#Water hates being drawn and I hate drawing it

[thivell]

WOO MERMAY BABY!

We have a pirate/sailor Obi Wan, who quite frequently is pushed, shoved, or forced into very large bodies of water

And Cody is a shark mer (Hybrid between a chain catshark and a tiger shark) who is very tired and concerned that he or his podmates have had to save this man many many times. (At least he's pretty)

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[ervotica]

the ones we love (will destroy us)

pairing; aegon ii targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

tags; twincest (lol i'm sorry yk what the targaryens are like), aegon is so sad and babygirl and an idiot, hurt/comfort

note; heavily reworked repost of an old fic that i adored writing but needed a lot of editing! (i still lowkey hate it tho)

“Why is Aegon staring at you?” Aemond asks, a cruel smirk cracking his perpetually stoic facade; the's mocking in the way his gaze falls between you and Aegon, not entirely genuine as he takes amusement in his older brother’s miserable pining. Aegon watches your discussion with Aemond, sour faced from across the dining table. You’ve taken it upon yourself to sit as far away from him as you can manage; and where you’re usually attached at the hip - though he knows you’re arguing - he can’t deny the ache in his chest from your lack of acknowledgement. You're cold, unflinching as you stare right through him as though he's irrelevant, as though he's worth nothing to you.

“Because he’s a twat,” you answer bluntly. Aemond barks out a short laugh, coarse and harsh, that penetrates the quiet chatter of the room. Heads start to turn towards your avid conversing with your younger brother.

“What are you two bickering about now?”

“If he thinks it’s funny to to speak ill of me to everyone in the seven fucking kingdoms, I don't want anything to do with him.” Your lips purse as you cross your arms; Alicent eyes you, watching the tick of your jaw and flare of your nostrils - you’re upset, even if you’re excellent at masking it. 

Aemond watches on amusedly as your twin grows increasingly agitated the more you pointedly avoid his glances. Your mother frowns.

“Y/n, don’t you feel you’re perhaps being a little hard on Aegon?” 

“No.”

“He's your twin brother!” she sighs, ever frustrated by your stubbornness and your twin’s lack of consideration for anybody’s feelings, even yours at times.

“He’s still a twat.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes. 

You continue to only speak about him indirectly. When you turn to Jace, he grins.

“Jace,” you start, clasping your hands where they lay on the dining table in front of you, “If someone said that you were ‘an ugly whore with no friends’ - as he so eloquently put it - would you be upset?”

“He said that?” Jace's jaw falls slack. “Wait, no. He honestly said that about you?”

The table clatters, cutlery bouncing, and Aegon stands abruptly, face screwed up in that way it does when he’s about to cry.

“It wasn’t like that!”

“How else could you possibly have meant it?” You’re incredulous, covering your misery with spiteful words. You want to make him hurt, make him feel your pain, but run to him for comfort all at once.

“Not-”

“Gods, just be quiet,” you mutter. Your face is hot as you turn away and you feel your eyes prickling with the threat of an onslaught of tears. Aegon cringes, drawn tight and tense as though you share one body, as though he can feel the pain he’s putting you through. Your upset has always caused him real physical distress, from when you were tiny children and still to this day. Your voice lowers to a whisper. “You’re so mean.”

“Y/n-“

You’ve never seen him quite this distressed; his cheeks flush pink and ruddy and his eyes start to water and gloss over, not dissimilar to your own expression - though you’re much better at concealing your emotions. His nostrils flare the way they only do when he cries: the way they did when he sobbed in your arms for hours after your mother rejected his pleas for affection once again, the way he cried when you were ten years old and your father interrupted him every time he tried to speak. Your bottom lip trembles. 

“Please,” he croaks. Your brows knit and crease your forehead as your chest tightens; you bite the inside of your cheek with such force that you draw blood. 

You stand and the solid wooden dining chair thumps against the floor. Aegon mirrors your movements, rushing towards the exit in your wake.

Once you’ve left the presence of your family, the tears come hard and fast and unrelenting. They’re hot against your cheeks, damp as your hands shake to scrub them away, leaving only a tender sting and blooming heat in your touch’s wake.

“Please talk to me.” The door creaks shut and then Aegon’s voice cuts through the sounds of your sniffles; you spin on your heel and he surges towards you in a bout of energy, clasping one of your hands in both of his larger ones. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, it was mean. And you should be angry with me. I miss you and I love you and I'll never, ever speak a cruel word against you again.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask; he lurches to latch himself to your body, anxious as though you’ll push him away at any given moment. His arms are tight and unmoving around your waist.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently, “I don't know why I said it. I just wanted the others to respect me but shouldn’t have said such awful things. The only person I need is you.”

“What?”

“I don’t care about any of that now. None of it matters to me if you’re not by my side.” 

His body shudders when your arms close and tighten around his body and a sob looses from his throat. Your voice is thick as you murmur in his ear. 

“You hurt my feelings.” 

His head falls to the dip of your shoulder and he clings to you with a strength that you’re not unfamiliar with; it cracks your heart all the same.

“Please forgive me, sweetling. Please.” The velvet of your dress darkens in splotches where his tears fall. “I love you.”

You know he really is remorseful; the guilt eats at him until he can’t feel anything else, not until you’ve reconciled. He's always been the same, ever since you were six and he hit you in the face; you didn’t speak to him for four days and he cried with such vigour that he made himself sick.

“I love you,” you can’t help but whisper back. “But if you ever do something like that again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

He laughs wetly, an odd sound that gets caught in his chest as he presses further into your embrace. 

“Can I have a kiss?”

You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his damp face towards your own. His lips fill with air and push out into a pout. 

His muscles go soft and relax the second your lips mesh with his; your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He angles his head and deepens the kiss, licks into your mouth and murmurs something imperceptible. When you pull yourself away, he chases you, desperate to be close. 

“Love you,” he mumbles, plying you with damp, open mouthed kisses across your cheeks and neck. They leave glistening half moons in his wake. “I‘m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, tucking your head in the hollow of his throat. “I forgive you, alright?”

A laboured breath forces its way out of his lungs when your arm wraps around his neck for a hug.

“I didn't like you sitting next to Aemond,” he sighs. You shush him, rubbing thumbs over his eyebrows and down his cheeks in unbridled affection. “I want you to sit next to me.”

“I always sit next to you,” you murmur. “I was upset, remember?”

“I know,” he whines. “but you’re mine.”

“Don’t be a baby,” you giggle. “I spend all of my time with you.”

He squeezes you tight then and buries his face in your hair. You grunt with the force of his weight.

“I missed you.”

[theplumsoldier]

sore loser

summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"

pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.

Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.

It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.

You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.

Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.

"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.

"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.

The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"

"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.

Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.

"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."

Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"

His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.

With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.

Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.

There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.

You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.

"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.

"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."

Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.

The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.

Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"

The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.

"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"

"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.

"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"

You hated how he was always right.

Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.

"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.

Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."

There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.

You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.

You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.

"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."

He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."

"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."

"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."

This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.

You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"

Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.

Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.

His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.

"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"

Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.

Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.

He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.

Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.

He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.

Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.

"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.

With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.

The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.

"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"

His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."

Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"

That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.

"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.

He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.

"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.

A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.

"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”

You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.

He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.

"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"

"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"

He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.

"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"

He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.

"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.

You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.

Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.

Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.

Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.

Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.

Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.

A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."

Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.

He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.

You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.

A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.

Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.

You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.

A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.

There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.

Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.

You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.

There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.

"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."

The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.

Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.

"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.

It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.

It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.

A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.

Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.

His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.

"Fuck—"

Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.

Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.

Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.

It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.

At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.

[lazywrites]

nsfw alphabet w/ Cyclops aka.Scott Summers

Scott Summers x afab reader/ Minors please don't interact/ NSFW so please be aware

If tumblr blasts me for the art (which is made by me as well) i will repost it without the drawing

A= Aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

Scott’s aftercare is top notch, on the right occasion of course, Scott is a busy man but when he takes the proper time to be with you, his undivided attention is a gift within itself.

If this is a quickie kind of situation Scott will make sure you are okay first of all, get your clothes in order and wipe the mess he’s made on both you and the random couch he’s chosen for the occasion and make sure you both are inconspicuous enough when its time to leave the room, provided your legs are steady enough to leave, maybe he’ll keep you company until then.

If this is a warm spring night where you are both alone in your own space, oh boy, he’ll go all out with his aftercare, expect a cool glass of water and some pleasant conversation until you are ready to hit the showers with him, but if you’re not careful it might all lead to you needing some more aftercare.

B= Body part (their favorite body part and also their partner's)

It would be cliché to say ‘’your eyes’’ but to Scott it  is important to look others in the eye, he is a leader and his perception on every person he meets matters more than anything else, he can assess a threat to his Family just by looking it in the eye. And your eyes, so full of honesty and genuine love for him, he knows you and he can tell how you feel just by looking you right in the eyes even for a moment. But on another note, Scott’s eye is Always drawn to your cleavage, big or small, toned or soft, he’s gonna glance at it even if its just a sliver of skin exposed in the area and he’s instantly drawn to it when its exposed,laying his head on the softest parts of you, kissing and marking up your breasts with small hickeys, nothing too excessive, he doesn’t want anybody else to pay attention to you like that.

On himself, well, Scott is built like a God, he makes sure to keep up with a strict regime and stay in top shape always, it is important to his protection as well as your own. But i’d say he is very pleased with his shoulders, his intense training paid off, his shoulders are broad, Strong and dependable and you know it, and he knows that you know it, there is nothing better for him than having you on his lap, hands on his shoulders and nails lightly scratching them as you ride him. He enjoys being depended on enough but when you show your concern with him by rubbing the tension from his shoulders and back? He’ll be in cloud nine for a few moments, Scott has the weight of the world on his shoulders most of the time, but when you put your hands on him, he can’t bring himself to hate it at all.

C= Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

God, Scott can get messy with it, as clean and tidy as he wants to portray himself as, he is obsessed with your wetness and laps it up like his life depends on it, he’ll want to hear every wet noise he can produce from you before drinking it all up himself, as soon as he gets a chance he’ll dip his fingers into your underwear and drench his hand in your juices until its all damp enough that you’ll have to take it off for a while, that way you’ll just have to give him a taste.

Scott cums a lot on a normal day, if you haven’t done it more than once that day his orgasm is guaranteed to be long and satisfying, maybe it’ll help with the tension for a while until the next problem comes along. Takes a while to make Scott cum for the first time, but after that if you have enough time to tease him, he’ll be more sensitive to your touch and cum faster, but it all depends on you, quantity wise its plenty, thick and messy too, as messy as Scott will make it that is, he loves to get your body sticky with it, be it your chest, your face, or your underwear sticking to your thighs all day.

D= Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret or their's)

He’s very discreet with it, but you know him well enough to know, he’d love to have you at his mercy, cuffed or tied up so he can take as much pleasure as he wants from you for hours and hours, until your body is sticky and sore, eyes full of tears of pleasure. He never vocalizes his desires in an overt way but it is noticeable to you especially when he takes your wrists into his hand and pins them above your head, if you decide to allow it and just let it happen you’ll see the change, on his breathing, on his expression. Becoming just a little more desperate than it was before, on the way his hips smack forcefully into your own, harder and faster, and you know you got him, or maybe he’s got you.

Scott is sort of a voyeur, he loves to watch you and thinks about it constantly, to the point of riling himself up just thinking of it, the visage of you pleasuring yourself right in front of him, just for him to watch is burned into his mind and he goes back to that moment constantly. Scott is having a boring conversation? He’ll keep nodding and humming pretending that there is not a ghost of you right behind that person, looking right at him and teasing him like some hyper-realistic hallucination, he’ll do his best to contain it (or ‘’you’’) around any known telepaths though, he is trying to be discreet after all.

E= Experience ( how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

He does have plenty of experience, even while he was younger he’s been around, had a fair share of girls and some boys waiting for him, asking for dates and sending valentine presents, Scott is and has always been very popular, even with non mutants. But he won’t just get with anyone of course, he’s taken his time to intimately know every person he’s been with and they have friendly relationships to this very day, as messy as his relationships can get they have taught him a lot about intimacy and trust, and all his experience is put to good use between both of you.

F= Favorite position (No visuals this time, sorry, tumblr will probably kick me for the visual right above anyway)

Good old Missionary and we all expected it, might be cliché but its common for a reason, and as much as he loves to try all he can think of with you, Scott can get all the benefits from this position he could possibly want, he can plant both his hands on your knees and spread you as wide as you can go just to look at the mess you have both made, as well as go back and forth between watching your blissed out expression and his thick cum leaking out of you, and tease you for it with his little smirk, of course.

In second place is a mating press, the intimacy of it, being pressed up tight against your softness, face to face so he can know how much the pressure of his body on yours is affecting you and hearing your desperate hums and moans while he presses up against your soft spots, all the way inside almost balls deep from the weight, there’s just something special about it to Scott, and he always promises himself to do it more often.

G= Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Scott is not very goofy in general, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a sense of humor, he is more charming than goofy though, he’d rather leave the comedy for later, but in compensation he will tease you, he’s good at getting a reaction out of his partners and enjoys a bit of banter before things heat up too much, that is, before you become completely incoherent.

H= Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is not very hairy in general, it would take him a lot of time to have a proper beard, Scott likes to keep himself clean and tidy all over, most of his body is either clean shaved or has very sparse hair, and that results in a light and dusty happy trail with very well trimmed hairs.

He likes to think it makes it easier to dress up in his spandex suit, slides easier or whatever.

I= Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Scott is a gentleman most of the time, he is very considerate of you and your needs and makes sure that he won’t be selfish, not like that is much of a worry though, your pleasure is his own and he could get off just watching you enjoying yourself and having your orgasm.

He might not be declaring himself over and over but things always get romantic between both of you, even with his glasses on the way Scott loves to press himself against you, your forehead on his own face to face during sex, he also loves to rest his head on your chest and just enjoys the feeling of your body on his own so much he can hold you tight against him for hours, his favorite thing after he cums is just holding you to his chest and feeling your warmth, he’ll rarely say but his in these moments his heart also feels warmer than before.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’d rather not be apart from you if the option is available, but as i’ve mentioned your ‘’ghost’’ is always haunting him throughout the day and making him feel all sorts of dirty, he can keep his urges under control pretty well most of the time unless you are there to ruin his composure and leave him hanging, he’ll try to will away his erection to be able to at least wait until you’re back, but at some point it becomes obvious you’ve got him unravelling completely and he needs to get his body under control, he’ll just have to give in and make himself cum without you, shame.

If its a long mission taking you away from him or him from you he’ll try to focus on his duties as team leader to keep the ghosts away, the harder he Works that day the bigger the urge to see you becomes until he has to fish out that old picture you gifted him as a ‘’reminder’’ not to stop thinking of you no matter where he is, he knows what you want him to do with it and he tries not to, checking around the blackbird for the thousandth time and trying to strike up some innocent convos with his team, but the picture, its just calling out to him, one peek won’t hurt, right?

K= Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Scott won’t outright tell you what his kinks are, even if you ask he’ll say he never really stopped to think about it, but its very well established he has a thing for bondage, not hardcore bondage, but Scott loves to be trusted and thrives with admiration, knowing that you trust him completely with your body does Wonders for his ego inside and outside the bedroom. He’ll be very pleased to receive a package only to check and see the beautiful red ropes and blindfold, your way to invite him for a night out, just the two of you.

Like all heroes Scott can appreciate a good spandex suit, spandex and leather are his go to if you asked him about it, the skimpier on you the better, and if you are creative enough to whip up a Cyclops cosplay borrowing one of his glasses and some blue and yellow lingerie you found on some themed sex shop he’ll be very very curious about it, and concerned, concerned enough to throughly check if your uniform is up to code...

You cannot convince me there aren’t superhero themed sex shops.

L= Location (favourite places to do the do)

Scott has a mostly pristine reputation, and he worries about it, as much as he loves to fantasize about fucking you in every place you are both together he knows its impossible with anyone else around and there are plenty of people around the manor most of the time, sadly the only place he can guarantee you are alone is the bedroom and a few sparse rooms here and there in specific times of the day, Scott takes all the precautions he can, locking the door every time things get heated between him and you, he would be absolutely mortified to be caught.

M= Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

For Scott, having sex is a good way to unwind and be close to you at the same time, one thing facilitating the other, you are his comfort most days when things get hard, you’re always there for him providing support and he will take you everywhere he goes if possible. And you know Scott Summers is a man ready to take responsibility all the time, he is a trusted leader and people look for him every time there is a problem and for mutants most days there are problems, he’s always in action, so every time you can both relax and take comfort is each other is very beneficial to him.

After a long day, he can feel the effect your body has on him, the good it does to him, and it makes him a little emotional that you always know how to support him and be there for him, sometimes even a bit of a heartache, he might feel as if he’s not doing the same for you, but of course you’ll be there by his side always to reassure him that your heart belongs to him just as much as his to you, you’ll both struggle together to pull each other up.

N= No (something they wouldn’t do)

He won’t take off his glasses or blindfold around you and refuses to degrade you, he’s seen enough degradation for a lifetime and doesn’t want it to be with you, never you.

Scott is fine with light spanking, but of course will never hurt you or bruise you, he’d be absolutely mortified if you got hurt enough to bleed in any way, he just wouldn’t enjoy sex in that kind of way and would be constantly worried.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Scott will eat you up like a man starved, he’s sloppy with it too as much as he denies it he likes to get messy with your pussy and you better be ready for it, every time he pulls the same old move of feeling you up under your underwear and getting his fingers coated in you he’s absolutely going to taste you on his own hands once he’s done, sticking out his tongue and licking his fingers like they’re a lollipop, putting on an unintentional show, and most of the time, of course its not enough and he needs more of you straight from the source, kneeling before you, on the bed or you sitting on his face, either way he’s getting what he wants without complaints, Scott’s tongue seems to have a life of its own in those times, he’ll move it like he’s truly thirsty for you, taking a few moments in between to kiss and lick at your clit, enjoying the softness and making out with you in a way you didn’t think it was previously possible.

You, of course, need to return the favor in kind, and as much as he likes to pretend to resist and say its not needed, his resistance is futile and he’ll fold almost immediately, laying back or sitting in bed or in a couch he’ll let you lick and suck at him as much as you want, depending on the ocasion you will see Scott Summers fully relaxed for a moment, and its beautiful, those are the times where he pretends there is nothing wrong in the world, nothing to worry about and simply enjoys the pleasure you give him, he’ll try to contain his groans and moans as much as he can but soon his focus will be pulled from that too. Scott’s inner thighs are surprisingly sensitive, you found, and of course you leave plenty of marks on his beautiful thighs, dangerously close to his balls, he won’t be in the state of mind to complain anyway.

He knows you can get shy, but he loves to see you take his cock in your throat or kissing and licking at his tip, he’ll sneakily stop throwing his head back to look at you when he thinks you’re distracted.

P= Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Scott can keep it very steady during sex, impressively consistent too, but thats just his unwavering sense of discipline and with some effort his pace will change up depending on what you do or say, if you tease him and get him desperate his thrusts will be noticeably faster and more sloppy, but if he’s teasing you he’ll go slow and you and try to get you desperate for it, desperate enough to beg him and stroke his ego a little bit, just how he likes it.

But of course you can change things up and take him by surprise, he’ll be impressed if you decide to be on top and will take time to worship your body and just observe you, he’ll run his hands up and down all over you and when his hands are not enough to satiate his needs he’ll worship you with gentle kisses and licks all over your throat and chest. Some days when he’s pent up he might decide to take you a bit more forcefully than usual, holding you tight so you can barely move and moving his hips with a force that leaves you rattled by the end of it, he’ll try and apologize but there is nothing wrong with a little roughing up sometimes, you’ll say.

Q= Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often)

You’d think a man so busy would not have much time for quickies, but Scott is surprisingly easy to entice, and you know his ticks, its child’s play to you.

If you tease him a little bit through the morning, just a little, enough for the team not to say anything, even that will get him a little overwhelmed and you can take pride in knowing thoughts of you will be tormenting him throught the day, that familiar ghost is back to haunt him even when you’re not there. You can meet back with him on the afternoon and a just a little light quip from you will be enough to break his resolve, he’ll find an excuse for the others and call you to a room he knows is empty at the time just so he can say he’ll give you what you want (its what he wants really,we all know it) but he can play shy all he wants, you know what you did and you won’t regret it in the slightest.

R= Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks)

He’s not much for risk, i’m sorry to inform, his life is basically pure adrenaline and he likes to feel safe with you as much as possible, not to say he won’t try any kinks you suggest, he’s open to new things as long as they’re not dangerous or painful for either of you and will do his best to satisfy you while keeping you safe.

S= Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Depends on what he’s been doing before honestly, Scott is always up and running its no wonder his energy is limited, but he’ll always have one or two rounds in for you, he would absolutely refuse to leave you unsatisfied, but these one or two rounds are pretty amazing and more than enough for you, of course. On better days where he’s rested he can go pretty much all night long with you, there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend the whole night worshipping and being worshipped by his love.

T= Toy (do they own toys? do they use them?)

Scott doesn’t own any toys himself, well you can gift him that rope and blindfold but they don’t really count as toys, Mr.Summers is too serious and important (embarrassed) to be seen in some downtown sex shop or ordering toys online, so i’m sorry, that task will fall to you and you don’t mind much, the sex shops are fun but he will make you keep your new toys hidden or locked up in a drawer, he’s scared of anyone finding them for some reason, honey its okay, no one’s looking.

He’s open to using them on you and watching you use the toys on yourself, perhaps you can even convince him to let you use them on himself, he’ll deny a bit but you already know you can easily convince him, just put on a little show and he won’t resist.

U= Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Scott doesn’t tease much, he’d rather see your blissed out face for as long as he can but that doesn’t mean he’ll never tease you, but those instances are rare and honestly that just turns you on ever more, you understand his innuendos pretty quickly and it’ll work even better with you if its in public, the fact that he went out of his way just to tease you in public, being who he is, is enough to have you ready to go.

He’ll do a bit of verbal play during sex, mostly just fishing for compliments, he might just stop halfway, cock still inside of you and fish for a few compliments before getting back to railing you into the matress, this time with renewed motivation.

V= Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Scott is honestly not very loud, what he doesn’t have in volume he’ll unconsciously make up for in quantity, unless you’re not in an entirely safe place. He’ll groan and moan for you right in your ear, in the beginning he was embarrassed to do it, it was mostly involuntary at the time, but now? He knows you love it and he won’t deprive you from it unless you deprive him of your own pretty moans and goddamit does he sound good, raspy groans right from the back of his throat and light airy moans once in a while, its almost angelic to hear him like that, such a pretty song just for you.

W= Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Our mr.Summers is not very jealous, but he is pretty territorial over you, he’s not jealous in the classic sense and won’t think much of other people interacting with you, you two are a two in one deal and most people realize that, so if he realizes someone has a crush or is sweet on you he won’t do much about it nor say anything about it to you if you are not as observant as him, especially if your interactions with such a person are entirely innocent.

But if they’re not and such a person starts making more overt advances towards you, well, he just has to make himself known, he’ll be more affectionate in public, deliberately, sometimes even looking the person in the eye (not that they’d know, he’s always wearing glasses anyway ehh) which does not work, he won’t follow you like a puppy, but he will make it known for all others that he’s your guy, you get a bonus of more handholding, public affection and of course, more sex, he’s not doing it out in the open, but he’s noticeably more passionate with you, he’ll hold you tight against him and give you very noticeable hickeys that are somewhat difficult to hide, he’ll apologize a little after, so you won’t notice he’s doing it deliberately, so that person sees and knows he’s active with you, naughty naughty, but still is going to be embarrassed if anyone on his team comments or jokes about it, men are contradictory creatures.

X= X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Scott is a big man, as such i’d put him at a good 20 to almost 21 centimeters, about 7 inches in total, and that is pretty big in my book, it is the reason why he keeps a consistent pace and insists on being gentle with you, he’s bigger than average and knows that it can hurt if he's not careful.

But his cock is a thing of beauty in your eyes, circumsised , fairly thick and with an almost red rosy blush all around, soft balls that feel so good in your hand, almost like velvet really, it also leaks a fair bit of precum that you love to take in your mouth whenever you can, its heavy and always feels perfect for you, as you love to remind him once in a while.

Y= Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

The man yearns, he yearns for you when you are away, not even necessarily for sex, he just feels incomplete without his lover by his side where you belong, and of course you won’t leave him alone even in his thoughts, whenever he’s distracted there is a fair chance he’s thinking of you, of your beauty as well as your kindness and your pussy of course, but he yearns mostly for the connection you two share, he’s never bored with you, sex is more than just a stress relief it is a connection he shares with you and a way to feel the bond both of you share physically, thats what it is to him, the love you both share brings him bliss.

Z= ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Scott might be tired and a bit worn by the end of the day, but he can share a bit of conversation with you before sleep, if that is what you desire he’ll make an effort to keep his eyes open as long as he can and offer some semi coherent commentary once in a while, however, when you lay and cuddle up to him under the sheets, especially if you allow him to rest his head on the softness of your chest, he’s a goner, won’t last more than five minutes awake, but that’s okay because its cute.

i can't believe its over, took me about 15 hours of nonstop work for my first true writing post, depending on the feedback this might become a series, i have lots of ideas in mind especially for the art. So please let me know what you think, feedback is very important and i will remind everyone who reads requests are open with me, so yeah, thanks for reading!

[ididdedurmom]

More evil head cannons

I have silly ideas about the gang after the event of the story, everyone lives, except Bob

PONY:

Has a thousand yard stare when he zones out

Has the loudest, most disgusting, mucus filled cough ever

Actually really good at drawing

Has drawn every member of the gang at least twice

Loves physical touch, he leans on his friends when their sitting next to him.

Actually screams during horror movies, like loud genuine screams

Loves play fighting with Darry, like full on wrestling

Steve taught him how to drive

He either walks like a ghost or stomps, there is no in between

He can play one song on the guitar, and that’s it

His legs are super strong, so his kicks hurt really bad

He would be better at track, but his smoking habits hold him back

He feels jealous of Soda and Darry because they had more time with their parents

He and Darry have matching reading glasses

SODA:

He says “I’m just a girl” anytime he gets in trouble

He has used his pretty privilege to get out of being arrested multiple times

Despite how handsome he knows he is, he still feels super insecure about his looks

He steals from the DX station constantly

He and Steve spend hours gossiping about their customers once both of their shifts are over

A dog bit him when he was a kid, now he’s deathly afraid of them

He loves physical affection, hugging him is the best way to cheer him up

Absolute candy addict

Candy is the #1 item he steals from the DX

He broke his dominant hand once, and now his handwriting is permanently ruined

He reads insanely slow and monotone when he reads out loud

He either sleeps like a rock, or wakes up from the slightest sound, there is no in between

He lives in his flannel, that thing hasn’t been washed in literal years

He suffers from middle child syndrome, he knows his brothers love him, but they don’t pay enough attention to him

DARRY:

He hates his jobs, he knows he has to go but he can’t stand them

All of his coworkers are old and they treat him like a child (which he’s kind of okay with in a way)

He loves watching cartoons but he feels like he’d be wasting his time

He sneezes like a dad

He wakes up at 4 am and works out immediately

Loves compliments and words of affection

Doing favors is his love language

He has the whitest legs ever, he’s all tan on the top and snow white on the bottom

His tan ends where his pants start

Small bits of his hair are grey, he doesn’t know

He has a fear of abandonment

He is insanely flexible for a man of his size, like he can touch the floor standing up with ease

He hit a dog with his car once and cried for 2 hours straight

He loves cuddling on the couch with his brothers, it helps him relax

He despises Curly Shepard, he’s civil with Tim, but he HATES Curly

When he comes home from his ski trips with his old friends, he actually looks his age

A woman once assumed he was Pony’s father, and it made him die inside a little

He can’t stand Mother and Fathers Day

He was mad at Steve when he found out he taught Pony how to drive

TWO-BIT:

He and Dally bond by harassing women

He has a box full of things he’s stolen

His slight alcoholism stems from his father

He let’s his sister paint his nails, and he shows them off proudly

He gets his nails painted before rumbles

He watches soap operas with his mother every night

He can play the trumpet

He has never purchased a pack of cigarettes, only stolen

He listens to metal

When he passes Johnny’s house, he has to actively stop himself from walking in and beating Johnny’s parents half to death, especially his father

Its not that he doesn’t want a job, I mean he doesn’t, it’s that he thinks he’d only mess up whenever they had him do

He constantly forgets to brush his teeth

Pop and beer are the only things he drinks, he doesn’t touch water

He religiously wears Mickey Mouse merch, you will never catch him in a plain shirt

Baby Pony and him got along really well, he was kinda like Pony’s goofy cousin

Two-Bit and Darry have been friends since they were little kids

Two has no plans for his future, and it weighs on him

He broke both of his elbows once

His teachers have kinda given up on him, they just treat him like a bother instead of a student

STEVE:

He messes up Pony’s hair every chance he gets

He uses the most hair grease out of everyone

He has had the same comb for 3 years

He constantly smells like oil

The underside of his nails are always black, no matter how much he washes his hands

He and Soda have matching scars from a shared failed attempt to climb a barb wired fence

He is terrified of the police

He and Soda make your mom jokes at each other, despite neither of them having mothers

His voice is scarily deep when he wakes up

He and Two-Bit have an inside joke no one in the gang understands

He, Soda, and Two-Bit all have matching stick and poke tattoos

He hates his father, and by extension the fathers of Johnny and Two-Bit

He and Dally don’t hang out much, but when they do they are absolute menaces

Dally and him steal cars and hub caps together

He is genuinely upset by the size of his nose

JOHNNY:

He’s dyslexic

His handwriting is atrocious

His best subject is math

He and the gang all picked out stickers to put on his crutches

He loves sleeping around his friends

His hands are rough

He can’t stand the smell of beer, unless it’s one of the gang

He and Curly hate each other for literally no reason

Pony has slowly been teaching him to read better

No matter how much grease he puts in his hair, it won’t stay back

He hates going out in public because people always look at him funny

He hates looking at his burn scars

He, Dally, and Ponyboy watch sunsets together

He either sleeps at the Cutis’s house, Two-Bit’s house, Steve’s (very rarely), or Dallas’s place.

He’s not allowed to sleep in the lot anymore

He has tons of freckles, you just can’t see them against his skin

He loves sleeping outside when he wants to

He never wants children, he’s to scared he’ll become his father

His pain tolerance is so high that sometimes he won’t even notice when he gets injured

He likes how defensive Dallas is of him, makes him feel confident

He smokes marijuana with Dally sometimes, he’s super anxious when they do though because he doesn’t want to get arrested

DALLY:

He will not talk about his feelings

The cops forced him to go to therapy, it didn’t fix anything

He is amazing at lying

The police know him by name

He hasn’t told the gang much about the past other than where he came from and that he doesn’t talk to his folks

Darry nicknamed him “Rat”

He actually feels bad when Darry yells at him

He gets sun burns very quickly

He has his own personal stench

He doesn’t want Johnny to end up like him

He cried for 3 hours straight when he found out Johnny was still alive, it is his most embarrassing moment

He chugs drinks insanely fast

He can’t read very well

He needs glasses but he thinks he’d look like a wimp if he had any

Even though he knows he could have an asthma attack from coughing to hard, he still doesn’t carry his inhaler

He was happy when he thought he was going to die

Then he woke up and had an epiphany about life, it didn’t do to much, but now he knows death isn’t the only option

He proudly shows off the burn marks on his arm

He loves pushing Johnny around in his wheelchair

He listens to outlaw music and Frank Sinatra

He loves horror movies

He toned down his bad behavior once he got out of the hospital, he’s still a dick though

That’s it or whatever. I hope you like them, I’m sorry if some of them don’t make sense. I’m just so silly. I apologize for my horrible grammar lol. Feel free to tell me some of your head cannons!! :D

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 2.

Summary: Felix and Y/N's first year of university means being more open with how close they are, while perhaps growing a little more distant than Felix would like. Also the Catton family have bestowed Y/N their own title, which Felix hates, and Y/N and Farleigh have a moment of connection over Christmas.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader with Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh in this chapter. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: Smut (reader bottoming but their gender is not made explicit), Degrading language (reader is referred to as as dog & pet)

A/N: 3071 words. i definitely meant to get to the start of their second year/first run in with Oli..... but this chapter got long enough, so instead we'll meet Oliver at the start of the next chapter and instead we get Felix and Reader at university, best friends who hook up shenanigans, Venetia being a pot-stirrer because she likes to rile up her brother, and Farleigh and Y/N bonding and boning. i feel like the pacing is a bit strange so id love some feedback <3 ALSO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT UK COLLEGE CALANDERS IM SO SORRY LOL

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo

----

To absolutely no-ones surprise, least of all yours, Felix takes to the social aspects of college like a duck to water. Neither of you missed a single day or night of activities during first year orientation, and you both left the various pubs and bars with a different hook up each night.

Felix sees a poster for a band in town, and crows with laughter as he talks about how his mother would hate if he ever got a piercing, but you know the look in his eye too well, and tell him there's a piercing place a block away.

"God I miss Farleigh," you sigh with a smile, watching him size himself up in the mirror of the tattoo parlour where the piercer had drawn approximate dots to mark his soon-to-be eyebrow piercing.

"Oh he'd love this, wouldn't he?" Felix agrees, grinning from ear to ear, catching your gaze in the reflection. Despite the piercer's reassurance that it doesn't actually hurt that bad, Felix plays up the bit of being concerned, insisting that you hold his hand.

It's easier in this environment to be affectionate. Perhaps its the way that all nights liked to blur together, lips and teeth and tongues and hands, and you find yourself invited to parties and into bedrooms and Felix is in the crowd, pupils wide and drugs in his blood and knowing you can take care of yourself.

Fruit flies mistaking his light in the night for the rot they're used to.

That being said, while of course Felix is gorgeous and the life of the party, your own magnetic aura and love features draw in your own crowd of admirers; you proximity to Felix was merely a perk.

You yourself find yourself blooming at college; with a far stronger sense of identity than you'd had for most of your teenage years, you shed many of your adolescent insecurities and begin to embrace yourself and the people around you as more than just Felix's friends.

"I miss you," he teases, eyes shiny and pupils huge, looking at you with that look that made everyone else weak in the knees. The two of you are crammed too close in a booth at a club, everyone else having left to dance or find something interesting to snort in the bathrooms.

"I'm always around, Fi," you murmur, just as high, lips twisted into a bleary smile, your finger beneath his chin to lift his face to you.

"They love you here," he grinned, lips inches from yours, skin glowing with sweat from the adrenaline and high of the night, "knew they would," it's not especially jealous, more proud, and you sigh against his lips with the kind of warm contentment his praise always brings you.

"Don't care if they love me," you say, very tellingly, voice low and flirty. Anyone could see the two of you, but the unspoken rules of high school had fallen away; the rules of college seemed to prioritise a lack of judgement, especially with the people you surrounded yourself with. Felix giggles, flushing red, leaning into your touch, leaning even heavier against you in the little, otherwise empty booth.

"You miss me, Fi?" You prompt, letting his face go as you wrap an arm around him, drawing you in close to him. Despite his height, he folds himself up to lean into you. Felix giggles again, mostly to himself, clearly shitfaced, without answering, he angles his face up to press a kiss to your neck, "we see each other every day, we still fuck around, we -"

"Do you think I could live without you?" He asks suddenly, and surprisingly frankly. His chin is on your shoulder, eyes wide and demanding an answer. It's not a joke, nor some strange attempt at flirting, and your throat turns dry as the lights spin around you both.

"You're drunk," you tell him gently, "and high."

"Why would I ask that?" He frowns, suddenly, sitting up, as if he's talking more to himself than you, "that's a fucked question actually, sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have -"

"I think it's more about how you feel about it." You tell him gently, "we should get water. You sit here, I'll get it."

You're unsteady on your feet when you head to the bar, collecting two cups of water, almost overflowing, from the end, trying not to think about it all. It didn't matter either way, how he thought or felt about it. It was a foolish, drunken question, it doesn't matter. Right?

Except he's bopping back and forth in his seat, tapping the rhythm with surprising success on the table top, eyes shining in the light where all he seems to look at is you. Felix grin wide and bright, thanks already in his smile before the words reach his lips as you sit back down next to him.

You could live without him, but you know you'd never want to, so long as he'd want you around.

"Think I'd rather die than live without you," he says with little prompting, holding the cup with both hands as he downs half in a single gulp. What?

"What?"

He turns those perfect, brown eyes upon you like you don't already live your life in his shape, like he hadn't validated every choice you'd made since you'd met him. He smiles.

"You're my best mate, you're always good to me and help me with shit and never get mad at all the dumb ideas I have and you've made sure I haven't gotten kicked out of any schools, even if I probably deserved it," he rambles and takes another drink, this time choosing to look out at the nauseating crowd of haze and lights and bodies, "I love you, I don't think I could live without you."

"Is that why you miss me?" Your voice is barely audible above the music, but Felix still hears it. Putting his mostly empty cup on the table, he shoves his shoulder against yours, refusing to let up until his full weight is against you, the two of you toppling down in the booth, him draped over you wearing the absolute goofiest grin. It's a good reminder that you're both incredibly drunk.

"Just miss you."

You stumble out of the bar together, and back to the dorms. Felix is insistent that you stay with him.

"No funny business," he mumbles against your ear, breath hot and smirk in his voice, "promise."

"You couldn't get it up if you tried," you snorted, "whiskey dick." Though he tries to protest, you gently elbow him in the ribs and he sulkily admits that you're probably right. Still, in the warmth of his room and the two of you stripped to your underwear, it's kind of irresistible to not make out like teenagers for a good while. You get you both glasses of water to put on the nightstand, and Felix tells you he loves you while on the brink of sleep.

"Love you too, Fi."

"Couldn't live without you, meant it," he hiccups, cracking an eye to smirk up at you from where he's splayed out on the bed, "probably."

"Don't think I could live without you either," you shuffle yourself into the bed beside him, letting him roll over to wrap an arm around you, "even if you are a fucking wanker sometimes," you grin, and hear him laugh into his pillow.

Felix has more game than anyone you've ever met without even trying, stealing and breaking hearts from all areas of the university. You watch it happen with amusement as you find your own slew of pretty guys and girls to keep you company when you feel like it. Still, for all the charisma and charm Felix had been blessed with, his touch-starved nature becomes both a blessing and a curse when he finds himself drunk and tactile and desperate for touch.

A desperate, affection Felix loses all of those carefully-curated social barriers that the two of you had put between yourselves as teenagers in public. Girls are more open and supportive around here; perhaps you should be offended, that many, once they learn he's prone to clinging to you, to kissing you, they end up rationalising it. It doesn't count.

Or perhaps they think they can shift the affection to themselves. Felix always learns to be more affectionate to them, but will find himself with you more often than he's not.

And those girls don't even know about the sex.

"I think about you," he huffs between short, jagged breaths, with you bent over the end of his bed, "is that weird?"

His latest breakup isn't even twelve hours old yet, but when you'd showed up at his room with a six-pack of beers and the offer to let him vent, he'd taken it without hesitation. While they hadn't been going out for long, she'd been pretty, but an apparently lousy fuck. When you'd jokingly offered to remind him what a decent lay was like, Felix had genuinely jumped at the chance.

"A bit - ah," you mused for a moment, hips rocking back to meet his in a pleasant rhythm. He takes a pause to tap one of your ankles with his foot, and you adjust your stance to be a bit wider, "what context? Just in general - fuck, Fi, there," and you find yourself lost for words as he presses his hand against the small of your back. His pace remains steady as he fucks you, and you obliging lean further down; he knows you well, know how to fuck you just the way you both enjoy.

Then you're in his bed, straddling him, riding him with his hands on your hips, your thighs, bouncing as his nails dig pleasantly into your skin.

"Think about me?" You finally continue, breathless, and something about the way he holds you steady, lets you pause as he laughs, flushed cheeks growing even more read, makes you grin too, "you mean like this, don't you?" And you rolled your hips, eliciting a groan from him that was like music to your ears.

"Shut up," he'd laughed, giving you a squeeze, unable to meet your gaze.

"Did you ever call out my name?" You lean down, across him, and for a moment his hands slide up your body to wrap around your neck, bringing you in for a gentle kiss.

"Thankfully not."

"Still, those poor girls," you teased.

"Poor me," Felix argued, "having to try and power through terrible sex while thinking about someone who's not even there, just because I know you're better at it," and he played at pouting for a moment, looking for sympathy.

"You really didn't have to tell me all this," you laughed, sitting back up and setting a gentle pace, smiling down at him, "you're such a perv." When his fingertips trail down your body, a shiver runs down your spine. There's this look in his eyes for just a moment, something knowing, something teasing, something you'd seen on occasion that made you feel so wanted and seen and -

He likes you knowing.

"You gonna give me something to think about?" That tone of voice, the teasing, the faintest hint of authority, like he's pretending like he doesn't know all the ways you'd debauch yourself if only he asked.

Venetia gets you a collar for Christmas, and Farleigh's already been kicked out of several universities by the time your first Winter break had arrived.

"Oh Pet, that's so cute," Elspeth coos at the designer, velvet collar that Venetia had smugly handed over while Felix had scowled, "is that Cartier?" Much to Felix's dismay, Elspeth and Sir James have apparently taken to calling you Pet as a pet name. He blames his sister entirely.

"Pet's easier, sweetheart," Elspeth had tried to argue when you'd sat down at your first breakfast of the Winter break at Saltburn, and she'd asked Duncan 'don't forget about our dear pet'. Naturally Felix had frowned the entire time while arguing with his parents, who insisted it's easier to use Pet than a whole new set of names and pronouns.

"It's been years mum, how have you not adjusted?" He demands, while you have shrunken in your chair and tried to divine life's secrets from your breakfast.

"What do you think, Pet?" Venetia said with a venomous kind of sweetness. Looking up at her, she's wearing this smug kind of smile, directed not at you but at Felix next to you. When you look to him, you see Farleigh across the table trying to hide his amusement in several pieces of toast eaten with no break in between.

"I think," you paused, looking past an annoyed Felix to his mother at the head of the table, "that if you want to call me Pet, you can, I think it's sweet, but please don't expect Felix to refer to me as such," you said with a surprising amount of firmness. Then after a beat of surprise from the rest of the table, you took a deep breath, "and for events and guests, I really wouldn't appreciate being introduced as such."

"Of course," Elspeth quickly amends, adding, "Y/N," for good measure.

"It's a pet name, Pet," Sir James gives an awkward little smile, nodding in agreement. Farleigh met your gaze for a moment, and you could see only the bread was keeping his laughter from spilling out. Beside you, Felix relaxes, and finally you look at him. Dark, serious eyes, with something grateful shining faintly in the morning sun.

Of course you let him throw Venetia's collar gift in the fire in front of her, despite her protests.

You get used to the sweet way the Cattons refer to you as Pet; as much as Felix despised it's connotations when it came from his sister, there was something comforting, something almost secure about the way the whole family had picked it up so easily.

"Was wondering where I'd find you," Farleigh's voice is warm while you're raiding the expansive kitchen for some kind of easy midnight snack. You could have asked one of the many staff members who reside on the property, but you hadn't wanted to bother them over probably some crisps.

"Farleigh!" You light up upon hearing his voice, turning, refrigerator door still open in your hand. He approaches, and you close the refrigerator, hugging him tightly, "oh this is great, it's been so long since it's been just us!"

"Darling pet," he says with a surprising amount of gentleness.

"You should come to Oxford, Fi and I miss you terribly," you tell him, leaning into his touch with a sincere smile as he holds your face gently, while you still hold him is a loose embrace.

"I've already been accepted into another college; you'll be fine without me," and he grins, kissing you on the nose, pressing a kiss to each cheek, "pet." He adds, almost to himself, and your face falls as you think about what he'd said.

"Everything's better with you," you insist, "and you'd love it; we could party like we did that Summer in France, but every weekend -!" Farleigh cuts you off with his lips against yours; you can taste the sweet smile he's wearing before he deepens the kiss.

Later, in Farleigh's bed, bathed in moonlight and the afterglow, you light up a cigarette and open his window.

"Fucking freezing," Farleigh mutters.

"Sorry," but you don't close the window. Silence stretches out between you both. You hope Farleigh enjoyed himself, hope he's happy -

"You don't need them," he says quietly, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment, you breathe out a lungful of smoke and turn to him with a frown, "this family; we all know where you're from. You don't need them." There's something strange about his tone, clearing his throat when he finally looks at you, "but you still want them to love you."

"They're good to me," you finally say, dropping your gaze as you reach back to offer the cigarette, "to us," you tell him, and he hums with the smoke in his lungs. Then, taking back the cigarette, you inhale the sour-sweet smoke and tap off the ash off the window sill.

"I'm not their fucking dog, Farleigh," you mumble, surprising frustration escaping you, anger you hadn't even realised you were holding on to.

"I know, pet," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, "you'll let them think they have you kept, but you're not their dog, I know."

"I like you, Farleigh," you say with a faint smile, leaning back to see the way he's grinning too, "and I love you a bit as well I think."

"I know, I love you too, Y/N."

"We miss you a lot." There's something about the quiet that follows your words that you know all too well; Farleigh's about to tease you for something. Probably Felix related.

As if on cue;

"Does he know you like being his dog?" Grin widening, Farleigh gives you a slight shove, though the truth of his words has you hiding your own embarrassed smile.

"He thinks it's an insult to me, which is sweet of him," you chuckled, and Farleigh eases the cigarette from your fingers, "but it's like he has no idea the effect he's had on me for over a decade now. Yeah, I'm my own person, I have hobbies and friends outside of him, but -"

"You're a service bottom and desperately in love," Farleigh cuts in with a surprisingly sage tone, nodding like he hadn't absolutely called you out. Shocked with his vulgar kind of accuracy, you practically shove him out of the bed, laughing that he needs to fuck off, and the discussion is left at that.

The next morning, sitting down to breakfast, Duncan quietly informs Sir James that there had been a disturbance during the night. Immediately you throw Farleigh under the bus and declare that it's his fault.

"Hey!" He shouts back, grinning, "it takes two to fuck in the kitchen!" Which has all four of you, Venetia, Felix, Farleigh, and yourself, cracking up with laughter as Elspeth and Sir James were exasperated by your collective antics.

There is so much affection in Felix's eyes in this moment, this simple, strange moment of admitted sexual deviance. Except it's never felt like that to either of you. It's one of the ways you've both shown love, and he loves that you love those closest to him.

And you love to make him happy.

Farleigh was right, not that you'd ever tell him.

[luneariann]

idk if art requests are still open or if you've already drawn this but the ideas gettin silly so here's a few if ya wanna draw whatever you feel motivated to

1. Atsushi making dead eye contact with Kunikida and then slapping something off the desk like a cat (then apologizing while he cleans it up and Dazai laughs his ass off)

2. 16!skk; Dazai broken his jaw, Chuuya's post corruption or bullet wounds (basically just bedridden w/IVs) and Dazai's hooked up to a heart monitor insulting Chuuya in Wabun/Morse code (just- D: "Beep beep beep" C: *rips out IV* "TF YOU CALL ME YA LITTLE SHIT?!")

3. Dazai and Chuuya being compatible blood types and despite him hating pain he would gladly give up every ounce of blood and both kidneys if it meant that it saved (post corruption) Chuuya's life

Anyways, I LOVE YOUR ART SM ITS SO TASTY AND BEAUTIFUL AND THE CHARATAZATIONSHDHAHJXHA YOUR MY FAV ARTIST ON THIS APP/GEN Remember to love and care for yourself, drink water/eat if you haven't today and take breaks :]

1.

2.

AAAA IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG HELWPIDJ

TY SM FOR THE KIND WORDS OMG 😭💕💕💕im so happy im your favorite artist on tumblr???? That’s huge dude I’m?? 💕💕💕Tyty I promise to take care of myself

Ive lowkey lost Interest in bsd so that’s why these took so long to make <///3 but they were too good NOT to make them, idk if you’ve ever considered it but you should defo become a comic artist! The hardest part of comic making is getting the ideas at all so considering you’ve got that down you should definitely give it a shot! These are rly good

I didn’t do the third one cuz I wasn’t sure how to represent it </3

Again tysm for the kind words you’re so sweet Anon🫶🫶 take care of yourself too!!

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Yandere Euron Greyjoy w/ Siren!Reader

Euron grew up hearing the tales of the children of the sea; the sirens who sang their songs and all the men they lured to their deaths, along with their ships. He’d always dreamed of coming across one, catching it and having it for his own.

The thought of having his siren never strayed far from his mind, everytime he was at sea it was all he could think of. He would swear he felt something deep in the water watching him. Following him. Studying him. Teasing him. He knew they were out there, waiting for him. And this only ignited his need to find his siren all the more.

Usually most ironborn take a share of the plunder from their pillaging, especially the captains but not Euron. No, he knows there is a much more valuable treasure out there. Something far more worthwhile. Something only for him.

When the day finally comes and Euron hears that hauntingly beautiful song, he knows he’s got his siren and he’s not going to lose them. Whatever plans, whatever destination there was before is quickly forgotten in place of finally getting what belongs to him.

And what a sight you are to behold when he does finally catch you. You’re beautiful, so frighteningly beautiful. But he’s not scared, after all this is Euron we’re talking about, on the contrary he’s excited. Very excited. You have him feeling euphoric and he loves it. The look of complete shock, anger and fear at finally being caught that washes over your mesmerizing face has Euron feeling even more euphoric. He likes that look on you, he likes it a lot.

As much as Euron has grown so accustomed to this drawn out game of cat and mouse, a game that he has come to take much excitement and anticipation in, he couldn’t be more thrilled to have finally caught you. A part of him almost wants to throw you back into the sea just to be able to chase after and catch you all over again but he’d much rather finally claim what’s been rightfully his all this time.

People said he was mad, that the seas had corrupted him but he knew better than to listen to them. After all he’s got you now, the proof to his unrelentingness. And he can’t bring himself to take his eyes off of you. He doesn’t want to miss a thing; every part of your being, Euron wants to memorize it all.

He’s already prepared a place to keep you, a tank he had specifically made just for you. Quite a well crafted and spacious enough little home where he can watch you whenever he pleases and you’re entirely unable to hide away from his prying gaze. You are his trophy, his gift from the sea that he has waited so long to receive. Of course he wants to be able to look upon you whenever he wishes, it’s his right after all. After everything he’s done to get you in the first place the least he deserves is to see his catch in all its maddening glory.

And maddening you are. He thrives on the hateful look you send his way, the gnashing of your teeth whenever he gets too close, the way you thrash your beautifully scaled body against the thick cage-like glass of your new habitat trying to free yourself. Euron isn’t stupid, of course he’d have your new little home be thoroughly enforced. He may not exactly know what all you are capable of but he has a few ideas and your immense strength was certainly one of them.

After all this time it’s no surprise that Euron would be addicted to your voice, to your song. He’s only ever heard it a few times in his life but he saved it to memory, he would’ve been a fool not to. Euron even took up whistling a similar tune, primarily to draw you out but it was something that just stuck and he never let it go but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. So once he finally had you that song, your song, was all he ever wanted to hear. And he had nothing to interrupt it, no other noise to take away from it. He’d made sure of that when he cut out all his crewmens’ tongues. You may not have necessarily been the sole reason behind his decision but you were one of them. And if he didn’t have to bark out orders he would have taken their ears too.

As much as Euron would love to have his precious little siren wrapped around his body, he knows they’d break him without a second thought. They’d rip his throat out and spit it back in his face with a sharp toothed grin. Don’t even get him started on the drowning bit, not like he isn’t use to it given his being an Ironborn, if anything it excites him more. But none of these things could possibly strike even an ounce of fear into Euron, I mean he’s committed so much worse with his own bare hands, instead it all captivates him all the more. You truly were meant for him and only him, weren’t you? He’ll make sure to take real good care of you, his Queen of the Sea.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

hi, I'm not sure if you accept requests rn, but if you do, can u make a oneshot of sanemi nursing giyuu back to health after a near-death experience? like a demon, or maybe drowning, if not that's totally fine!

hhihi anon<3

Yes, I do accept requests from here bc I get considerably less on tumblr (which is a relief btw-), so I'll do it

I hope I wrote this quickly enough ;x; I think it took a couple of days, sorry

Thoughts of you | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Floof w/ practically non-existent angst

Note: Aaaa there wasn't a lot of the 'nursing back to health' IM SORRY- bc it was mostly giyuu falling in love towards middle-end

×××

Giyuu had worked himself to near-death quite literally. It wasn't on purpose, really! He had just gone... overboard. He'd gotten distracted. Which was unlike himself, unlike a Hashira. But it happened, and there wasn't any going back. He had trained from hour to hour, little to no stop, slept about two hours total in the last three days, and hadn't bothered to get any proper food. He supposed it was some prolonged adrenaline that kept him throughout the days, letting him trudge on. He had gotten another mission, at one point, after these days of totally-taking-care-of-himself, and had gone along tiredly. He had no time to rest, after all.

He had arrived on time, luckily, and had decapitated the demon within the first ten minutes. There was a couple other demons, which took longer to kill because they were hiding. Once finding them, he sapped up the strength he had left and killed them as well. He found, however, that he had used up any energy he'd had left, and tipped over. He wobbled, trying and failing to regain his balance. Then next thing he knew, he was submerged in water, arms aching as he attempted to swim to the surface. He hadn't realized there was an ocean here.

Then he realized there had been some sort of river, maybe. Connecting to a waterfall? It was either considerably deeper than he'd imagined or he was simply too exhausted to get up. He was floating upside down, his eyes shut tight to prevent water from entering them. He felt something sharp grazing his arm and flinched away before realizing it was his katana. He struggled for a moment, trying to sheathe it, but failed. He didn't feel like moving. His body felt like lead and he didn't know if he would ever move again. He felt the breath being drawn out from his lungs, replaced by water. It stung and he coughed, then realized that struggling would only worsen the pain. He stopped, allowing the water to enter his mouth, ignoring the throb in his lungs and the impulse to cough it out.

And suddenly he was flying. Rising? What was happening? His senses had long since faded to a low dull but he felt strong arms wrapping around his torso, lifting him up and out of the water. He felt heavier, the water that had soaked into his clothing weighing him down.

"Damn you, Tomioka..." a distant voice from above him said, annoyance and concern lacing the words.

Giyuu coughed pitifully, the air hitting him like a gust of arctic wind. He was placed down, grass poking at his skin. Hands pressed on his chest, making his cough more, water slowly forcing his way into or out of his lungs. He felt like he couldn't breathe, and didn't make a move to try. He vaguely registered lips against his own, the blissful feeling of air in his lungs again, before blacking out, his senses going dark.

He woke up, eventually. It hurt to breathe and he struggled to draw in a steady breath. His hand stung and he recalled having cut it somehow. His head throbbed like a lightbulb, fading in and out. He sat up slowly, dizzy from the blood that rushed to his head. He blinked. He was laying in a futon, a blanket draped over his body. He lifted his injured hand and found it bandaged. He looked around. He didn't recognize this place. It was unfamiliar to him, and he hated it.

His breath was constricted, though, and if he couldn't breathe well there really wasn't any chance of leaving. He coughed, the unsettling feeling of water still in his lungs making him want to tear them out.

His coughing had brought attention to him and he heard only a minute later he heard a clattering sound of something wooden falling, then footsteps making their way quickly to the room. He went to pretend he was asleep but was a moment too late when, to his shock, Sanemi entered. 

He walked to the futon, kneeling down. "You're an idiot, Tomioka, you know that, right?"

Giyuu didn't respond, wondering if this was Sanemi's house then—or if he had simply been put up to the task of helping him.

Sanemi let out a breath. "Fine, be it your way. Does anything hurt particularily badly?"

Giyuu considered this and shook his head. No, nothing did. It stung when he breathed in and his hand and head hurt, but none of them were bad. He'd definitely experienced worse before.

"Good," Sanemi said with a nod. "Now, tell me what you were doing tipping over into the water on your mission."

"I'm sorry," Giyuu mumbled. He didn't know why he had let down his guard, let himself fall. He honestly didn't.

"You better be. Also, I had Kocho run some tests on you too. Turns out you haven't eaten or drunk enough water in the past few days or so, also you've had not even close to enough sleep, and according to your crow you haven't stopped training to do much in the first place," Sanemi said, an exasperated sigh leaving his body. "You're an idiot, Tomioka. Take better care of yourself."

Giyuu hesitated. "She can see that much from a test?"

Sanemi lifted a shoulder. "It was also just eyeing you. Those eyebags were enough indication in terms of sleep."

"Oh." 

Sanemi nodded.

"I feel better now, I can go home," Giyuu said, starting to stand.

Sanemi pushed him back down. "No. You're staying here and sleeping until you get better. I don't want to see you getting up for anything except the bathroom, alright?"

Giyuu frowned. "But-"

"No." 

There were no more arguments to be said. Sanemi left to go make some food and Giyuu was on his own again, fuming.

He looked down at himself and realized, for the first time, that he wasn't in his own clothes. Had Sanemi changed him?

He glanced around, not seeing his haori around. A sort of panic rose in him and he scrambled up, wobbling for a second, before making his way to the hall where he'd seen Sanemi go. He scampered through it, looking right and left. Had his haori fallen off or been ripped or?-

Sanemi stopped him, clear annoyance directed towards Giyuu. "What the hell are you doing up? I told you to stay down unless you needed the bathroom!"

Giyuu ignored him. "Where's... my haori?" he asked quietly, urgently.

Sanemi let out a breath. "If that was all, you could've just asked." Then his expression softened as he noticed the panic in Giyuu's voice. "It's fine. I washed it and it's drying now. You were soaked from the river, I wasn't about to leave you in those clothes and let you get sick."

Giyuu relaxed. He trusted that Sanemi wouldn't do anything to his haori—he didn't have any reason to, after all. "...thank you," he mumbled.

Sanemi nodded. "Now, back to bed."

He marched him back to the room, tucking him in. 

"I'll bring you your food. So cooperate, okay?"

Giyuu nodded.

Sanemi nodded back, gave him one last look, before closing the door and going back down the hall.

×××

Despite Sanemi's usual arrogance, he was surprisingly tender when caring for Giyuu. There were times he reminded him of Tsutako, his hands gently wrapping bandages back around Giyuu's injured hand, feeding him food when Giyuu lapsed into some sort of fever for a couple days. It was soothing, almost, and Giyuu found great comfort from it. He didn't know that Sanemi was able to be like this but he loved it and hoped that maybe it would last a bit longer.

Though he was considerably kinder to Giyuu, Sanemi still found ways to berate him, getting mad at him when he tried getting up on his own during the fever. 

While carrying him to the bathroom, Sanemi would snap at him, saying that he was being stubborn for not letting himself be helped. It was ironic that he reminded Giyuu of Tsutako; they were complete opposites in every way possible. But it was what seperated him from Tsutako, it was what made him his own person. And it was what made Giyuu's heart throb almost yearningly around Sanemi. He didn't understand it, at first. He figured it was just a reminising of his past days as a child—those of which he could barely remember, he might add. And yet as time passed on, he found it wasn't that. He found he had fallen for Sanemi. Somehow.

He thought it would be a fleeting crush. Maybe just happy to be with Sanemi when he was being nicer. But it grew stronger as days passed. Then Giyuu was allowed out, he was released back into the comfort of his own home. Yet he went back to Sanemi the following day, offering him some food as a thank you. They sat together and talked, drank tea and had some mochi. It was wonderful.

He managed to convince himself, at one point, that he was only coming to thank him for it. That it meant nothing. But it became clear, and he couldn't deny it anymore, when he stopped by the following days, found himself around Sanemi constantly, and... And his thoughts seemed to trail to Sanemi no matter what. Oh, look, a dog! Sanemi likes dogs. A cat? Sanemi never cared for cats. There's a snake in that pet shop! Obanai has a snake. Sanemi and Obanai are friends, right? Obanai is one of the few Sanemi actually gets along with. Hmm, maybe some tea would be good. Sanemi seemed to like tea—or at least have it often with ohagi. 

No, yeah, no. Giyuu was in love.

Upon Sanemi's threats, Giyuu started taking more mind to himself. He tried to sleep at least a couple hours per day, tried to eat and drink more water, kept track of the time and his own body while training. He felt proud of himself for going through with Sanemi's words—then immediately felt childish for being proud. But he continued at it. Although if he hadn't, he probably would've been forced to by Shinobu or Sanemi in the first place. 

Usually, on his missions, Giyuu managed to avoid any injuries worse than a scratch. Except he had gotten distracted this time. His distraction had caught himself off guard and, as he hurried to get back to the present, the demon had managed to slash his leg where the uniform wasn't protecting him. It wasn't a particularily strong demon, so it didn't do much harm, but blood still dampened his clothing. Giyuu killed the demon quickly and then stumbled out of the village he had been in, avoiding people. His calf stung and he winced as he walked. 

He realized that the closest house he knew of that he could go to from here wasn't his own or the Butterfly Estate. Rather, it was Sanemi's. Figuring he could persuade Sanemi for, maybe, some bandages, he rushed over, ignoring the pain that stabbed his leg as he ran. 

He knocked on the door. Luckily, dawn was approaching, so Sanemi was home. The door opened and Sanemi rolled his eyes upon seeing Giyuu injured. He grabbed Giyuu by the elbow and tugged him inside, closing the door behind him.

"Are you going to keep injuring yourself and running to me for help?" Sanemi asked with slight irritation, searching through his drawers for something.

Giyuu lifted a shoulder. "I didn't come to you the first time."

"Still." Sanemi turned, bandages and some cotton balls in hand. He knelt, having Giyuu sit on a chair, and rolled Giyuu's pant leg up, wiping the blood away then dabbing the cotton balls with something and cleaning the wound. He wrapped the bandages around it, tucked it in, then looked up. "Doesn't hurt bad, does it?"

Giyuu shook his head. "It's fine. The demon wasn't that strong. I just... got distracted."

Sanemi frowned. "So you're off forgetting you're also human and overworking yourself to half-death, then you're getting distracted and getting injured by a weak demon now?" he asked pointedly, a disappointed sigh leaving him. 

"...when you put it like that," Giyuu mumbled. 

"Why the fuck were you even distracted?" Sanemi asked, resting a hand on Giyuu's knee as he pulled himself up.

Giyuu hesitated. "I was... thinking."

"About?" 

"...you?"

Sanemi paused. "What?"

"Sorry, nevermind, nothing," Giyuu said quickly, standing suddenly and nearly knocking Sanemi and the chair over. 

"What the fuck do you mean, me?" Sanemi asked, stepping in front of Giyuu and stopping him from moving forward.

"No, I..." Giyuu shook his head. "Nothing." 

"...Tomioka," Sanemi said. 

Giyuu looked up. 

"Tomioka, do you like me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W...WHAT???" Giyuu asked, startled. He fell back onto the chair in his shock.

"God, why are you shouting now?" Sanemi said with a sigh.

"That was so random..." Giyuu mumbled.

"Yeah, well, you're acting like you like me. So either you clarify that you're not, or I'm going to keep you here until you tell me something worth hearing," Sanemi said, poising his hands on his hips. 

Giyuu let out a breath. "I can't clarify something that's not true."

Sanemi cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"You told me to clarify that I didn't like you," Giyuu said quietly.

Sanemi took a moment to understand. "Oh. Oh, so you do?"

Giyuu nodded slowly, looking away. It couldn't hurt to tell him, right? He would probably just act as he had before he had helped him. Angry and annoyed at him. 

And yet.

"Hm. That's unexpected," Sanemi admitted. 

"Can I go now?" Giyuu asked. 

Sanemi thought for a moment. "No."

"But I told you-"

"Yeah, shut up," Sanemi said with a huff. He glanced down at Giyuu's lap the promptly sat down, facing him. 

Giyuu flushed and tried pushing Sanemi off for a half second, before his hands fell to his side and he looked up at Sanemi. "What're you...?"

"If you like me, then would you date me?" Sanemi asked curiously, ignoring his question.

Giyuu considered this. "Only if you liked me too."

"Then will you be my boyfriend?" Sanemi inquired, sounding so casual it took Giyuu a moment to understand the question.

"I... Wha- You- I said if you liked me, only," Giyuu stuttered, struggling to comprehend what exactly had happened. 

"I do," Sanemi said. 

"But... what? How? What?"

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Do you want to be my boyfriend or do you want me to slap you?"

Giyuu grew quiet again. "Fine."

"Fine what? Because if you don't clarify, I'm going to assu-"

"We can date," Giyuu interrupted, averting his eyes. "If you want it too."

Sanemi smiled. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Then, abruptly, he kissed him. It was fleeting, but it felt like an eternity of bliss, somehow, and Giyuu longed for it again when he pulled away.

Sanemi stood, moving back to give Giyuu room. "Alright, now go back home and take care of your leg. Don't keep injuring yourself and being idiotic."

Giyuu opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, unsure. He stood and walked to the door. Sanemi saw him out, watching him leave.

Then, once outside, Giyuu turned back and walked back to the door. "Can you kiss me again?" he asked tentatively.

Sanemi raised an eyebrow. "Want a good-bye kiss?"

Giyuu lifted a shoulder. "Is that bad?"

"Not at all." Sanemi leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Giyuu's lips, moving back a moment later. "Bye, Tomioka."

Giyuu lowered his head in a quick bow. "Thank you."

Sanemi's mouth curved in a smile. "See you later."

"'Later," Giyuu agreed, walking back home.

×××

« Word count: 2600 »

those oneshots where you like how it started and hate how it ended

smh I can never write something where I like the whole thing 😭

[skrrts]

in my eyes, you are perfect (one-shot) mature!

✧ reader & non!idol wooyoung ✧ genre: slice of life, summer, best friends who might like each other, mdni ✧ word count: 1,5k ✧ mentions: very small suggestive hint, rude stranger, insecurity, mdni

Reader and Wooyoung have been best friends for years. It isn't their first vacation together, but Reader is having a hard time enjoying it after being disappointed by a rejected flirt attempt with another tourist at the hotel. Wooyoung thinks that Reader is amazing, maybe he just needs to be the one to tell them just that.

You know it's silly: a rejected small flirt that wasn't even intended to be serious shouldn't ruin your day, but it does because you cannot entirely stop wondering why.

This was the summer vacation of your dreams: long beautiful beaches, white banks of sand, and the most stunning view from a hotel you could only afford after saving up for a year and with the help of your best friend, who watches you with mild amusement as you check your appearance once more.

From your hair to your outfit, social media would be jealous of the confidence you radiated when you left your shared room this morning. But now, the frown just won't leave you, even as you finally give in and join your best friend at the pool, which almost looks like it's part of the ocean underneath it.

Everything is perfect. You are at a place you always wanted to go to with the person who knows you best. But such a small incident once more reminds you that none of this really can chase away that silent wish for love, for somebody to share all of this with.

You stop caring about the makeup you put on when you dive under the water, but it doesn't really help, and all you can do is remain halfway hidden under the surface as you look at your chuckling best friend.

Wooyoung had been in high spirits; he's always easily excited: the space of the hotel room, the view, the stunning pool, and even the vast menu for breakfast. You envy him a little, how he always seemed to be so carefree. Of course, you know he hides a lot of his thoughts and struggles, but at the same time, he keeps pushing onward, no matter what happens.

This strength, yet his playful nature, has always drawn you to him, which made it so easy to become best friends. It also helped that you are close in age, understanding the struggles one goes through in their mid-20s.

"I already feared you would leave me all alone here," Wooyoung playfully pretends to whine a little as you give in and join his side. He has relaxed against the edge of the pool, allowing for a stunning view over the ocean.

You take a moment to admire how it looks, his long wet hair slightly pushed back, his torso no longer slim but muscular, water drops running over his skin and tattoos. As you catch yourself staring, you finally force yourself to look away.

"And do what? If I leave you alone, who knows where you'd end up? Then I'd have to search the entire small town for you, like last time! How is it that somebody who is a professional athlete manages to get lost so quickly?" you complain, only to distract from having been whiny all day.

Now that you are here with him like that, you suddenly feel quite silly for it. Your expressions soften, you sigh deeply and turn around to allow your head to lean over the edge of the pool, eyes closed.

"I know you will always come and find me. I am not worried," Wooyoung chuckles, but his voice becomes louder, indicating he moved closer to you.

"Mh true, what would you do without me?" you joke back and open your eyes to look at him, only to realize he had been drawing quite closely. Your cheeks flush as you look at him.

"What's up?" A silly question, but you cannot really phrase any other words, and before you know it, Wooyoung's arms are pinned around you, his gaze wandering over your face.

"I hate to see you so disappointed, you know? When we left the plane two days ago, you really seemed happy, and I was excited about it. Now, you seem like you cannot really let go of some idiot not knowing to appreciate you properly."

Wooyoung's voice was strangely sincere and serious; he wasn't trying to lighten the mood by acting silly or with quick words. Then, he also never had been shy to come closer; he loved to hug you and take your hand. You never really thought much into it, if this might be strange for other friendships.

"Ah, I... just. I guess, it did bother me a little. I thought, the way that guy looked at me, that he was trying to flirt with gazes, and then I just embarrassed myself being upfront..." your voice is a mutter, but you manage not to look away. At this point, Wooyoung is pinning you against the pool, your bodies close to each other.

You remind yourself again, not the first time but certainly the first of being like this, with so little clothing and surrounded by water, in front of all the other guests. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body; there is still a hint of the aftershave he must have used this morning.

Your body feels strange, not the way you are used to from having your best friend so close. For a moment, there is a hint of a desire to press closer together, to lean in and... His words take you out of it.

"If he cannot appreciate you properly, then he certainly doesn't deserve your attention, you know that?" Wooyoung answers, lifting one of his hands to place it against your cheek, his thumb brushing over it gently. Your mind struggles to form words as you feel in a way that confuses you.

This is your best friend Wooyoung; why do you react so strongly to it? He's beautiful, though, and always caring, looking out for you, more than you could ever have asked for and certainly more than any of your boyfriends offered before.

You exhale, trying to find words, but he's quicker again. Now the smile that is so familiar returns to his expressions: "I will be here to remind you, whenever you need it because you only deserve this and so much more."

When he steps back, you find yourself oddly disappointed, but you swallow it with silence as Wooyoung heads to the edge of the pool. You cannot stop thinking about the way you felt when he was so close, about his soft voice and how beautiful he looked in the sunlight.

It was all you could think about for the rest of the day, and even when the two of you went to the outside area of the restaurant which belonged to the hotel, you still had to try not to blush when recalling it. Your eyes wandered over the menu when a voice tore you out of it.

"Looks like you found somebody to be your summer fling after all, and even a popular face. Aren't you some kind of athlete?" The mocking voice belonged to the handsome stranger you tried to flirt with this morning.

It was impossible to hide your embarrassment, but Wooyoung was out and about to take care of it before you could say anything. "That is correct, I'm a baseball player, soon to be one of the nation's best," his voice lacks no confidence.

"And this one here is the most stunning and beautiful person I have ever encountered. This truly is the best vacation I ever had. If you'd excuse us now, we are about to enjoy dinner."

The tourist furrows his brows, obviously surprised by the bold statement. "If that would be so, you know that your date tried rather keenly to date me this morning?"

"That's not true!" You finally found your words, staring at the guy who is grinning, but suddenly, you are lifted up and pulled onto Wooyoung's lap. His arm curls around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder.

"It's a rare case of a true, sudden summer love. The one you see in movies where it takes an asshole like yourself to bring together what was meant to be. So thanks for that, I finally found that one special person."

The tourist and you are silenced as the bold words spread, but unlike him, you cannot help but blush, your heart beating loudly. The stranger mutters and leaves.

But even as he is gone, Wooyoung doesn't seem to have any intentions of dropping you. Instead, his fingers very gently turn your chin around and towards him. "You are worth everything, you know that? If you'd let me, I'll gladly show you."

Wooyoung's words are both sincere and playful. You swallow, but for some reason, you nod. Yes, Wooyoung knows you, and he never would disappoint you. "Yes, I want that... please show me."

You can see how he grins a little, but happiness is reflected in his eyes. Wooyoung leans in and your lips meet in a gentle kiss. It's curious but soft, and you find yourself returning it without any hesitation because it feels right and perfect just like that.

You two enjoy the moment and only part when one of the waiters clears her throat, asking about your order.

Wooyoung chuckles but finally allows you to return to your seat. "I am quite hungry now! Let's eat well and after that, how about a walk along the beach?" You rub one of your hands over your cheek, trying to chase away the blush, but find yourself smiling. "Ah yes, I'd love that."

Maybe all you were looking for, that person to cherish and love you just like that, has been there for quite some time but you overlooked him altogether.

Now, you won't.

[flame-shadow]

A breakdown of my quirrel!nosk comic from last year (original post here) since I like doing breakdowns and talking about my process, and I know at least some people like reading those things. :)

First of all, a little background. I made that comic in an evening with just a pencil, a black marker, two grey markers, and a yellow-orange marker. (All markers had a thick tip and a thin tip, and all were water-based markers, so they don't blend like alcohol markers, but they can still be layered to affect the values) I had a text post from @g0at0ad saved in my drafts that said "gotta say. massive missed opportunity to not have nosk mimic quirrel to lure the knight into its lair." and finally, I had an idea for how to illustrate the reveal and felt I had a decent idea for the nosk's design.

I wanted to follow the same encounter order as the game provides, and by happy coincidence, I realized that the route from first sighting to nosk den includes the hot spring, so it made perfect sense for that location and the real Quirrel to appear in the comic.

Ghost spots a Quirrel-like figure in the darkness in the first panel, and then as the path continues and drops into the hot spring, there's (real) Quirrel, so clearly that's who Ghost saw a minute ago. Yay, friend! And since Quirrel explores around, it's not strange that Ghost would spot him again in an area not so far away, though it's odd how he got ahead of them. Perhaps a different tunnel? And it seems like Quirrel wants to lead the way to something, so Ghost follows, until- That's not Quirrel.

In addition to the potential of a reader already knowing the game's locations and recognizing the path to the nosk's den, there are other visual clues that subtly communicate that something might not be right. I made it so every panel but the hot spring one has black silhouettes encroaching on the space within.

The third panel is the mildest one being encroached upon because Ghost doesn't yet feel like something is off (still reassured from seeing Quirrel in the safe hot spring) but the trap is coming together. The existence of the spider web in the corner is a nod to the trap because it's a common visual symbol for being trapped.

Also note how both the first and third panels have some safety via straight panel edges. Contrasted with the fourth and fifth panels which have no straight edges as Ghost cannot escape and there is no safety.

Another subtle reinforcement of danger vs safety is how the use of black is very limited in the hot spring panel. It's a brighter room mechanically, yes, but it's also a Safe Room. The only black is Ghost's void parts and a thin outline around Quirrel (and also a bit of shading on his arm that I did out of habit before remembering that I wasn't going to use black to shade him here, oops!)

And, note that in the only panel with Real Quirrel, he isn't framed against a darker shape in the background.

Okay, and finally, I will share a bit about the nosk reveal panel and its design...

This pose and angle are dramatic and all, but they're The Worst for showcasing the actual design of the nosk! Just a complete mistake on my part that I did my best to roll with, since I didn't realize until too late how I'd messed myself up.

Which happens! I don't always get it right, and especially when I'm working traditionally, there's a point where I can't go back, so I just have to make do with what I gave myself. :) I don't hate what I have here, but I have been dissatisfied with it ever since I drew the lineart.

A thought I have had since then was that maybe I should've drawn it larger, to be more threatening? Maybe a different pose to show off the side-body frills? I explored a couple ideas below, but honestly, I think the whole panel would have to be reworked to get it right.

Making sure that the background frames the nosk effectively would be one of the main things I'd redo, but I'm getting tired and don't feel like drawing more, so I'll just leave it at the nosk replacement sketches.

And since I don't think I did a good job with displaying the nosk's design effectively, I quickly sketched some of the features to maybe show them off a bit better.

I like the gimmick of the nosk turning its head, so I pretty much always maintain that with my nosk designs. This one is no exception. Quirrel's head and face become the cranium and upper jaw while Monomon's mask becomes the lower jaw - the extra length causes an underbite. I've always been a fan of when people add a veil hanging from Monomon's mask while Quirrel is wearing it, so that's where the frills come from. ("Why didn't you include the veil in your Quirrel drawings, then?" I hear you ask. And honestly..... I don't know! That could've been an oversight or it could've been deliberate and I just don't remember my justification. That happens sometimes XD)

Anyway uhhh yeah! I think that's it. I like making comics. I like thinking about nosk. Tadaa~

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

Not one to beg.

Soft, sweet and fluffy mostly plotless smut brainrot because these two have made a small hole in my brain and they won't stop kissing ;w;

(this is the first time i've ever legit written any kind of smut so be gentle, if you can)

Ft: Astarion x my durge Tomie

It had been a few weeks since the party. Since the night Astarion and Tomie spent together. Astarion thought it would be just the same as any other seduction. But it wasn't.

Her touch, her skin, her voice, her blood. He craved it like a drug. Not only that, but she made him feel truly wanted. Not just his body, but his company. His time. Every time he insisted they give her neck a break and go hunting, she was right there with him. Tail swishing back and forth excitedly. She could never hide how much she enjoys being around him. He hated it, but he knows he shares the same feelings. She feels like home in a way he hasn't felt in centuries.

When she did let him feed, the rush of desire that floods into him is nearly impossible to bear. He has to stifle moans and keep his body from needily pressing against hers. She must have felt it. There's no way she couldn't. But she never said anything. She hasn't tried to instigate intimacy once since that night. Despite the near constant flirting, small cheek kisses and innuendo exchanged between them. Astarion is shocked. Some nights he had to settle for his own hand just to alleviate the yearning. She was driving him insane and she had no idea. Or maybe she did, and this was all on purpose.

That sly little minx.

One night, Tomie delcared she will be going off to bathe in the nearby lake.

"Alright! Don't take too long, dinner is almost ready" Gale says.

Tomie nods and begins to walk towards the lakes direction with a small towel and some soap. Her tail swishes and she casts the quickest sly glance at Astarion. A hint of a smile on her pretty lips. He watches as she disappears into the treeline. That was the final straw.

"I'm going for a walk" Astarion says. Not waiting for a response from the others. Walking in the opposite direction of Tomie to not rise suspicion. He will double back once he's far enough away from the camp. A few moments of aimless wandering and racing thoughts. Should he do this? Was she avoiding it for a reason? But if that's the case, why would she be teasing him so much? Gods, it's like he can smell her from here. Warm, spicy, indulgent. But wait, how? Did she get hurt?His pace quickened from a casual stroll to a sprint. Now rushing towards the direction of the water he hears small curses and gasps of breath. Not wanting to scare her, he hides behind a tree and peeks at the scene ahead.

She was in her undergarments, washing her day clothes in the lake. She had accidentally sliced her hand a little with a rock. Nothing too serious. She cast heal wounds on it within moments and looked around, making sure the blood didn't draw any predators. Once content, she went back to washing her clothes in the water then wading in herself. Still in her underclothes. She closed her eyes and floated there for a while. Looking truly at peace.

It's now or never. Astarion emerges from a tree, just the same as he did the first time.

"There you are" He says.

"Oh! Hi Astarion! Come to do some washing?" Tomie asks. A sweet seemingly innocent smile on her face. But a small glint in her eye indicated to him that she knew EXACTLY what she was doing.

"Something like that. I was drawn to the scent of your blood, I wanted to make sure you were alright" He tries to add as much velvet to his voice as possible. He's done this thousands of times before. Why would this be any different?

"Such a worrywart, don't tell me you've started to care have you?" Tomie says. Her voice soft as silk, putting his seduction attempt almost to shame. Tomie effortlessly swims to the lakeshore and emerges from the water, dripping, her undergarments clinging to every curve. Her ivory hair wet and slicked back, effortlessly cascading down her shoulders. She was a vision. She gently shakes herself off a little then meets her eyes with his. Her bright red eyes and cat-like pupils shine in the moonlight. He had never noticed that her eyes glow like that before. She approaches him and he finds himself leaning his back against the very tree he was hiding behind. He felt almost dizzy.

"Now, why don't you tell me why you're really here?" Tomie purrs. Her hands behind her back, leaning forward slightly. Her tail slowly waving side to side.

"Well" Astarion scoffs. "Isn't it obvious??" He's supposed to be the seductive one. Making people swoon with just a few words. How is it that this woman flusters him so?

"Not to me. See, I prefer when someone is direct. I want to know exactly what you need from me" Tomie brushes her fingertips against his arm, sending tingles all the way through his body.

"Darling, I'm not one to beg but-"

"No no, I don't want you to beg. I just want you to tell me".

Tomie's torso is flush with his now. Her tail twitches with anticipation as she continues tracing her fingertips against his arm. Looking up at him sweetly. He takes a deep breath and sighs once he realises he hasn't been breathing since she came out of the lake.

He takes her hand and starts kissing each fingertip, Slightly cold from the water. He drops the sensual facade. Neither of them want this to be a performance. In between kisses he admits to himself and to her:

"I need to taste you again, to feel you, to indulge myself in you". He says. His voice earnest and wanting.

"I want the same" she says. There's a hint of relief in her tone as she wraps her arms around his neck. They both rest their foreheads against each other. With a deep sigh he places both his hands around her waist, running them up and down her curves.

"Then why didn't you say anything? I've been losing my mind these past weeks" Astarion says, his voice gentle and low, barely above a whisper.

"I...I never want you to do anything you don't want to do" She cups his face in her hands and rubs her thumbs along his cheekbones. He melts into the sensation. She moves her head back to look directly into his eyes. Her expression so sincere, so gentle.

"I noticed how distant your eyes looked last time, and I know your experiences with sex haven't been exactly...Pleasant. I wanted to wait until you were ready."

"You sweet, generous thing" He places a small pecks on her cheek and forehead while she giggles. In one swift motion, he ducks to the side and spins her around so now she's the one against the tree.

"Ha,déjà vu" Tomie giggles.

He's tired of waiting. He grabs the back of her head and presses his lips against hers. She wraps her arms back around his neck and gently runs her fingers through his hair. He presses his thigh between her legs, causing a soft, sweet moan to come out of her. He slowly removes his shirt in between deep kisses, and unbuttons her damp undershirt with swiftness and skill. He will never get used to that feeling of skin to skin. She is so warm, so soft. Several weeks of pent up desire flood through him as he explores every inch and curve of her body with his fingers. Low moans and growls come from deep within his chest. Finally, he releases her so she can catch her breath. Her lips are pink and puffy from the kisses, her cheeks and ears flush with blood and desire. She moves her hand from behind his neck to his face as he play bites at her fingers. Giving her one last deep kiss then trailing smaller kisses down to her neck, brushing some of her hair out of the way.

"May I, darling?" Astarion purrs.

"Of course, Astarion. Always."

"Gods, my name sounds so sweet coming from you".

Holding the back of her head steady, he licks and kisses the small puncture scars on her neck made from previous encounters. He gently bites down and starts drinking her life essence.

"Hmmph" He groans in pleasure with every swallow. He holds her closely against himself. Craving to touch as much of his skin to hers as he can. He feels the warmth of her blood spreading between both of their bodies. Her blood alone is enough to drive him to madness. He starts to feel the slight buzz he gets when full. He unlatches himself from her neck before he drinks too much, gently licking the beading blood from the wound and his lips.

*sigh* "You are delectable, you know that?"

"You've mentioned it once or twice" Tomie coos.

"You're alright?" Astarion says. "Not lightheaded or faint?" He holds her face in his hands and kisses her nose.

"I'm perfectly fine" Tomie smiles.

"Good. Now where were we?"

He resumes kissing her. The sweet copper taste from her blood still on his lips. They clumsily find a soft patch of grass and lie down, Astarion on top. He presses himself against her skin as if he can't get close enough. They start rolling against each other in a slow, melodic tempo. He doesn't want to rush. He stops kissing her and sits up for a moment. Taking her in. Her chest rising and falling with every breath. Lidded eyes full of love and desire. Her mouth slightly open and lips parted.

"I think I need to taste you again, my dear"

"Oh? I'm not sure I have enough blood for tha- ah!"

He kisses his way down to between her legs. Gently massaging her flesh, and kissing and biting her inner thighs. He slowly removes her underwear, damp with water and arousal, and moves his kisses closer to her aching sex. He looks up at her again from between her legs.

"May I, darling?" Astarion says with a smirk.

"Gods yes." Tomie says, breathless.

"Ah ah, yes what?" Astarion says coyly.

"Yes, Astarion".

A low moan comes from deep within him as he wraps his lips around her slit. His tongue slowly parting her lips to expose her clit. Her sweet juices covering his mouth within moments. He kisses and licks her clit slowly and gently, then with more force. Tomie starts to squirm and shake from the sensation. When he is sure she is about to go over the edge, he stops.

A dissapointed sigh comes from her.

"Don't worry darling, I'm not going to leave you hanging".

He removes his pants and exposes is throbbing length, sopping wet from arousal. He comes back up to meet her lips and presses deep kisses against her. He brings his elbows up to prop himself up while cradling her head. He hooks his leg under hers and brings it upwards. Then slowly slides the head of his cock between her slit tentatively. Rocking back and forth. A frusterated moan comes from her between kisses and with a laugh, he decides they've both had enough teasing. He finally slides himself in. A small whimper threatens to escape from his lips.

"Gods, never make me wait that long again, my dear" Astarion says breathless.

"Never again" Tomie moans.

They rock together in smooth motions, slowly at first then increasing in speed and desperation. Tomie pushes against him and they roll over so that Astarion is now lying on his back.

"You don't have to do all the work you know. Let me spoil you for once" Tomie purrs.

She slides herself back onto his length and begins to thrust her hips in rhythmic motion. Astarion places his hands on her hips to keep them steady. She looks stunning riding on top of him like this. Taking him in completely. She leans forward and they continue to rock and kiss against each other. Small whimpers come from Astarion as he grips her tighter. Thrusting more vigorously. She can't hold herself back anymore and rides into her orgasm. Legs shaking slightly and her pussy pulsing against his throbbing cock. He's not far behind, they both moan into each others mouths between kisses as they pass over the edge of bliss. Tomie collapses onto Astarions chest as they both giggle. Astarion wraps his arms around her and strokes her back. They both stay silent for a few moments. Cuddling into each other and slowing their breaths down.

"So, what do you think Gale made for dinner?" Tomie asks, looking up at him. Astarion lets out a hearty laugh.

"I don't know, but I'm sure it's nothing compared to the meal I just had."

Tomie giggles, then relaxes back onto his chest. He doesn't quite know what they are, or what he's feeling. But he does know that this? This is nice.

[oscconfessions]

for what calposa said

I actually really REALLY want to get involved in the OSC . I've grew up with Object Shows as my interest , drawn my heart out and let the OSC admire my art/writing , yet the moment that I dip my toes in the water I just see how terrifying and judgmental the OSC really is .

Nearly every person [ NOT EVERYONE. JUST A PATTERN I'VE NOTICED ] disguises themselves as someone open-minded and accepting , and then you start talking to them and they're really not like that . They're actually extremely closed-minded and dramatic over a canon.

I would love to meet more people in the OSC and actually SOCIALIZE with new people , but damn I'm afraid of being BITTEN once I step foot in that closure .

Let's make something clear:

I do not WANT to hate the OSC. But it's sad that I do.

- The teens bully the literal children in the OSC instead of protecting them.

- They do not want to see those who are victims/accused recover, they just want to talk about it because they love to feel a part of things. That is a toxic community.

- Headcanons/ships (moreso headcanons) are mistaken for canons constantly and people immaturely throw tantrums when their headcanon is debunked(? ... or just not included).

- The teens/kids threaten the bigger people in the OSC. For example, Adam Katz when he was forced to private his instagram due to people drawing preposterous conclusions . And they BARELY get ANY apology for being harassed unjustly.

Sorry for the rant. And I want to give a quick THANK YOU to the mods of this blog, having to tolerate the OSC. I like to think that this blog is a stepping stone when it comes to bettering the OSC because we get to hear things and address things without a conversation having to be started prior. Thank you for making this blog. We appreciate you ^^

<3 !!!! tysm anon ;w; - 🗄️

[dracdliweht]

pinned post

Me!

I am the god of my fictional world (and possibly soon to be indie series maybe[?])

age: old enough to watch deadpool and get most of the jokes

some hobbies and stuff I like: animating, watching youtube, fictional characters suffering, sushi, looking at my notifications which are slowly gaining more activity, ducks, and the color gray

stuff i hate so you guys can bother me: transphobia, annoying people, inexperienced critics who complain about things they don't understand, and snap peas

A few of my characters!

Drac Dliw, or just Drac, is an immortal shapeshifter. Their gender is yes, and they are about 2,044,169 years old. They enjoy shapeshifting and spying on people, and they definitely don't have an irrational fear of inverted cursors. Their soul is eternally bound to their body, so they cannot die or feel pain except for headaches.

Shifter, the other immortal shapeshifter. He is 16,199 and male. He enjoys alcohol the wilderness, and he doesn't really like shapeshifting. He also HATES the word discord. He has no idea why. He can't die, but he can get hurt. Shifter's powers are more.. limited than Drac's.

Talon the lizard mermaid! She is female, and is roughly 19. She also enjoys spying on people and the woods, and has a genuine disliking of water, specifically oceans. She isn't a shapeshifter, but she does have water bending abilities. She also has a very rational fear of capybaras.

Flower the tortle! She is almost 7 years old, and she loves just about everyone and everything. The big flower hat on her head somehow never dies, and is very durable. (She's the least traumatized, as her backstory is still in the making)

Sade, the half-robot lizard guy(kobold if we're talking dnd). He's about 22 and male. He used to enjoys engineering and mechanics, and he hates explosive things. He always wears a black cloak.

Artemis the Aarakocra. He is male and 48. He likes space and trees, and he hates.. *ahem* spiders, being called Artie, heights, mages, tieflings, and age. He has a robotic left leg from working in the army.

(I have decided that he is the main character for some reason)

I have way more ocs I just haven't drawn them yet. (I don't know how to draw them yet)

Fanart* is allowed

*not exactly fanart since you guys don’t count as fans

[kestisvrse]

headcanon collection: dating cam cameron

♫ - new romantics by taylor swift

(slightly suggestive at the end?)

· belly or jere introduced the two of you

· instantly drawn to each other (or atleast he is to you.)

· even if you were a party person, if he ever was at the same one as you you found yourself escaping to a quiet place with him

· if you were in the same school i imagine him always leaving little notes in your bag or locker

“you look pretty :)”

“i like that colour on you”

“hang out after school? □ yes □ no”

· study buddy, also how you got to know him better and what led him to even asking you out

· he loves when you talk about your interests, he just stares in awe and nods as you speak

· he goes over to your house one day while you were baking cookies and that just becomes your guys thing, always baking together

· meaning cliche movie flour fights, all. the. time

“we need to start keeping track of the winners”

· STARGAZING.

· like i swear if the skies are clear he is asking you to go on a walk or drive to look at the stars

· as you get closer and he gets a bit more confident he definitely gets touchier

· he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything so its always subtle

· shoulders pressed together, knees hitting or your fingers interlocking

· you’re cold? he will give you his hoodie

· if he doesn’t have one on him he will immediately go and buy one it doesnt even matter

· i dont see him owning many hoodies, but he definitely owns less when he starts dating you because he keeps giving them to you

· having them returned to him awhile later because they ‘lost their smell’

· he will fall asleep if your hands touch his hair in the SLIGHTEST

· ok exaggeration but seriously playing with his hair is actually his favourite thing ever trust

· not big on nicknames but would probably drop an occasional “babe”, “angel” or “sweetheart”

· but saying that, he loves when you call him nicknames, like will melt at anything you call him

· so if you had asked to call you a nickname he definitely would do it more often

· not big on pda, minimum he has to be standing next to you, holding your hand or resting his hand on your back, he’ll place a quick kiss to your lips or forehead but not often

· he makes up for it when you’re alone, taking every opportunity to show you how much you mean to him

· for some reason i just imagine like, your first kiss being underwater

· like you’re both pushed into the pool and while under the water just say fuck it and lean it

· even if people are around, it’s just so in the moment

· as much as he loves staying in, cuddling and watching a movie, he LOVES taking you out on dates

· it doesn’t have to be public, he likes bike rides or picnics, scenic things he gets to experience with you

· makes you playlists

· like he doesnt just update one, he’ll make a new one every few months, or ones for certain moods

· you’re sad and he can’t be there? he makes you a playlist of songs so you can think of him and hopefully feel better

· the BEST at comforting

· he’ll listen and only give advice if you want it, or even if you don’t want to talk he is there rubbing your back or tracing shapes on your hand to calm you down

· he like is definitely secretly easily jealous

· like you would never be able to tell if he was, and he would never tell you

· unless it’s someone like, touching you or obviously flirting with you, he will immediately have his arm around you hoping they will get the hint

· but usually he hates getting jealous, especially if its just a friend or he is misreading it

· so he stays silent because he trusts you and know you wouldn’t talk to or encourage anyone trying to get with you

· even while dating he still does the note thing, this time scattering them around your room, in your draws, placing them so you could keep finding them for months

· definitely has a million photos of you, and has a problem with printing them off and putting them everywhere around his room

· he’s absolutely WHIPPED for you

· he loves putting his hands under your shirt onto your waist, feeling how warm you are as you blush

· nose kisses.

· i don’t think hickies happen a lot

· like he loves kissing your neck but he never leaves a mark

· but occasionally slip ups happen, and he’ll feel so bad but you don’t even care, because it shows everybody that you’re taken

· i don’t think he would be a huge fan of you kissing his neck

· probably tickleish so he ends up squirming and giggling

· he likes when you kiss his face though, it doesn’t matter where, he just loves it.