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#I still role play
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Yes I'm still on Tumbler
Yes I'm still on Tumbler this is January 1/19/24 When posting this. Sorry if I'm not always on but never be afraid to send me messages or comment on my posts. and feel free to catch me over on Deviant Art if your ever loking for me ^^ https://www.deviantart.com/reaverpan Feel free to ask me to return back with you to Tumbler too. Especialy those who fancy me ;3 hehe
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ruporas · 9 days
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trigunned the hades or hadesed the trigun (id in alt)
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ammonitetheseaserpent · 7 months
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Something something abt how a clown’s whole thing is to make themselves the butt of the joke and take everything thrown at them while a jester’s whole thing is to freely call out & ridicule the king however they choose something something…
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dogrocks · 8 months
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an au where dovewing trains in the dark forest instead of ivypool....
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comfortless · 2 months
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would König ever agree to be a sugar baby? 🤔 most people write him as the rich one in the relationship so I'm curious if the dynamic can be reversed
you’re calling to my weakness of König being taken care of for once here…!! cue König being the absolute worst sugar baby that has ever existed (lovebombing!). implied age gap (König is maybe 24-26 here, reader is anything above), porn mention, masturbation, slightly suggestive but mostly fluff. minors do not interact.
Begrudgingly, a younger König probably would.
He isn’t sure how these relationships even work. There’s plenty of money in his bank accounts, he’s got a decent enough apartment, a car, (some) clothes that aren’t riddled with holes or tears... Hell, there isn’t even really anything that he wants. His curiosity only begins to spike the second his thumb stops its scrolling, lands on a picture of her, and his world comes to a grinding halt.
The woman in the photo is the most gorgeous, sweet creature he has ever lain eyes upon. Just the image of her smiling softly at the camera, her hands placed in her lap whilst she’s seated on a couch is enough to send his heart hammering. She doesn’t look the part of some vapid, cruel thing he had anticipated on a site like this. No, the woman only looks gentle, her eyes are even a little sad… She's all alone, her bed is cold, and König is already hard at the thought of how this could go if he had just a little luck in his corner.
He makes the decision to message her without thinking. It’s late, she probably wouldn’t even see it until morning, and he doubts a woman this cute would want to bother with him anyway.
A polite, articulate: hey do you wanna fuck
Followed by: you don’t even have to pay me XD
He settles for pulling up some porn video with the faces just out of frame, jacks off to the hypothetical of it being she and him one day and falls asleep with his phone on his chest and come stains in his boxers.
There’s nothing about him that’s deserving of this woman’s time nor her response, but he wakes to the chiming of his phone and a sweet message from her anyway. One in which she asks him if he would like to meet for drinks so that they can talk, she clarifies that she will pay, and even tells him that she thinks he’s handsome.
Handsome. Something only his oma had called him when she patted him on the cheek as a boy.
His response is insistent, demanding almost, when he suggests that she come to him, meet immediately that same day. Who cares if it’s only afternoon by the time she arrives, he could go for a beer and a sweet, tight pussy at any hour, doesn’t hold himself back from telling her this either while he grins at his phone like he’s possessed - all teeth and wild eyes.
There’s a part of him that believes this woman will be scared off, stand him up entirely and block his account, but to his surprise, she does actually show up. She’s there before even he arrives, seated in a booth at the back of the bar with his order and her own placed neatly on the table in front of her.
His chest feels too tight when he places himself across from her, all cockiness diminished in light of something he hasn’t felt since he was two feet shorter and more than a decade younger.
He’s fucking petrified.
His to-be-sugar-mommy eases him with her softspoken voice, going over the less than rigid terms of their agreement and praising his looks as well as his ability to handle his alcohol.
She isn’t asking for sex, just someone to care for. She tells him that he’s beautiful, while he feels like a smear on the pavement in comparison to her. And fuck. He isn’t handling his alcohol well at all, he’s just nervous and needs to keep his hands and his mouth busy, because all he wants to do is bend this adorable woman who compares his ugly face to that of an archangel’s over this table and fuck her like a stallion, spit such filth into her hair that no amount of repentance could ever make her feel clean again.
He can’t. He can’t when she suggests in that same cooing voice that she take him shopping for boots that are less scuffed, offers her hand to him as though it’s natural for a lady so ethereal to tether herself to a beast. Her hand is so dainty and cold, whereas he feels like a boiler on the cusp of bursting the second their fingers slot between one another.
His head is a mess of thoughts, memories of being dragged by the collar to attend services with his oma where he never prayed. Shit, maybe he should start, because surely he has someone or something to thank for this, for her.
Their first date becomes the strangest ordeal of his life as she seats him on a bench and helps him to try on boots as though he were only a boy who didn’t yet know how to tie his laces. She even kneels before him and ties them up herself before placing his foot back on the store’s floor; doesn’t even comment on the obvious hole in his sock or the awkward, longing way that he’s staring at her, only presses her chin to his knee and smiles up at him with so much affection he thinks he might actually pass out for a moment. She buys the ones he likes, three pairs of them, and doesn’t even bat an eye at the price.
That’s when he decides it’s all too much: he tells her that he can buy his own stuff, that he doesn’t need her to do it or tie his shoelaces or anything because he’s a man, after all. He should be showering her in flowers and soft dresses, paying for her nails and hair dye.
His lady only laughs and asks if he wants to come home with her, he doesn’t have to stay, just sit with her for a bit. So… he follows her home like a sulking shadow, hovering just behind her lost entirely in his head. He had barked at her like a rabid dog and she still brings him back to her place, strokes her thumb against the back of his hand, offers him little smiles of assurance when he goes completely silent.
He wants to hate it, wants to tell her something dirty and toss a stack of cash her way when she opens her door for him. Instead, he finds his head in her lap while she pets his face, running the tips of her fingers over every scar.
Her compliments are the most ridiculous, beautiful things that he’s ever heard, ranging from outright calling him her angel to telling him that he’s charming, that the scars are pretty… He loves every second spent with her like this, with each soft brush of her fingers as they pet the top of his head down to his neck, the way she hums some pleasing song to him when she massages at his shoulder.
He’s never been pampered or coddled like this before, and it feels good. The boner threatening to tear its way out of his pants isn’t something he’s proud of this time; he only wants this sweet little fairy to feel as comfortable as she’s making him.
Maybe he could do that if she let him pull up her skirt and make love to her: he could be gentle if he tried, play with her hair and her clit while he slowly spears her open until she’s pliant and panting, take it slow until she comes around his cock and her pussy calls him to utterly defile it as well as the rest of her. There wouldn’t be a part of her left untouched.
When she asks to be held instead, he swears he’s getting all of that and then some: she puts herself right in his lap, her chest to his and her legs parted just enough to straddle his hips. Her head tips forward against his shoulder as his fingers dance across her back, squeezing at her hips before smoothing back up her sides. She’s so soft… the most pleasing thing he’s ever touched, smoother than gunmetal and the flat of a blade. The way she smells is even sweeter, like spiced tea and blooming flowers.
She doesn’t even slap him when he bucks upward against her pussy, grinds the throbbing bulge in his pants against the place that she’s warmest. No, she only kisses his cheek and tells him what a wonderful day she’s having, what a gentleman he is even if he knows that part is certainly a lie.
Her breasts are soft in his hands when he finds the courage to squish them, against his cheek when she guides his head down to her. She pets his hair, tells him how she’s always wanted to hold a man like this… that she’s been waiting for someone exactly like him for longer than she even knows.
She even laughs when she asks, “You think that I’m pathetic, don’t you?”
All thoughts of just getting a good fuck out of this woman die someplace beneath his skull. Who would ever even think to call someone so lovely and kind pathetic? He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything more than protecting her fragile little heart and letting her stroke at him like an overgrown kitten, not anymore.
“Nein… no…”
He swears he could almost see tears in her eyes when she shoots him a glance then. Appreciative, contented tears that he prays she won’t shed. He’s a man, he’s not going to cry, but… fuck, he might if she did right now. Everything feels so doughy and warm, cotton candy and summer rain when his grip around her tightens to pull her in even closer.
She wipes away those unshed tears as she nuzzles against his cheek, slowly rubs her nose there and leaves a trail of kisses up to his temple. His mind is devoid of anything but outright infatuation, some impromptu dedication. He would tell her right now he loved her and know wholeheartedly that he meant it, but love isn’t in the agreement.
His lady only just wants to give herself away for nothing in return, not for a dick to make her cry or his own money layering her pockets; she just wants to pretend he’s her own personal angel, bury him in all the love and gifts she’s never been able to give to anyone else.
He watches her when she falls asleep curled up in his arms, takes in the way she smiles even in dreaming when her soft breaths break up the quiet. He presses his mouth to hers until her eyelids flutter and her breath catches in her little throat. She wakes to the kiss and only reciprocates it with the same softness she’s displayed with every prior action.
Her lips part to take him in, and she doesn’t even moan when he laps into her mouth with a grunt. There’s no lust in this for her: only the most senseless adoration, all love and tenderness, the things he’s yet to properly learn.
She tastes like vanilla and honey, her tongue yields beneath his own… and finally he pulls himself away, staring into her eyes like he might find a treasure there, as if he wasn’t already convinced that every part of her wasn’t something divine and holy.
“Do you have any others?,” he asks, devoid of any trepidation.
There’s not a care in the world of how she might view him. He’s convinced, certain that whatever he’s feeling has to be mutual. There are butterflies fluttering like the gentlest tornado in the pits of his stomach, and just by the wounded look she gives him then he just knows she must feel them too.
“Only you.”
“Gut… gut.”
There’s another kiss, one that is initiated by the both of them and steals all breath from his lungs. It’s not her harboring tears this time, but him who feels the dull sting, separates from her and turns his head away to rub at his face. He knows that he’s the pathetic one now, burdened down with the thought that he’s head over heels for a woman for just treating him as if he deserves anything at all.
Damn her for the way she readily reaches for him to pull him back in, to kiss at the outer corner of his eye and tell him in such a quiet way that she knows… In just a day she’s noticed him more than anyone, given more than anyone.
When he guides her back towards his mouth with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, could he really be faulted for whispering a confession? “Ich bin in dich verliebt,” spoken nearly inaudibly before he shuts her up with his lips over hers.
There’s no need for an answer, he knows the agreement had nothing to do with love. She wouldn’t accept his money in turn, but maybe a heart would suffice. He promises he’ll send her letters each time he’s deployed between mashing his mouth against her own, swears he will come running back to her when those greedy kisses slip down to her jaw. This sweet dove only laughs and squirms in his lap, tells him she would love to see him any time before he shushes her again.
Shouldn’t sweet things like this know not to feed a stray?
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peachcott · 1 year
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[ aa ] reflecting / witnessed
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rikkivoid · 1 year
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a pawn twice over
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critter-covenant · 1 month
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Class is in session!
Idea inspired from this that I've been meaning to draw for the past few days
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hedgehog-moss · 8 months
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I bought a cushion for my fireside chair with a mouse from Beatrix Potter's Tailor of Gloucester and it's the best financial investment I've made in a while, I smile every time I see it
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sittinginsunflowers · 20 days
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I know we’ve been begging for a Murph DM season for years now and I would still kill to see it but idk man I think we’ve been dropping the ball. Something about Zac Oyama behind that screen looked right
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pedgito · 1 year
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#sometimes babygirl is a troubled DEA agent
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the-witchhunter · 7 months
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DP x DC: Homme Fatale
Noun. homme fatal (plural hommes fatals) An ultimately seductive and dangerous man; a womanizer.
On a bit of a Film Noir kick right now, so blame that
Imagine, if you will:
Danny, a private eye in Gotham, ever the hard boiled detective, sitting in his dark office, drinking coffee you could use to tar a roof. The office isn't in a good neighborhood but rent still ain't cheap. He's fixing to get a new case on his desk soon
Enter one Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprizes. He walked in shirt unbuttoned dangerously low in a suit sharp enough to cut yourself on and bags under his eyes to large to be counted as carry on. Mr. Drake has a job for him, one he wants to keep quite, and one important enough that he's willing to add a couple zeros to Danny's usual rate. This job is a dream come true... almost too good to be true...
or
Tim Drake aka Red Robin(yummm) needs plausible deniability on a case tied to his civilian identity and so hires a PI and lays down a trail of clues for him. All the while playing up the Noir tropes to flirt with the cute detective.
why doesn't he just take care of it as Red Robin? Shhhhh... the detective is cute and he's having too much fun playing the homme fatale
Bonus: Immediately after wrapping up Tim's case Kon walks into Danny's office dolled up in a vintage dress, period appropriate makeup done, all to play the part of the Femme Fatale and do the exact same thing Tim did. Does he know Tim literally just did that? Maybe, maybe not
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transformers synergized sneak peak
page 13, no context
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ganondoodle · 2 months
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(wip- OC)
felt like i needed to do one of my typical character (re)design things tm so i chose this lad who doesnt even have a name still, he will get his cool coat back dw uwu
idk if im making him more or less unique/interesting bc of how my OCs usually look these days ... he fits well to the other updated designs .. but maybe too well :/
(also not a demon but one of the ... animal/sea people like ki'ita, this lad isnt directly based on a specific one, just kinda ..tentacly)
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leoserblog · 11 months
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Ok this might be an unpopular opinion but someones gotta say it...
Cassandra is a better Casey Jones than Casey Jr
Ive gotta be honest... i think casey jr is a kinda mid and i dont particularly think all the fanfare about him is warranted LOL
I want to note real quick that i dont DISLIKE him! He is a good character who only got as much development that a 2 hour movie could give him, and he filled and satisfied the role he needed to play in the movie, but the way the fandom latched onto him over the og casey... kinda makes me raise a brow
(Essay/rant about the prioritization of casey jr vs og casey under the cut :P)
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Fandom spaces love a traumatized boy from the future, and believe me i do too! But the amount of attention given to casey jr after being revealed as casey is a wild amount compared to the amount of attention the original casey gets. Maybe its just me getting into rottmnt after the movie aired, but this seems a little baised?
Not only that, but the amount of... idk the best way i can think to describe it is infantilization of casey jrs character isnt helping my opinion of him. It feels like most content surrounding him babify him and reduce him only to his trauma post movie. I understand that it can be interesting to explore his trauma now that he no longer lives in the literal apocalypse, but it feels strange to see him reduced to someone who cant get around on his own and lives with the turtles when the original pitch for the movies ending has him leave to explore the world, which i feel is very appropriate for him and wish they had kept it in
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In the movie when april shows us where the og casey has been and what shes been doing throughout the film, it tells us that casey is friends april which in theory, shouldve also shown us that she and the turtles are friends to some degree as well and should already have her place established within the group as this generations casey jones
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However the final shot of the movie is a group shot of the family+casey jr, which subtlety implies that he's the new casey instead, and that this is the main cast moving forward (should it move forward *sob*). While both caseys being considered in the main cast could be true, it does strike me as a little odd that this was the final direction the rot team decided on for the official ending versus the scrapped ending, especially because it complicates the pre-established canon. It wouldve been one thing if our og casey was a different character, but that isnt the case.. y... (<_<)
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Casey jr is an interesting character though! And i can understand why he appeals to fans, especially as his character post movie is fun to expand on aswell as developing his past involved with future versions of the main5, but one (me lol) could argue that the og casey is just as interesting of a character to delve into as she was involved, when you boil it down, a cult most of her life, and that concept, as well as the guilt she could hold for working with the foot and releasing the shredder, ontop of trying to befriend and gain the turtles and aprils trust are also intriguing concepts that could be explored, yet finding content that mentions her at all beyond her relation to casey jr is scarce
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It feels as though shes been reduced to a background character within the fandom despite being a reoccuring character for the entire show.
For the two seasons of rottmnt that we did get, we are shown just what kind of character casey is and her possible dynamics with the turtles+april. Shes passionate and powerful and beyond determined to prove her worth and reach her goals. Shes also playful and reckless, a side that fits well with the main cast and their humor and, if the show was given more time, couldve developed naturally as the newest addition to the family as most caseys are. I could also argue that her characterization fits that of previous caseys more than casey jrs does (though i will admit that considering the plot of the movie, i cant positively say what hed be like outside of life or death scenarios, but i also cant imagine hes going to make a 180 in personality without it feeling jarring and ooc)
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Now, i wont ignore the fact that her arc was cut horribly short and her involvement in the movie was quite literally a brief mention, both of which definitely play into how under appreciated she is. But at the same time it almost feels like everyone, including the show runners, have willingly pushed her aside for this new boy version to fill the role of casey jones. Hell, even when you look up rottmnt casey jones, cassandra barely shows up. Its casey jr which further proves my point
Idk, TLDR im pretty disappointed that despite being a consistent character for the entire show, no one seems to write or acknowledge her and if she is mentioned, its only relevant to push forward casey jrs character development or a brief cameo. As much as i do love casey jr (i can feel like hes mid and i can like him!) it seems like most people forget about the original casey, or favor casey jr in her place and she deserves more love and credit than shes given!
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darthluffy · 9 months
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I have decided that Imogen is too gay to know what to do with her girlfriend. She’s the dog that caught the car and now doesn’t know what to do next
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