzzing. His body moved so fast from the pleasure that he couldn’t really stop it. He was also vibrating inside of you, his cock snug inside your warm walls vibrated ever so slightly, which added another element of pleasure. 

“Faster Peter. Please.” You begged, and Peter once more didn’t need you to repeat, hips slapping against yours as he pounded you into the bed harder and faster than before. 

You’d surely be sore and bruised in the morning, but it was well worth it for how good he was making you feel. Sex with Peter was always out of this world amazing and you weren’t sure if it was his mutant abilities or if it was just him. 

You pulled Peter down for another searing kiss, letting your tongue slip inside his mouth, exploring as far as you could as Peter just moaned against you, going lax as he let you do as you pleased with him.

You gently sucked at his bottom lip before nipping it between your teeth, reveling in the way he whined.

“I’m- close-“ he spoke again, already feeling another release building up inside him. You had said he could cum whenever he wanted, but he also knew the catch. That you would use him for as long as you wanted. He didn’t really see a problem with that.

“My sweet boy, come on, let go. It’s okay.” You cooed, your words causing Peter to hum in pleasure as he nodded, his thrusts becoming uneven and sloppy as he ruthlessly pounded your cunt.

You winced a bit as he sped up to near inhuman speed but you clung to his shoulders as you let him continue, knowing he was close.

He came with a quiet cry, stilling his hips as he came inside you. His body stopped buzzing and he didn’t seem as blurred anymore. 

Panting, he pulled himself out of you and laid next to you on the bed, chest rising and falling heavily as he peeked over at you.

Without warning you straddled his waist, plunging his cock back inside you. He knew you weren’t done with him but geez… he figured you’d at least give him a second to calm down-

He yelped in surprise and looked up at you with wide eyes, his cock twitching weakly. He was sensitive and it was bordering on pain as he watched your rise and fall on his length which was somehow miraculously still hard.

“O-ooookay then-“ he breathed out, propping himself up on his elbows as he bit his bottom lip, trying to adjust to the pressure to his sensitive cock. 

“Oh baby that so- that’s a lot-“ he mumbled, shaking his head as he tried to grab at your hips and get you to stop. Or at least slow down.

How ironic. The man faster than the speed of light was wanting you to go slow. 

You ignored his plea and continued at the pace you wanted, watching as he writhed under you.

“Mmmm baby I’m- Ah! Sensitive!” He laughed softly as he tried to get you to stop, the sensation too much.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead, brushing his silver hair out of his face so he could better see you.

“Make me finish and maybe I’ll think about giving you a break.” You whispered, Peter’s eyes wide. He did love a challenge after all.

He bucked his hips up against yours, nearly sending you flying off his lap with a surprised yelp leaving your parted lips.

With each thrust of his cock he hit your g spot every single time. He was an expert at this, having spent time memorizing your body. He knew it just as well, if not better than his own.

You gripped onto his shoulders and dug your nails in ever so slightly, leaving little crescent moon shaped divots in his pale skin.

Peter moaned out, a mix of pleasure and pain consuming him. He focused on your pleasure and trying to get you to your release, hips snapping up against yours with a filthy sound, wet skin slapping against wet skin.

You felt your core tightening as that all too familiar tingling began. A sign you were close. You clung harder to Peter, rolling your hips against his as you gasped, body bouncing on top of his.

Peter could watch you like this all day. Watching as you took your pleasure from him. From what he was able to do for you. It made the pain and sensitivity all worth it. Seeing you experience such pleasure was one of his favorite things in the world. Twinkies being another.

You dug your nails deeper into his soft skin as you fell over the edge, your walls squeezing his cock in a death grip as you stilled on top of him, body shaking from the pleasure.

The added pressure around his cock caused Peter to cry out. He came a third and hopefully for him final time with a pathetic groan slipping from his lips as he half heartedly bucked up into your heat that was milking him for all he had. 

Peter felt all fuzzy and lightheaded as he carefully tried to pick you up and remove you from his throbbing cock. He groaned quietly as his release spilled out from you as he moved you off of his dick.

He laid you down on the bed and snuggled up next to you, the only sound in the room was the heavy breathing that slowly began to subside.

“Peter, we’re a mess. We need to get cleaned up-“ you groaned, but Peter's arms just wrapped tighter around you as he huffed in annoyance.

“We can clean up in a little bit. Let me just hold you.” You wanted to argue. The sticky mess between your legs growing a bit uncomfortable.

“Peter, you have to let me up. I need to pee. Do you want me to get an infection?” 

This seemed to finally get through to him as he reluctantly lessened his grip on you just enough for you to wriggle away from him and out of bed.

You glanced at him, all sprawled out, still buck ass naked as he looked up at you with the most annoying, shit eating grin ever.

“Oh shut up, don’t look at me like that. Get yourself cleaned up you weirdo.”

[agentoffangirling]

Reason #4719 I hate AI, bc wtf is this

In case you don't get it, this is the AI overview for the plot of "Toy Story 2", and while the plot itself is relatively fine, look at the people it credits for the characters

Ash Brannon as Woody (who we all know is actually Tom Hanks) and John Lasseter as Buzz Lightyear (really Tim Allen). Lasseter and Brannon both did work on the movie, they were big parts of it, but they DID NOT voice these two

Now before you go "omg this is so minor, who cares?" SHUSH. BC THIS SHOWS A WAY BIGGER PROBLEM WITH AI

We all know at this point that AI is farrrr from accurate and routinely gives incorrect information, and this just continues to show it. If it's getting just the cast of Toy Story 2 wrong, who's to say it's not doing the same with other things? The stuff you search up and don't dig into can risk you getting a fail on your paper. Of getting fired from your job. And in some severe cases, be the very difference between life and death

AI is not your savior. Stop using it

[bbunnyyy]

Coconut Pudding.

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader slight E2L >:))))))

A/N: Not proofread. I apologise for any incoherent sentences/ incorrect grammar. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did :)

☁︎ Reader and Shinsou meeting through Aizawa. Aizawa offering reader extra training. ☁︎

Shinsou always rubbed you the wrong way- the both of you snarkily taunting the other every breathing moment you were in each other's presence. It was almost like one of you would bite off the other's head the next instant. Aizawa and Yamada were low-key scared you guys would kill each other one day.

Hitoshi Shinsou. That name was enough to have anger surging through your veins. Everything about him ticked you off- his sarcastic remarks, his cold expression, his stupidity. Each sparring session was tense, Shinsou desperate to prove himself to Eraserhead and get into 1A and you fighting to prove yourself, to prove you deserved your spot in 1A. You and Shinsou got to know each other better whether you liked it or not- you were spending most of your free time with him.

The closer you got, the more time you spent in his presence, the more obvious it was- his bitter and cold demeanour was just an exterior. He was a small fluffy hamster at heart. The distance between you and him that felt like oceans between shores closed before you realised it. Closed by lingering touches and lingering gazes during training. Closed by the softness that seeped into the other's gaze when thinking of the next time you'd meet. In conclusion, He made your heart pound and your cheeks heat up.

Just why?

You asked yourself. Shinsou would be a bitter gourd if someone like you was pudding. You poked your tongue out at the thought, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you walked out the diner all alone. There was a chill in the breeze that made people walk faster than usual, wanting to get back to the warmth of their own homes. Couples were walking hand in hand and kids clung to their parents as the buzz of chatter emptied into silence as they walked past.

You thought about how nice it would be if Shinsou was nicer to you for once. How nice it would be if you could spend time alone with him, How nice it would be if he harboured the same feelings as you did for him, How nice it would be if he liked you- How nice it would be if his love was like Coconut Pudding- sweet. Not overly so. Just right. The kind that makes you melt. The kind that feels refreshing. Oh, how you wished he were with you at this very moment.

☀︎

You tucked your hair behind your ear [sorry to bald readers/ readers without ears] while standing up to leave. The school bell rang five minutes ago, the last of your classmates already gone- eager to get home after the hell of what they called a curriculum UA put them through. Sighing, you started packing your bag. You were late for training. Even thinking about how exhausting training would be was enough to bring tears to your eyes. Looking down at the last few books you needed to stuff into your bag, you thought of Shinsou.

You thought about how you could feel the waves of heat coming off him when he stood closer to you as he helped you with algebra. You thought about how his uniform smelled when it was freshly washed. You thought of how the bruised, red knuckles on his hands looked as he grabbed your hands to lead the way when you were being too slow. You thought of the soft monsoon breeze that slightly ruffled his hair, How his purple eyes looked when he was surprised- like when Sensei kicked him in the stomach which led him to be winded and on his knees hunched over for the next ten minutes.

Sharp snaps brought you back from your melancholic state. Annoyed, you looked at the source of the disturbance. "Earth to Y/N." Shinsou said, now snapping his fingers in your face. Swatting his hand away, you rolled your eyes.

"Piss off." You groaned. "You look like Uraraka's quirk sent you floating all the way to Jupiter. Whatcha thinkin' about?" Shinsou said, now leaning on the desk behind him. His arms flexed as he rested his weight on the wood behind him. "None of your business. If you're dying to know, information costs money. I do miss those macarons from the bakery down that street..." Putting a finger on your chin, you pondered exaggeratedly. Shinsou hummed, "You're late to training." "Right." Inhaling sharply, you looked down at your bag, which was still unpacked. "I'm joking, I'm joking. Sensei cancelled training today. Said something about sorting out legal stuff 'bout Eri."

Before you could get another word out, what Shinsou said next had you staring at him like he had not two, not three but twelve heads. "Now what is it with you and your love for exploring space while staring at someone? If you don't fancy the idea, you can just say so." Shinsou stated, his gaze lowering to the floor but his voice as monotonous as ever. You shook your head, wiping that silly lil expression off your face. "Pff, like I'd say no to free macarons." It was Shinsou's turn to ogle at you- "I didn't say I was paying, I asked you if you could give me company at the cafe if you didn't have any plans."

Shaking your head, you put your hands up. "It's a shame, then. I guess I have no choice but to go home," You pouted. Wordlessly picking up your bag and stuffing the remaining books inside, Shinsou pulled the bag from your hands and slung your bag over his shoulder while walking. You smiled at him happily at his compliance and pulled him out the classroom by his elbow.

Ah, if only you hadn't missed the blush on his face as you walked through the door of the classroom.