#and in such I can never fully allow myself to draw (even if I do it)

[morningmask27]

Dimitrescu sisters catified references

I posted a few drawings of these three in cat form and I thought I'd share the reference drawings i made for them. I wanted to add little traits that they share, but while also making them all unique.

family traits:

all three have a stripe that leaves from their eye.

beige chests and bellies (aside from Bela who only has a lighter chest)

a white marking that represents something about them (kinda) + one stripe going in the direction of that white spot

the ear tufts (Bela's are shaped differently, but she still has ear tufts)

their jaw structure is all about the same (square-ish), Cassandra's is just hidden by the fluff

Bela

I wanted her to be smooth. she takes great pride in keeping her fur clean, but there is ONE spot she can't tame and those are her fluffs right above where her front legs begin. (it makes her so mad)

I am mean I gave Bela a lot of heart-shapes everywhere; her ear tufts, the "shoulder" tufts, the white spot, her tail being a three in one, her dorsal stripe ending in one, ...

her tail is always droopy.

she's technically the same size as Daniela, but because in my mind she slouches a lot (It's a slightly more defensive posture), Daniela always seems to be taller than her.

her white spot is, as previously stated, a heart. It's very on the nose, but I never said I'd not hammer on that little detail. Her stripe there does do an interesting thing: before Miranda takes away her heart, the stripes don't cover her spot, just like with her sisters, but as soon as Miranda did her thing the stripes move slightly to now end on the heart. once she gets her heart back the stripes move again, away from her marking.

she has one scar and that is her nicked ear. it fully got rid of her (also heart-shaped) ear tuft. she got this when Miranda took her heart. (~symbolism~)

her eartufts are fully shaped differently than her sisters' and mother's. It is my favorite way to draw ear tufts, but that's beside the point.

I imagined her as looking the least like Alcina. I don't really know why exactly, but I did. I also decided to give Heisenberg's dog for the same eyecolor as her and beige markings that mimic these of Bela and her sisters. he's family and Alcina hates it.

(well actually I kinda have the idea in my head that she's kinda the daughter that wasn't really good, a first draft if you want. she's the elders, but her younger sister recieves more attention than her and I just find it striking, so I made her look the least like Alcina to make that distance between the two more tangible)

I did not have the courage to draw her cult ending form. I didn't want to cry.

Cassandra

spikey, and she likes it that way. her fur is groomed, she just keeps it more natural. she thinks (and she's kinda correct) that it'll make her more charming and attractive (to some)

I pretty much had wolves in my head while drawing her, I wanted her to be a bit more canine-like than her two sisters. Misunderstood, seen as dangerous and solitaire beasts, but actually very caring to those they love. But also imposing and grandiose. whereas Daniela is just a cat, chilling and Bela is a cat and tbh she's tired, Cassandra hogs the spotlight and demands attention.

I wanted to make her makings sharp. nearly all of them have pointy ends. you have to handle her with precaution or you'll end up hurt. she doesn't do this intentionally though;

star-shaped chest marking, because she is a star, obviously. She flaunts about it everywhere she can, much to everyone's annoyance.

no scars because this diva will never try to get into actual trouble. She cries at the first sight of (real) blood.

her ear tufts are very similar to Alcina's and she's very proud of it. she is a mama's girl after all.

she's not all fluff, there are some muscles underneath the fur, but her fur is pretty long still. she can hide small items in her fur if she wants.

shortest out of the three sisters (like in the game). stands as tall as she can to still appear taller than Bela. she's got basically the ebst posture just to win against Bela.

Daniela

somehow, despite her activities, she has the smoothest and cleanest fur (Bela is very jealous, but will never admit it). she says she just cleans it and there is no secret. Bela swears she'll one day understand how she does that.

very muscular because she's always off doing sport of whatever. due to this she's also the strongest out of her sisters and very much able to win a fight against them, but she doesn't want to actually fight with them, so this fact doesn't see much use.

the scars she has are from the occasional accident. running a bit too fast and tripping for example. They're all very funny, albeit embarrassing stories that her sisters Love to share.

she's very round, shape wise. aside from a few sharp angles or straight-ish lines, everything is softened out; she is very friend shaped. unless she's angry and then you realize she's a lot stronger and taller than most.

her chest marking is the one I kinda dropped the ball on if you want my honest opinion. It's oval-esque and could be seen as her board since she loves skateboarding, but it's also just because it flowed better with the rest of the stripes I gave her.

round, friendly (and slightly curious) eyes. she's very cute and will convince you of anything when she wanted to, yet she doesn't really look very kit-like.

as tall as Bela, but obviously looks the tallest due to Bela's grumpy slouching. she teases her sisters about that.

her heart tufts look like a between part of Bela and Cassandra's. it was an accident, but it's cute so I kept it.

the freckles and heterochromia were obviously brought into this design. I am an avid fan of both.

[musical-chick-13]

Like I genuinely might just. Have to not finish this story, if I can't get all of it posted before January. I know this is the absolute LEAST of my potential problems should a certain someone get elected, but it still sucks.

[sugudollz]

corrupting virgin suguru 🧎🏽‍♀️

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Corrupting virgin Suguru? Hm… yeah.

MDNI!! Virginity loss (Suguru obv). Big dick Suguru lmao. He refers to you only as “baby” (even though I was ITCHING to make him call you “mamas” I had to restrain myself. It just didn’t feel right.) AFAB reader. Experienced! Reader. Virgin Suguru has been on my mind since foreverrr 😩. Not proofread lol. I have a discussion due later today but erm. Um anon sorry if this is disappointing ummm THIS IS SO RUSHED SOMETHING CAME UP BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO MAKE YOU WAIT 😭. This was supposed to be so different bro…

“BABY, WAIT—” Suguru pants, watching as your hands reach down for the zipper of his jeans. His big hand shoots down for your wrists, holding them in a firm grip as he tries to recollect himself.

You bat your lashes up at him, feigning innocence and obliviousness. Giving him the prettiest look you can muster, you ask him in a sweet voice, “what? What’s wrong, Sugu?”

And of course it’s that look you pull every time you want something from Suguru. He loves it, your pretty eyes, gorgeous lips, except he hates it at the same time because he can never say no to that sweet look.

“Just… wait a sec…” Suguru mutters, cocking his head to the side as he takes in deep breaths. You pout but listen to him anyways. However, your eyes stayed glued to the obvious outline of his hard cock, how strained it looks and how tight it must feel.

Tonight, like every other night, was supposed to end in a few kisses after a nice, relaxing shower and comforting cuddles. Then go straight to bed. Like always, as if routine. The only thing different? You were feeling a little… impatient.

While your lips were pressed against Suguru’s, you slid your tongue right past his, then proceeded to scoot up on his lap. Your hands wandered from his chest to the back of his neck, securing your balance to push yourself closer against Suguru’s body. In the process, your clothed pussy rubs against his half hard dick, making you giggle and him gasp.

“Lemme do this, Sugu,” you mumble in the crook of his neck, your lips right against his flesh and your lashes tickling it. “Please?”

The way you speak so gently is so enticing; what is Suguru meant to do? Say no? Sighing, he lets go of your wrists and leans back, looking down at you as he notices an eager smile embrace your features.

Of course, Suguru has been thinking about this day ever since he met you. The feeling of your little hands wrapped around his length, or the feeling of your warm cunt enveloping his dick and clamping down on it. It’s what he’s fisted himself to every night before bed. Why wouldn’t he?

“Mm… mkay…” he mumbles, nodding his head and relaxing his body against the headboard of the bed. You jump from his lap to stand on your knees, legs on either side of him and hovering over him. Your hands make quick work of reaching for his zipper and undoing it, mouth practically salivating from the thought of fucking him.

After undoing his zipper, Suguru lifts up his hips to allow you to shimmy down his jeans. He watches in anticipation as you do your thing, sweat building at his forehead and in between his knitted brows as he sinks his teeth so harsh into his lower lip it almost draws blood.

Slowly, you rid Suguru of his boxers, your eyes aimed at him the whole time. Then, your eyes dart down to his freed cock when you hear his breath hitch.

“F-fuck…” he mumbles, throwing his head back as his hand flies to the sheets of the bed, clenching them tightly. Your eyes shine with lust, biting down on your tongue to suppress any unnecessary noises. You can feel your panties getting damp just from touching him, squeezing your thighs together for some friction.

After more and more gradually aggressive strokes, you come to an end and remove your hands. Suguru watches you attentively, eyeing the way you slide your skirt off of your waist, followed by teasingly removing your panties.

With your wet pussy almost fully exposed to Suguru, he gulps, eyes following as you take his cock and line it up with your pussy. After taking in a deep breath, you gently lower yourself on his length, gasping when you feel his tip enter you.

“Shit…!” Suguru pants, doing his best to keep watching the way you lower yourself onto his dick. You’re watching it as well, the way your wet cunt sucks him in, sweat forming between your knitted eyebrows.

“Mmph—Suguru, you’re so deep—” you whine, sucking your stomach in as if that’d make it any easier to take him fully. “So big…” you mumble.

That’s when Suguru is as deep in as you can take, already on the verge of whining.

“You feel so…” he trails off, already lost in the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock in every right way. That was new, obviously, your juices dripping down on his length.

“M gonna start moving now, ‘Kay, pretty boy?” You whisper sweetly, but your eyes are telling a different story. Suguru takes a few seconds to collect himself before he nods and breathes out a quiet, “okay,”

You start moving your hips up and down, Suguru’s hands flying for whatever stability he can find to keep him grounded to earth. As much as he tries to keep his attention on your pretty face, he just can’t because the way your pussy grips him like a vice is too overwhelming he just has to squeeze his eyes shut.

His cock stretches you out so well, and he didn’t even know it. Murmurs of “fuck,” slip past Suguru’s lips repeatedly, his shirt riding up his torso and exposing his skin.

Suguru never thought this is where his day would end, but he’s glad it did. After months of getting himself off to unrealistic and repetitive porn videos, he’s finally feeling the godsent gift that is your warm pussy sucking his cock in, and it seems like you’re enjoying it too.

Suguru has never touched a woman sexually. He doesn’t know how to move his hips to give you pleasure. But of course he wants to help you, so he bucks his hips up into you, groaning when your walks clamp down on him. You whimper at the stimulation, throwing your hands on Suguru’s sweaty chest, digging your nails into the flesh.

“F-fuck, Sugu—don’t do that—” you whine and your head drops as you pant, putting a halt to your hips. Suguru nods and slowly opens his eyes to meet your sweaty body.

“Alright, shit, my bad.” And you start bouncing again, fucking your pussy onto his cock steadily, your tits jiggling from the effort. You can feel the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside of you, making you moan with every push. “Feels so good…” he says that quietly, almost inaudibly, and he can feel his dick twitching inside of you, as can you.

Suguru then realizes that this is way better than fucking his own cock at night—the way your walls easily get stretched out from the sheer size of his girth, the warmth of your cunt, just the feel of it, it had his eyes rolling back. Being a sorcerer all of his Highschool years and even after, his never had the chance to get laid or any of the sort, so this is a thrilling new feeling. He can already feel his lower abdomen tightening, legs twitching and breaths shaky.

Of course, you can feel the change in his body language and demeanor. Smiling smugly, you lean down to his ear, attempting to keep the steady rhythm of your hips as you breathe into his ear.

“Gonna cum?” The words roll of your tongue with a hint of playfulness laced in your tone. Suguru huffs and grunts, nodding his head as if he was tired.

“Yeah,” his voice is breathy when he utters this. You giggle and raise your hips just before aggressively slamming back down to his pelvic bone, the cock hitting all the right spots. Suguru’s hands immediately fly for your waist, digging his fingers into the flesh but he tries to keep his hold gentle.

Continuing with your sly movements, you can feel a knot in your tummy tying. Suguru, as with every other thing about you, notices the way your pussy grips tightly onto his girth and the way your hips get sloppy and exhausted.

“Cum, Suguru,” you whisper sensually, and in response, Suguru’s head snaps your way, confusion painted on his face.

“I-in you…?” It’s obvious he’s a bit nervous, since of course he doesn’t want to put a baby in you the first time he’s entered your pussy.

“Mhm,” you hum and to that Suguru just exhales deeply. In just seconds, Suguru is emptying his load inside of you, groaning and moaning the whole way. His head is thrown back in the process, his teeth sunken into his lower lip. He repeats your name under his breath like a prayer, along with murmurs of “fuck” and “so good”.

It’s a great feeling, the sensation of orgasming. His eyes roll to the back of his head and you’re fucking him the whole way through, which is what brings you to your climax. You’re gushing all over his cock, whines and whimpers falling from your parted lips. Burying your head in his neck, your sweat drips down onto his skin.

Your juices coat his dick, and Suguru opens his eyes just to watch it—but they soon wander to your pretty face like it was second nature, and it’s there he sees how gorgeous you look as you come down from your high.

“I love you so much,” Suguru pants and from the sudden confession you’re caught off guard, but smile lovingly anyways and kiss his neck.

“I love you, too,”

You carefully bend your upper body over Suguru’s, your face in the slope of his neck and Suguru doesn’t even think to mention the fact that his cock is still buried in your sweet pussy.

© 2023 sugudollz only on Tumblr — do not copy, repost, translate, or steal.

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,506

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

He was everywhere.

When you were supposed to be training the younger hunters, when you were telling stories to the children, when you were eating meals with the rest of the clan.

No matter where you were, you could count on him being nearby, keeping an eye on you as if you were his and only his.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought, mainly because you knew that, no matter what, you would never belong to anyone. Especially not to him.

Though… in a way, it was also kind of sweet that he cared so much about who you were around. Annoying as it was, he was very eager to show that he still cared about you despite all these years of separation.

No matter what, though, you were determined to not allow him to get into your head again. Not this time. Not ever again.

Gritting your fists, you set yourself into the mindspace of the task you had to do now; some one on one training with a young student who was currently a bit farther behind than the others.

Walking along the trodden dirt path, you came to a clearing surrounded by thickly growing plants, trees towering over you as if reaching to the blue hued sky above. You draw in a slow breath, letting it out slowly as you wait for your student to show up, bow resting against your back.

“I hope you don’t mind. I convinced Ìtseì to let me have this training session with you. I could use some practice with you.”

Exasperated, you turn to level Neteyam with your best, coldest glare, only to find that he was unfazed by your hostility. He simply smirked back at you, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his bow from behind his back.

“Are you sure you still know how to use a bow? After all that time, swimming with the reef people… it probably left you extremely rusty.”

“Ah, there’s that spitfire I’ve been waiting for,” Neteyam responded, notching one of his feathered arrows. Intricately carved, delicate and deadly. Quick to pierce hearts, sharp enough to end a life in one shot.

Just like how he ended the life you’d had before.

You shake your head, regathering your thoughts to what you needed to do.

“You’re a big boy. Help yourself. Since Ìtseì did not show up, I will go and hunt by myself,” you respond, turning your back to the male, fully intent on hunting alone.

Except, he didn’t leave you alone.

You were beginning to wonder if this was a behavioral pattern that had been forged into him by his father from a young age. After all, Neteyam followed Jake around all the time as a child, ready and waiting for orders or instructions that only he could take care of.

That had to be the reason for his stalker-like behavior.

Pushing aside heavy, large leaves and small viney shrubs, you could hear him behind you, despite the fact that he was very obviously trying hard not to make a sound.

“Following me is not going to get you on my good side,” you warn softly, throwing the comment over your shoulder aggressively as you walked a bit faster.

He wasn’t discouraged, nor did he seem to be bothered by your sharp words or your dismissive behavior. In fact, it seemed to spur him on more, his footsteps speeding up so that he could catch up with you.

“Come on, Y/n. Can’t we just talk? You and I, together, like we used to do. Please.”

His fingers wrap around your wrist and you yank away, at the same time swinging your bow at him, instinctive training kicking in. He ducked down, barely missing the slash of your bow in the area where his face had been mere seconds ago.

“Do not touch me, Neteyam te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan. I am not your yawne. I am not your childhood friend. I am not your toy or your plaything. You have destroyed everything we once had. You have crumbled every bridge that sat between you and I. I want nothing to do with you.”

This time, he falters, a look of horror and shock on his face. But you aren’t really sure if that was directed towards the fact that you’d tried to hit him or the words that had just spilled from your lips.

You turn away to hide the tears that were now burning hot and fresh in your eyes, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. He didn’t even deserve that.

Your feet move before you can think about it, taking you rapidly farther away from the stunned form of the boy who’d ruined your life. You were certain he’d leave you alone now. After all, he was smart, quick to understand the things people were telling him.

Or at least, he used to be.

Your ears twitch to the sound of him running to catch up once more and you sigh, rolling your eyes. Obviously, the ways of the water have dumbed down that intelligence, considering how desperate he was to ignore your stinging-sharp words and your ice-cold disposition towards him specifically.

“Y/n, stop walking.”

You don’t belong to him. You never did. So why did your feet falter in your path? Why did you hesitate to keep going, even as you turn to face him once more?

“Open up, Y/n. I’m back. I’m here. I’m here and I want to talk to you. I want to fix what I broke before. Please, let me explain myself to you.”

There’s a hint of desperation in that smooth tone of his, a soft drop of pleading that didn’t belong to the body that spoke the words. He’d never been the begging type before.

You open your mouth, prepared to respond in the same way as before, when a sharp sting erupted in your cheek and you tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Your hand slides up, cupping your sore cheek, as you stare up in shock at the male looming over you, a new expression on his face. Unreadable and hard to pick apart.

“I just want you to hear me out. Just onc- oomph!”

Before he’s finished, you’re launching yourself at him, slamming your shoulder into his abdomen and knocking him to the ground, the soft grass beneath your feet doing nothing to cushion his fall.

“You don’t deserve my attention!” you shriek, grabbing and yanking at his braids as you wrestle him in an attempt to win the little brawl. He’s fighting back, which you had to give him credit for. It wasn’t something you’d expected from him.

Rolling in the grass, disrupting plants and innocent, wandering wildlife, biting and scratching and pulling at anything you can get your hands on, you realize he’s not going to let you win easily.

And for once in your life since he left, you welcome this. Everyone else had been taking it easy on you, seeing as how you were pretty destroyed by his departure. Things had been done for you if they seemed to be too hard. Your parents had doted on you for the past three years, trying to make up the love that you’d lost.

You needed a challenge.

And he was providing it.

It was exciting, exhilarating, full of promises of a frustrated loss or an awarding victory.

You put your all into this little sparring match, putting all of your otherwise-useless training to use. When it became clear that he was doomed to lose, he still refused to fold, fighting until the very end.

When he tapped out, the sensation of a satisfactory win filled you up inside and you couldn’t help the grin that began to grow on your face.

You sat in the grass, working to catch your breaths, silence spreading out between the small clearing you’d both found yourself in.

It was nice, peaceful and calm. Like the days you’d shared as children, playing in the streams under careful adult watch or laying in the grass and staring up at the sky as his siblings ran around picking flowers and playing games.

“Please, talk to me,” he murmured after a while, breaking the soft, gentle silence that had begun to fill you with melancholy as you reminisced on the days of your childhood.

You stand slowly, dusting yourself off as he watched you, trying to come up with the right way to explain yourself.

“I can’t,” you respond, finally meeting his gaze.

“Neteyam, you cannot fix this. Not now. Possibly not ever. I’ve moved on with my life. Don’t you think it is about time that you moved on with yours as well?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even bother to get up, and you grab your discarded items from the ground, not saying another word.

Yet… as you walk away, you realize with a sinking heart, that perhaps, you’d not gotten over him as much as you wanted to believe you had.

Taglist // @earthling55

[batchilla]

Fata Morgana Chapter one: A Favor Given.

Content warning for some … outdated views on women. Don’t worry, you can fix him.

The tournament of Fata Morgana brought with it all the excitement of a tournament, but given it fell so close to the annual Festival of Cupid, it held more still. For as well as the honour of victory, a gold purse and acclaim, the winner was given a crown of roses, to give to any maiden he saw fit to choose, and to open the Ball of Cupid by sharing a dance with said maiden. Captain Jason Todd, the knight of Arkham, had won the past three years, and each year, the same maiden had been given the crown.

You.

You, the princess, and only daughter of the king of a small yet ambitious nation. You, who while understanding that your affection for the hero of the battle of Arkham, the captain of your personal guard, could never be fully realised or acted upon. You, who had the last three years watched him compete with baited breath hoping to dance with him once more. You, who after he had first presented you the crown three years hence, had given him a favour the next two years. You, who on the eve of his fourth tournament, are sneaking down to where the competitors have pitched their tents around the competition field, to do so once more.

The air is warm, crickets and the nickering of horses punctuated by the occasional voice. They are stoic, not rowdy or drunken, that will come tomorrow when the contest is over. Tonight, the sense of anticipation and solemn preparation lingers over the field. You find his tent with relative ease, it’s blood red fabric near black in the darkness, but his steed is tied outside and pays you little mind as you hesitate outside the tent flap. There had been no hesitation when you slipped past your guards. No hesitation in deciding to come here. Still, you hesitate now, when the only thing separating you from him is canvas, struck with nerves over what exactly you would say to him.

Your stalling is ended by the tent's flap opening to reveal the Knight of Arkham standing there, staring you down looking less than impressed. Your mouth goes dry as the desert.

He stands there in loose pants, and a white shirt with the top eyelets undone to just above the lowest point of his pectoral muscles. His hair is mused and out of order. You feel your breath catch, and it is only your lifelong etiquette lessons that prevent you from doing something completely humiliating and degenerate like bite your lip. Granted you saw him nearly every day, but there was something about seeing him out of plate, seeming so much himself rather than maintaining stoic professionalism.

“Your royal highness, you ought not be here so late - and where is your guard? God preserve me…” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

You try not to stare at the way the action causes his arms to move and flex, or how soft his hair seems. Instead, you force yourself to look him in the eyes, and reply.

“All is well, surely. These tents are filled with knights. Men of honour. I am perfectly safe.” You speak softly, so as not to draw attention to your presence, despite what you verbally claim, you know full well that being undiscovered will better serve you.

Captain Todd-Wayne opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Sighs. You suppress an urge to smile, practically able to see his mind working on how to respond to that without offending your feminine sensibilities.

“Your Highness while your father’s knights - myself included - would of course never consider harming you, the matter persists you are without escort.”

You bat your eyes, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you. “You are the captain of my guard, and have acted as my escort a great many times.”

His jaw clenches, and he makes no attempt to rebut the statement. “Who was meant to be guarding your door this evening?” He asks tiredly.

“Sir West.” You supply.

“Well. Rest assured that by sundown tomorrow he shall be thoroughly reprimanded for allowing this to happen.” He says, anger brewing under his carefully stoic features.

You sigh, but do not argue. You came for a reason, and you will not be distracted by his ire in your goals accomplishment.

You reach into your pocket, and produce a thick, blood red ribbon of finest velvet.

You hold it out, and he takes it, carefully not touching your hand, but where the ribbon hangs from your fingers.

“Best of luck in the morrow.” You say softly. You hope he understands what you really mean. What you cannot say.

You hope he knows you love him.

You turn back into the night before he can respond, the soft look of awe on his face, though the same each year, too great a source of pain and longing for you to take.

___________________________________________

Later that night, Jason lays on the temporary bed in his tent, staring at the ceiling as he idly runs the ribbon through each digit, feeling its weight, its softness. He slides it through his fingers, pulling it through and winding between each with his opposite hand. He closes his eyes and his breath shakes as he recalls its owner. Imagines it in her hair, tying it up, exposing her neck and …No. No. No.

He clenches his hand into a fist, his eyes snapping open. He was a knight. Her Knight, Her protector.

He would not dishonour her with his perverse thoughts.

He refused to.

She had done him a great kindness, in extending her favour. Clearly she knew of his affections, given his actions at the three Tournaments of Fata Morgana past even a woman could deduce the truth of his pathetic circumstance.

It was a great kindness indeed that she allowed him to indulge, one night a year in an unreciprocated fantasy, even feeding into it with this, the most generous of gifts.

Fata Morgana. An illusion. How terribly fitting, his lone solace, the one mercy he allowed his starved soul. To dance with her, once a year. To lay the wreath of roses in her hair, and pretend he was more. That he was worthy.

That he was not the second, adopted, common son of his father. That he hadn’t been sent off to be a squire so young that the Wayne estate no longer felt like home. That he had risen to his honoured rank of his position because he deserved it.

They’d said he was. The king had called him a hero. The people called him a legend. It would not surprise anyone if his story outlived him three generations. Jason Todd, the hero of the battle of Arkham. He had rallied his men, and turned what should have been a massacre into an unparalleled victory, but when the screams fell silent and the dust settled, he had disappeared. He had been declared dead. Turned into a martyr. A fallen hero.

Until he had been found in the woods of the Al Ghul estate, with no memory of who he was or how he came to be there, six months later.

The greatest of healers had helped his mind return - but what happened to him in the lost six months escaped him still.

His Father had asked him to recover at the Wayne estate. He had refused. He said it was duty. It was. But not to his king. It was duty to her, and to his heart. He had not spoken to his father since.

He knew she surely saw only a knight. How could she see more, given how little he was? A knight pinning after her to be sure, but not one she would seriously consider as a marriage prospect. He was not heir, afterall. He was not respected, he was a novelty. A fearsome novelty.

Sleep finds him eventually, a merciful reprieve from his spiralling consciousness. Only to take him away to the same nightmare he has had each night since his return.

That flash of sky, of rocks ascending skyward, the smell of salt and of decay. Pain. Nothing.

[love-rosaline]

how can i be guilty as sin?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ what if he’s written ‘mine’ on my upper thigh only in my mind?

enemies to lovers, mutual pining // pierre gasly x fem!reader

sequel - am i allowed to cry?

authors note - don’t fully know what i’m doing, so i’m sorry if it’s sucks, but if you enjoy my writing and want to request something then feel free to do so! :)

Hate wasn’t a strong enough word for what Pierre felt towards you, and the very same could be said for how you felt about him. You’d lost count of the amount of times your mutual friends would ask you precisely why this was, and neither of you were ever able to give an exact answer. At least not one that should be confessed out loud.

Pierre was well aware he was attractive enough to get almost any girl he wanted to fold for his attention, but not you. You were confident, you would flirt with anyone you wanted to so effortlessly, and you were just so annoyingly pretty. And what irritated him beyond belief was the fact he knew you were truly lovely, bubbly and sweet, just not to him. The moment he approached you’d tense up, expression falling flat and brows sinking into a disapproving frown. He wasn’t sure what he’d done for you to act so begrudgingly towards him, but he couldn’t get you out of his head.

You were never a fan of parties. They were practically a cocktail of social anxiety, sensory overload, and a debilitating pressure to fit in with the drunken dolts around you. But you decided you could make an exception on this occasion, after all, Charles was your best friend and who were you to miss his birthday celebrations?

Up until this point in the night, you had been leaning against the kitchen countertop overlooking the bustle of the party, engrossed in casual conversation with Alex, a glass of champagne in hand. Of course, she was your confidante, she knew each and every one of your secrets, so when she caught Pierre sauntering over in the corner of her eye, she sent you a playful grin before slinking away. This left you attempting to grapple at her arm to draw her back towards you, preventing her from isolating you with the Frenchman.

“Alexandra-”

“Hello you.” You internally groaned, practically hearing the cocky smirk before actually seeing it.

“Pierre.” You sarcastically smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“The pleasures all mine, really.” he rolled his eyes, letting out a theatric sigh before speaking again. “C’mon chérie, how long will it take for you to admit you at least tolerate me?”

“Tolerate being the operative word.” You flatly responded, swirling what little alcohol was left in your glass before tipping your head back to down the remains as if it were liquid courage. “At least make yourself useful, pass the champagne.” You gesture vaguely to the bottle stood beside Pierre, just out of your reach.

“What’s the magic word?”

”Oh yeah, never mind, I’ll get it myself.” You push yourself off the kitchen surface, moving to shuffle around him, but just as you went to grab the bottle he hooked his arm around your middle, gently restricting you from taking hold of the alcohol. You groan softly in protest. “You’re a pain in my ass Gasly, you know that?”

“Uh huh. Do you wanna know what I think?”

“Enlighten me.” His jaw slightly clenched at your bored tone, but he held his ground, taking the smallest step closer to you.

“You want me.” You could have easily denied the accusation, but you found yourself revelling in the way he positioned his body so close to yours, lips ghosting your outer ear as his hand slid down from your waist to rest comfortably on your hip. “You want me, you’re just too afraid to admit it,”

You weakly swallowed the lump in your throat, placing a hand on his chest and gently pushing him away, maybe even a little reluctantly. He smiled down at you, seeing your walls break down right there in front of him.

Shit.

[callsignmarz]

MDNI | 18+ : Keegan x Reader | Fem

TW- sexual content, degradation & humiliation.

“Social Media.”

"Take it down...now."

Keegan goes to snatch the phone from your hand but some how you were quick enough to dodge him.

He saw the picture on your story.

Not on your wall, where you strategically uploaded pictures of fond memories and alluring selfies, decorating yourself to be some eccentric individual.

No, it had to be your story. Which was meant to post for temporary reasons.

All damn day, you've waited for Keegan to get home from work, excited to unwind the night away with your boyfriend.

Only to get turned down because he wanted to play his fucking video games.

So, in retaliation...

You posted a mirror selfie, posing to draw attention to your curves in nothing but a thin grey sweater and simple black panties. Of course, to make it more classy, you add a black and white filter.

"Don't make me repeat myself, y/n." He warned you with another attempt to grab your phone, but to no avail.

"I'm not taking it down." You scoffed at him, finding amusement in pestering him, "A thirst trap never hurt no body. Besides, not like you're giving much attention today."

"Are you fucking with me right now? Your 'little followers' don't need to be thinking you're single..." there was a dangerous edge to his words as he spoke. It took every ounce in him to not flip out on you.

It was nauseating to him how much your life revolves around your Instagram.

Each moment had to be shared, every comment enlivened you and the likes that flooded your notifications gave you fulfillment.

You practically were a whore for attention.

The two of you continued the power-play battle for your phone with Keegan's sculpted chest bumping you back until you were pinned against a wall.

With a spontaneous reaction, you shoved your phone right into your panties. Keegan's eyes met yours, fully aware what you were doing. You were provoking him in the right ways, even if it did piss him off.

"Do you think that's supposed to stop me?" He let out a unwarranted chuckle."You're playing with fire, princess."

Before you could respond, his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, grazing teasingly close to your clit. Your breath hitches with anticipation, as you allowed the phone to be retrieved from it's hiding place.

Unlocking the phone, he scrolled around until he had reached your post. His thumb hovered over your sultry picture.

Before pressing the delete button, Keegan had sent the picture to his phone.

And instead of giving you back your phone, he holds onto it. "Are you happy now?" You say as if bored.

"Very but, I'll admit it...you looked damn good in that picture." Keegan said with a smugness in his tone as his eyes now raked over your body. "But let's be crystal fucking clear about one thing..."

His hand crept up and lightly trailed your throat, sending electrical jolts of pleasure throughout your body. He could see a flicker of impish desire in your eyes, expediting his own arousal.

Keegan leaned in, his lips hovered over your ear and with a husked voice he whispered,

"Don't think you're getting out of this. When I tell you something, babygirl...I expect you to listen."

You can feel the cool surface of the wall behind you, heightening your senses and making you acutely aware of the close proximity. A wicked smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his hands dropped to his pants, easily maneuvering to undo them.

"Get on your knees." He commanded and your body follows. Your obedience fueled his dominant nature. Keegan's hand fishes out his needy cock, unveiling himself before you.

You could feel your mouth watering at the sight of his dick, ready to take him into your mouth. He saw the hunger gaze of yours, and he tilted his head slightly to the side, looking down on you with his own avid fascination.

As he guides his cock to your waiting mouth, his finger comb into your hair then finding a firm grasp as he descends down your throat. The taste of him on your tongue was a delicacy.

Keegan let out a low, throaty groan as he lost himself within the depths of your mouth. "That's it, baby...fuck..." he rasped, before pulling out your phone. The flash of the phone illuminated your face, capturing your attention.

He was recording...

You try to pull back, but the vice grip Keegan had on your hair, anchored you in place as his hips bucked into your mouth.

"Not so fast, babygirl. Mmm.. you're going to show everyone who you belong to. So, take this dick like a good little slut." Keegan's voice was laced with mischief and seduction.

With that, his thrusts quickened and moved with power, the sounds of your gagging mixed with his moans echoed of the walls.

Keegan watched you through the phone, making sure to get the best angles. You were putting on a performance of a lifetime as your lips and tongue worked their magic.

Within a matter of seconds, you were a mess. The sight of your disheveled state, inched him closer to reach his climax.

"Fuck, y/n... I'm about to come...argh."

He yanked your hair back, pulling himself from your mouth, leaving you gasping. His cock glistening with your saliva and your chin coaxed in his fluids. His hand continued to stroke his throbbing shaft, the tip of his dick turning bright red.

"Here it comes baby...mm.. fuck, f-fuck...yes, god y/n..argh!~" Keegan growled through his teeth.

You patiently waited, eager for him to consumed by his tantalizing orgasm. It wasn't long until ropes of milky white cum, shot out onto your face as if he was painting a canvas.

His groans of ecstasy sounded like a symphony to your ears. As he slowly caught his breath and stopped recording. His attention fully into the video, making sure it met his standards. Then with a press of a button, Keegan uploaded the video to your story.

"I'm sure you'll have fun with the comment section later." He laughs as he pulled you up onto your feet, handing the phone back to you.

"Now let's get you cleaned up."

[dreamsandcherrypie]

Chapter 9: Field of Blue

“They were together... I’ve never seen a monster in love before… it’s about as horrific as you can imagine,” I let out a sour chuckle and absent-mindedly look up at him. It’s a mistake.

That’s one mean face card.

I take a hot minute to get a look at his features in the moonlight through the last couple tears that insist on being shed. I’ll definitely have to draw him when I write about this in my journal later. It’s that little thought that makes me realize…

Wait. Holy shit I’m still on him!

I immediately roll off his firm body into the soft grass. The backs of my hands wipe my puffy eyes as I come to my senses. I can feel him still looking at me, but I’m too chicken to look back up at him. Instead, I choose to keep my eyes on the stars, mostly in an effort to remind myself how they comfort me too.

And they do, as does this place. I can feel the magic here. It helps to see the surrounding blue aura I can’t be sure belongs entirely to me. The silence is nice while I allow it to last, but I demand to be heard.

To my dismay, my breath still shakes, “Look Dean… I’m not going to be trusting you again any time soon… and even after everything… I can’t believe it but… I can’t bring myself to fully hate you. Given that and some time… I just want us to get along because Ava really likes Sam.”

I prop myself up on my elbow to find him stony, no, downright statuesque in this gorgeous field now filled with more tire marks. The majority of that aura is definitely from him. Blue, like the bonnets but the color is more muddied…

[flymetosnarryland]

My Snarry WIPs' list.

I would like to share something. My Snarry WIPs' list, yup. Why? I always felt weird writing about myself and stuff I do, but I'm processing changes and thought I can share not only art, lol.

How many project are you working on? I'll dive into couple of mine:

Date with a Star - a Post-War romantic comedy. Harry is in love with Severus, Severus secretly loves Harry. Both are too scared to say what they feel to not lose their friendship. A friend in need asks Harry for help and this is where the wild ride with dumb dating TV-show starts. Especially because Harry don't know that the same friend-in-need blackmailed Severus to get him into the same show too. This is actually a second Snarry fic I ever started to write, inspired by dating TV-show from 1992. I remember that when the idea for this one hit me, I was laughing for a good hour (that TV-show was absolutely ridiculous). And I still feel a pinch of positive embarrassment when think about what's going on there. In fact this story made me want to learn how to translate my wiritngs into English. It's half written and translated too. I really have to finish second part.

Infraction - my first monster fic. My baby. Crime (serial killer), slow burn, Muggle AU featuring Marauders and Death Eaters, political sheananigans and Severus' old flame. I have entire story written out from beginning to the end. What's more... with an ending that allows me to dive into second book (I'm excited lika a child) including the initial idea for it, ahh. Every time I think about Infraction, I feel butterflies in my stomach and a tear comes to my eye, damn. However, the entire project requires a huge amount of work. And a few modifications that I finally have to do to complete the first stage. It's not simple, though. I regret a bit that I released the cover, prologue and first chapter. I was prematurely carried away by the joy of creation, but that's okay. Going to fix it all in time.

In the Moonlight - working title. Something I planned to write for last year's Snarry AUctoberfest, but the beast got bigger, lol. Crime (kidnapping), Muggle AU - my great weakness and, most importantly, inspired by the movie Bodyguard (the one with Whitney Huston). Much like Infraction, this fic is fully planned and scripted. I can't believe I managed to do it. I wrote 1/4 of the whole thing and even have the lyrics of original song that Harry dedicates to Severus, although I don't know anything about music at all (an elephant stepped on my ear).

In between - a drawing series. Harry and Severus in a cute/fluff version. Post-War and happy life, because that's what they deserve!

First time - Drama/Romance, Muggle AU (gosh, yeah, again!). This is a project I want to do 50/50 as a fic/comic. A few works and dirty sketches have already landed here. I have a little dream of writing something that includes e-mails/text messages. In general, a romance that started online. Aren't Harry and Severus purfect for this? (Plus doing art in colour for this project was a test I wanted to start before 3B.)

3B - a Vampire fic, yessss. Can you believe that once I said, I'll never ever write or do anything connected to vampires? Hehe, now I'm in the middle of it, fully commited and over the moon. A bit dark/angsty story with a bonus: illustrations. Crime (more like, cri-me a river, lol; I mean, again? Yup xD), Post-War, a few intrigues, even a SnarryWedding o_0 gosh. That is another thing I said: "No, that's not going to happen." I guess, I fell on my head since now I do everything I promised to myself not to. But it's fun. And bloody, mhaha. I also created my own Vampire Villains and I kinda fell in love with them. Going to sneak into this fic a bit of blood magic mechanics that I created for my fantasy book, too. The picture at the top is one version of the cover sketches ɷ◡ɷ

Adrenaline - working title. Post-War/Drama/Romance and slow burn, a bit of Hogwarts, a bit of Quidditch and for a change Severus will have to show that he wants something more. I mean, I always writing/thinking about Harry chasing Severus. So here the dynamic will change a little. Can't wait for it! The idea for this one was accidentaly born last week and I can't stop it anymore. The inspiration comes from the cover art for Witch Weekly that I did, lol. I had no idea that at the stage of brainstorming, it would turn into another monster. It supposed to be a short story, but, apparently, I'm not good at short stories and it's time to come to terms with it xD I won't cry either because I like Harry and Severus pairing up in different ways/AU's, hehe. And most importantly - creating all these things, even if they don't fully see the world outside my drawer, still gives me great joy!

[candiedcoffeedrops]

Cloud Gazing

Ring Schwarz x Reader (no pronouns used)

Notes: I just wanted to write something sweet and fluffy to take a break from trying to write three other things all at once and this came out. Not a lot to say here, just fluff!

WC: 674 CW: None, but it is written from Ring's perspective. Also, tooth-rotting fluff, but that's it that's all I can think of.

Oh yeah, still no beta. We die like mne.

“Ring! That one looks like a crocodile in a sun hat! See look, that part there is the snout, right? See how it’s open like it’s smiling? Then-”

I sit on the grass beside you, the sun's warmth soaking into my skin as the clouds drift lazily overhead. Your voice, light and full of laughter, fills the air as you excitedly point out shapes in the sky. My gaze follows your outstretched finger, tracing the contours of a particularly fluffy cloud that might indeed resemble a crocodile in a sunhat—if I squint. But my attention inevitably drifts back down to Earth—to you.

I try to focus on the clouds, really I do, but my gaze keeps sliding back to you. Something about the way your eyes light up when you spot a new shape, the way you smile as if you’re discovering a treasure in the expansive blue above, draws me in completely. My chest tightens with a mix of comfort and a kind of yearning welling up within me as I become acutely aware of your proximity. My eyes dart downward, noticing your other hand is splayed on the soft grass, fingers pointed towards me, and my own twitch with the suppressed urge to reach out and touch them. Surely, that wouldn’t be too forward, right? After all, we’re–

Your attention turned to me and I immediately refocused on the cloud, hoping you didn’t notice me staring. But the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrays me, and I silently curse my traitorous face.

Your giggle bubbles up beside me, and I feel the flush intensify. I turn my head, my lips thinning as I try to hide it.

“Caught you looking,” you tease, another laugh escaping your lips. “What’s so fascinating? Do I have something on my face?”

“I–wasn’t…I mean, I was, but–”

Before I can finish, you shift closer with a soft hum, and warmth envelops my hand. I glance down to find our fingers intertwined, your gentle squeeze a soothing balm to my nerves. It’s a simple, sweet gesture, but one that never fails to ground me. “It’s okay. I look at you like that sometimes, too. So, I don’t mind.” Your voice is warm, and your smile is bright. I breathe a small sigh of relief, the tension ebbing away as my own lips curve into a smile.

A silence passes over us, though not uncomfortable and I’m grateful for the chance to collect myself. You return to cloud watching but I remain focused on you. Every once in a while I’ll see your eyes shift to me and a subtle pink graces your cheeks as you point out new shapes in the sky. You bring so much light to everything, even small things like this and it makes me so immensely grateful I found you. You put the sky above to shame.

Your voice becomes a soothing rhythm, lulling me into a sense of calm. I hadn’t realized how tired I was, but now, with the sun warming my skin and you beside me, the tension I’ve been holding onto starts to slip away. My eyes grow heavy, and despite my best efforts to stay awake, and spend time with you, I feel the need to rest.

“Hey,” I begin, drawing your attention to me again with a curious tilt of your head. “May I…lean on you?” I ask, and I know it comes out as more of a nervous murmur than an actual question, but still, you smile softly at me and nod, offering your shoulder. The warmth of your body against mine is comforting, grounding me even as sleep pulls me under. I nuzzle closer, the scent of your hair filling my senses. A soft sigh escapes me as the tension begins to melt away.

The last bit of consciousness I have allows me to hear you hum softly, your fingers threading gently through my hair. “Sleep well, Ring.” You say and I can’t help but smile as I let myself fully relax into a sweet sleep.

Cloud dividers by @drinkthesky

Banner done by me.

@drachonia

[suuuupernovaaa]

More

Timothee finds the sketches you’ve drawn of him.

Chicken freaks me out. It always has. I can never quite be convinced that it’s fully cooked and as a result, it’s almost always dry. Maybe even burnt.

Tonight is no different. I wipe my hands on a dish towel and scowl at the dead bird before me, looking just a little too crisp. It’s seasoned to perfection but really, what good is that if the insides are dry as sand?

“I’m sorry, Tim, but I can’t serve you this!” I holler as I turn from the stove and leave the kitchen to enter the adjoining living room.

Before me is an empty couch. Empty chairs. Sometimes he perches on the round wooden coffee table, but he’s not there either.

“Tim?” I ask. A glance to the right allows me to peer through my bedroom door, and I can see him standing by my bed. “What are you doing?” I ask, pushing the door open wide. He turns to reveal my sketchbook, a new one I got just a couple weeks ago, in his hands.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I know it’s like a huge violation of privacy!” he says, his eyes wide with panic as if he’d just been caught rifling through my panty drawer.

Actually, this does feel a little like that, but I know I left it open on my desk. I usually stash it before company arrives. Stupid mistake.

It wouldn’t be such a big deal, really, if the pages weren’t full of him.

He’s there, on every page. His face, his eyes, his broad shoulders and thin arms, his angles and sharpness, the branches and leaves that make up my best friend.

I see him in my dreams, or every time I close my eyes. If I don’t draw him, I can’t stop thinking of him when we’re apart. Even then, it’s only a temporary fix.

He extends the sketch book to me, the look of an admonished child still on his face, and I take it with a gentle smile.

“It’s okay. Um, dinner is ready, but it’s not very good, I’m afraid.”

I toss the sketch book onto my rust colored duvet, hoping to toss away his memory of those drawings with it, and turn to leave the room. A blush is creeping across my cheeks, and I really don’t want him to see it.

Tim’s long fingers clasp around my wrist, halting me in my path.

“Y/N…” he says, quietly, just above a whisper, and the floor below me turns to cement.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “We could, um, order out. Maybe Thai?”

The air shifts around me as he walks slowly, still holding my wrist, until he’s right in front of me. His lips are set in a straight line, his brow furrowed, his eyes questioning.

“Tell me,” he commands, so unlike the casual Timmy from just moments before. He stands before me with an almost threatening air, and I pull my shoulders in, and take my wrist from his grasp.

“I burned the chicken.”

It’s not what he’s asking. We both know. It’s been years of dancing around this. I can’t let a sketch book carelessly left open be how he finds out.

“I don’t care. Those drawings, Y/N. What do they mean?”

My cheeks are really heating up now, and as always when I’m overwhelmed, tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I glance over at the sketch book. It’s plain, unassuming, and causing me a lot more trouble than I thought it ever would.

They’re just drawings.

I should open my mouth and say that. Just drawings. Just drawings.

“They’re just,” I stop, the lie stuck on my tongue. “They’re how I feel.”

He walks over to the bed and picks the book up again. He flips a few pages in and lands on a close up of his face. It took me a couple days, I kept going back to get the eyes right.

“People have drawn me before but this is… something else,” he says, staring at the drawing and then back up at me.

He doesn’t mean it arrogantly. He is who he is - and who he is, gets drawn a lot. Mine aren’t particularly special. There are probably better drawings out there of him.

“No one’s ever done anything like this for me. Like, I see myself differently here. Through your eyes.”

My cheeks will explode if they get any hotter. “Well thank you, I think.”

“How do you feel?”

“What?”

“You said, these are how you feel.”

I take the book from his hands and close it. “Don’t, Timothee. We’ve been friends for so long.”

He shakes his head and steps closer. I fight the urge to step back. His gaze is so intense. “Tell me. Please, Y/N. Say it.”

The book is clutched to my chest now, as if it can protect me from this.

As if I want to be protected from this.

“I want…” I stop, lost for a moment in the deep brown of his eyes, staring so passionately into mine. “I want more.”

Just a few words. I can’t think of how else to express it. The way he consumes me whole, and always has.

“More? I can give you more.”

There is no space between us anymore, and the sketch pad falls to the floor. I don’t hear it land. There’s a deafening roar in my ears. The ocean. My heartbeat. His heartbeat.

He wraps one strong arm around my waist, pulling me flush to him, chest to chest, and his other hand comes to my face. Deft fingers trace my cheek. I close my eyes, and lean into them with a sigh.

“More,” he whispers again, his breath on my lips. “I want that too.”

His lips are everything I’ve always imagined. I’ve felt them on my cheek, my hand, but never on the sensitive skin of my own lips.

My mouth opens for him in a heartbeat, and I sigh with longing and fulfillment. My hands are in his hair, on his back, his chest, at his waist. It’s a frenzy but it’s slow, too, and the world spins around us.

He moans my name and pulls away for just one second. “Incredible,” he whispers, a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad you left those drawings out.”

I kiss one cheek, then the other, and softly once more, his lips.

More.

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Just Fucking Write 2k24 - Day 24 🔞

Prompt: Yunho x Fem!Reader

Tags: You’re in public, fingering, accidental squirting

A/N: Since writing in second person makes me itch, here’s first person POV y/n. Narrator is female. If this is complete garbage it’s because I haven’t written y/n in about 20 years. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Yunho jerked his hand back like he’d been shocked when he accidentally touched my bare thigh.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine, why?” he adjusted the napkin in his lap and refused to look at me.

“Because you acted like I was gonna slap you or something for accidentally touching my leg,” I replied.

“Oh, well, you’ve never told me I can touch you,” he replied. I hated that I had to stifle a giggle.

“While I appreciate your concern over consent, I wouldn’t mind at all if you touched me,” I put his hand on my thigh. He carefully splayed his fingers, taking time to feel my skin under his hand.

“What if I touched you here?” he asked, moving his hand up my thigh to more sensitive areas.

“That’s fine,” I told him.

“And here,” he moved his hand even higher so his pinky grazed between my legs.

“You really want to do this here?” I asked, leaning closer to his face. It was loud in the room. There was nothing suspicious about the maid of honor leaning in to talk to the best man. We were friends, after all.

“The list of things I want to do to you would definitely exceed the amount of time we’ll be here,” he replied.

“What do you want to do to me right now?” I could feel myself getting wet and prayed it wasn’t getting all over my dress.

“Right now I want to put my fingers in your pussy and make you come, but you can’t let anyone know what’s going on,” he put his lips next to my ear. Chills ran down my spine. I had not expected that reply.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Are you gonna make me say it?” I leaned back to look at him. He smirked at me. “Yes, I want you to finger me in public and I’m not allowed to give anything away.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased.

“Unlike your cock right now,” I glanced down and there was an obvious bulge in his lap.

“We’ll take care of that later,” he said as he moved his whole (giant) hand between my legs. “Already wet for me.”

“You make it easy,” I replied as he pushed my panties to the side and began grazing a finger over my folds. I never thought I was particularly sensitive, but even just a few touches was making me squirm.

“You’ve got to hold still. Can’t draw attention, remember?” he breathed in my ear. I nodded, afraid of what noise might come out if I opened my mouth. He eased one finger into my pussy and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. “How many do you think you can handle? My dick is definitely bigger than one of my fingers and I assume you’re going to want that later.”

“Three. Try three,” I breathed.

“That’s close enough,” he agreed. Before I could fully process anything, he was three fingers deep in my pussy with his thumb massaging my clit. I’d been fingered before, but never like this. Never by someone who knew how to find every spot that drove me closer to coming loud, hard, and fast. I chewed on my bottom lip to stay quiet and was grabbing the chair so hard that my knuckles were turning white. Granted I didn’t know much about Yunho’s sex life, somehow he’d learned how to drive someone absolutely insane using just his fingers.

“Getting close, aren’t you?” his breath was hot on my neck. I nodded, feeling my pussy contract around his fingers. “Should I finish you?”

“Please,” I whimpered.

“Since you said please,” he pressed hard against all my most sensitive spots at the same time and I came. At the same time, I felt like I pissed myself. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. That’s when the panic set in. I knew it was all over my dress. Goddamn my sister for choosing silk.

“It’s okay. You didn’t piss yourself. You just squirted. Definitely not enough to include actual piss,” Yunho said, still 3 fingers in me.

“What?” I asked.

“I saw you panic. You can piss yourself when you squirt, but you definitely didn’t. Trust me,” Yunho explained.

“I’m not sure I want to know how you know that,” I replied. He laughed and pulled his fingers out, wiping them on the napkin.

“I might have made a girl piss herself from coming. Or two,” he said. “And now you’re going to excuse yourself to your room and if anyone asks I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”

“And then?” I asked.

“And when dinner is over I’m going to leave the first chance I get and fuck you like you deserve,” he grinned.

“Good plan,” I agreed. I got up and the chair had a large wet spot. “Dammit.”

“I’ll make sure no one sits there. See you soon, darling,” he said.

“Not soon enough,” I replied and quickly went up to my room. It was gonna be a long night.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Hii i wanted to share my thoughts on the soulmate for Oisín Sanji if thats alright

I voted for Zoro myself (even thought honestly they would all be sweet/funny) but i think the situation with Zoro is the funniest like-

imagine all your life till this point youve been training the be the greatest swordsman of them all and you has your eyes set on this one guy all this time and also in the back of your head youre aware he has a kid thats around your age (based on the wanted posters when they stopped updating) and you see it as someone to help you get closer to your end goal

Que you becoming a pirate and later meeting this pretty asshole of a cook who you quickly become head over heels for when he shows his spark when fighting, he's your equal and you havent had that since your best friend died

And then you find out he is the kid of your rival but somehow instead of it being heartbreaking it only makes it better because even in the time you didnt know, he takes care of your swords with so much love and care, he helps you get a proper swordsman diet like he has done it a thousand times already and- he has a swordsmans soulmate mark!!!

Idk i just think zosan for this would be very funny but at the same time very sweet (love sick Zorooo 💥💥 he loves his spicy boy friend)

But i also think it would give mihawk a giant headache so thats also funny

No, no I get it. Trust me. It is the funniest option but also gives Mihawk the largest headache-especially if Zoro never connects the dots fully until they meet up on Karai Bari. BUT BEFORE THAT???

Zoro who hasn't had a decent match since Kuina died. He's had his eyes set on Hawkeye since he was a kid and joined the dojo and wanted to be the best since. Not because Hawkeye was the best then-he wasn't but everyone knew he would be and he had a kid around his age and the kid has a twirly brow with a dumb name. Then the posters stop updating and Hawkeye becomes a warlord then Kuina dies. He takes Wado and leaves to fulfill his and Kuina's dreams. He becomes a bounty hunter because he needs the money and the roads and islands keep moving on him. He keeps his eyes out for the guy around his age who could be Mihawk's kid. Then he gets tied up in a marine base and is freed by a guy who wants him to become a pirate. He agrees. They get a crew, a navigator and then a liar/sharpshooter and when they get to this fish restuarant? Sure he loses to Mihawk and gets bisected and the prettiest guy he ever saw is yelling at him to give up his dream but he doesn't die. It's fine, it's fine~. He's alive and the blond guy is hot and he can kick ass and he doesn't use swords.

Also the blond guy's name is Sanji and Zoro doesn't use his name at all. He is whatever nickname Zoro calls him in that moment. He's an equal and Zoro tells him all about his plans to find Hawkeye's kid when it's time for a rematch and draw him out to a duel, twirly always laughs at him for it, keeps saying it's a one way ticket to dying. He says it with a dopey smile though. He cares for Zoro's swords when he's on bedrest and isn't allowed to move, doing so anyway despite Chopper's protests. Also they know they're so soulmates, Zoro's whole back covered in blue and fish. Sanji's shoulder braided like the hilt of Wado Ichimonji and just as beautiful. Zoro wishes he knew what Oisín's soulmark looks like because it would be so much easier to find him.

After Sabaody when he's on Kuriagana and wishing he could have been there for his captain but he's training against his dream, with the man who holds his dream and it's good. Even if ghost girl is there and he's away from his soulmate. When he asks Mihawk where his kid is and Perona is curious because he never came to warlord meetings with the kid. Mihawk is like 'yes, that was part of the deal I made becoming a warlord, they would stop updating his bounties. As for his current location, no idea.' because he has his own dream and he's not taking his father's mantle, doesn't want it. Zoro yells that he's no help and Mihawk asks if he wants to follow suit of the people who tried to take his son before him, just because he's stronger doesn't mean he's strong enough yet. Zoro takes massive offense to this.

When they get back together and are leaving Sabaody Zoro is absolutely complaining about this to Sanji despite saying he's stronger and Sanji is laughing his ass off again. Sanji points out that Zoro seems to be overlooking the fact the kid was raised by Mihawk and Zoro grumbles and just buries into his side. Of course after WCI and Wano Sanji is prickly, even to his soulmate, even after the death pact. Zoro is absolutely never letting Sanji out of his sight again so when they go meet Mihawk and the rest of the Guild on Karai Bari the crew is nervous. Except for the monster trio and Robin.

At some point either Mihawk or Sanji slip up, it's just habit as they cook together on the Sunny since Mihawk is the only one to get along with the Straw Hat pirates. They're chatting idly and the crew is there just to make sure and Sanji points at something and is like 'hand the salt over, dad' and Mihawk just hands it over 'Oisín, you're an adult, really?' before they both pause and sigh. The crew is absolutely losing it in different ways. Nami is pissed that Mihawk wasn't there for WCI, Zoro is pissed that Sanji hid being Oisín, Luffy is laughing really fucking hard and asking Zoro how he didn't know, Chopper and Usopp are despairing. Robin hums and asks Mihawk if he knew Zoro was Sanji's soulmate and Mihawk sighs long and loud and Sanji asks if Zoro was telling him the same shit he was telling him for their whole relationship, Mihawk says yes and that Zoro is a fucking moron.

Do I also have something utterly heart breaking and wrenching for acesan in Oisín!sanji? Yes. Was this fun to write? Yes.

[harukaprism]

Distraction

Pairing:  Boothill x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ only, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, creampie.

Word Count: 1,847

Boothill was your regular, he never came to the bar unless you were working, refused to be served by anyone else. Most called it stalkerish but you found it sweet. Just like those other nights here he was at the bar in front of you drinking his whiskey. 

“Got any stories for me cowboy?” You spoke in a soft tone, not that the bar was busy or ever really loud, you knew that when he ordered the whole bottle he needed a quiet night.

“Sorry darlin’, I ain’t got nothin to tell.” To any passerby this was just how the man talked but you knew him better. 

Leaning on your elbows you got down to his level. “Your adventure didn’t go well then?” The way he looked at you was all you needed to know. “Do you need a distraction tonight or just some drinks?” 

“Drinks is what i’m cravin’ so keep them comin.” With that you straightened up and topped off his glass. You had others to attend to anyway. 

As the night drove on you kept an eye on the cyborg at the bar, he spoke nothing and didn’t cast a glance at a single soul in the establishment. This worried you, he tried to talk to the other usuals in the bar even if they just glanced at him and raised their drinks. The old man's way of saying hello. 

As the night was drawing to a close and the patrons were filtering out of the bar you walked up behind Boothill. “How are you feeling now?” 

He glanced up at you, the flush in his cheeks told you everything you needed to know, he was most definitely drunk. “Much better thanks to ya.” But his eyes told a different story, he needed something else. 

“Boothill. Is there something you want to say to me?” 

“Is that distraction still up for grabs?” His words weren’t slurred and he didn’t stumble over himself. “I need a mighty fine distraction from a beautiful dame like you.” He always flirted like this, you liked it. Most of the men who tried to hit on you at work were drunk and disgusting and just needed a quick squeeze. 

Boothill was sweet. He brought you flowers and spoke softly and sweetly, always backed off if you said no and never went farther than you allowed him to. He was everything a girl could dream of. “For you, sure. What kind of distraction are you needing?” 

His robotic eye adjusted as he watched you. “What kinda distraction are ya willin to give little ol me?”

This was a first, he was being upfront and quite frankly bold in asking for a sexual distraction. Not like it was something you would say no to, he was handsome no doubt and you wouldn’t mind a little rolling in the hay with him. But he needed to specifically ask for it in that sultry accent of his. “What are you willing to ask for?” 

Getting closer to him you allowed his twitchy hand to rest on your hip as he licked his lips. “I want ya to take me to your bed darlin’. Of course only if you want to, I ain’t the type to force myself in there.” 

“Wait for me to close then you can.” You brushed your knuckles against his cheek and the flush on his face only darkened. With that you slipped out of his grasps and made your way to the back to start your clean up. You had a fully staffed bar tonight so closing wouldn’t be hard.

After an hour the bar was finally closed and you walked out with your companion. The walk to your apartment was short and quiet. Boothill sobered up in your time apart and he seemed more coherent and alert. 

The moment you unlocked your door he was on top of you. Your back connected with the wall and his lips pressed against yours, you could feel the coldness of his metal hands gripping at your hips. It took everything inside you to not flinch at the sudden change of temperature. 

Once his tongue passed your lips you knew in that moment that it was over for you, it was warm and sweet like an aphrodisiac. Clawing at his jacket you signaled that you needed more, you had to have more. As your tongues danced in the warm embrace of your mouths the two of you stumbled your way down the hall into your bedroom. All along the way clothes were being ripped off and scattered around the floor. 

You pulled away from his lips as his fingers were inching towards your bra, focusing on his eyes you gave him a chance to catch his breath. “What’s the problem darlin’, scared to take em off?” 

You rolled your eyes as you pushed his body on your bed. “No, but I'll decide how this goes.” He watched as your fingers worked expertly, taking your bra off letting your breasts bounce ever so slightly as the stress was lifted from being held up for so long. 

The next thing that went was your lace panties, coming back up you watched as that beautiful gray and red eye tracked every movement you made, his robotic pupil shifted so much it would have made you dizzy but you decided to focus on his body. 

It never mattered to you that he was mostly robot parts, as long as he cared for you and pleased you would it ever matter? You slowly approached him, spreading his legs so you could stand between them. “Touch me.” The command was breathless and soft but he listened so beautifully.

His fingers had warmed up as they wandered your skin so it wasn’t as much of a shock as it was the first time. He knew exactly where to touch, it was like he had studied your body for years, the soft inner thighs made your legs shake as he traced up and down them, so close to your clit just a little further. 

The sudden feeling of his lips around your nipple made you whimper; how did he know that they would be so damn sensitive? Your questions slowly slipped from your brain as he finally moved his finger up to your clit drawing small circles on the little bundle of nerves. 

Everything was slow and sensual as the waves of pleasure washed through your body. Each movement of his fingers matched his tongue on your nipple. Threading your fingers into his beautiful hair you wretched him off so he could look up at you. Though he had no words, the face he was making should have just been a giant question mark. 

“I’m ready.” You whispered, watching as he moved his fingers away from your clit. They were slick and shiny, the look on his face should have scared you but you only felt your heart racing in excitement. He moved quickly laying you on your bed and dropping his boxers. 

You were not sure what to expect, a penis? Yeah sure, it wouldn’t be a normal one of course but this was not what you could have thought of. It was robotic of course but it was smoother and more fragile looking than you could have thought. 

“What is it darlin’? Not to your liking?” His tone was playful but you could sense the fear in his voice as he spoke it. How many women had he tried to be with that shamed him for what he could not control? 

Spreading your legs you let him have full access to your body. “Quite the opposite dear, I like it very much.” You sucked in your bottom lip as you watched him grasp the base of his cock guiding it to your pussy. 

Your eyes glossed over as you watched him spit right on his cock lubricating it just for you. The initial feeling of him pushing inside you made your head spin, it was so devastatingly warm and maybe a bit too big but you had to have it all inside you. Letting out a loud moan you gripped your sheets watching him. 

His thrusts started off slow, he was getting used to knowing your body and how your pussy gripped him tightly not wanting him to ever leave your body. Moans and grunts filled the room as your body’s intertwined. You didn’t know how long you had wanted this from him, how much you needed him to fill you. 

“Fuckin’ hell darlin’, this sweet pussy don’t want to let go of me.” He grunted in your ear as his fingers laced with yours on your bed. “Good thing I ain’t goin anywhere.”

Your heart raced as you let out a loud moan, the tip of his cock pressed against your gspot, he was just perfect in every way. He was caring and sweet, rough around the edges and oh so skilled with his cock. “O-Oh god Boothill!” Your orgasam was building quickly with his thrusts hammering against you in ways no man had ever done before. 

His chuckles blessed your ears as his sharp teeth brushed against the softness of your skin. “That’s right baby, scream my name. Let the neighbors hear that I fuck ya’ so good.” Each word was punctuated with his thrusts. 

Letting out a weak whimper you gripped onto his hand and his shoulder with your other hand. “Come inside me, Boothill.” 

The way his eye flashed at you made you dizzy. His hands gripped your legs and pushed them so your knees were up by your ears. This allowed him to sink his cock fully into you. 

Suddenly the tight knot in your stomach snapped, with your legs shaking wildly and your moans hitting your ceiling, you came with such a force it made you a bit light headed. This didn’t stop the man on top of you though. His thrusts kept coming though they were unorganized and sloppy he didn’t stop. 

Through all of your overstimulated moans and whines you heard him tell you to call him something, you never heard him say anything like that in that tone, but you could tell he needed it. So in a slurred voice you called out what he told you to say, repeating it over and over and over again. 

With one final thrust you felt him shudder as he came inside you, that word he told you to say screamed at the top of your lungs as he grabbed onto your body filling you to the brim. It took some time to untangle yourself from him but he made his way into your bathroom grabbing you a warm wet towel cleaning you up. 

“What did you have me say?” You spoke with a hoarse voice. 

“Dontcha worry about that darlin’.” His voice was soft and gentle as he settled in beside you. “But I appreciate ya for being willing to do it.” 

With that the two of you settled in for the night, of what would hopefully be every night now.

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: How To Rediscover Yourself, Set Boundaries, & Master Interpersonal Conflict

The beginning of a new year marks a prime time for self-reflection and resetting our intentions. Take some time and use this post as a guide to self-assess your purpose, goals, desired self-concept, and boundaries to bring confidence and self-love into 2023.

Ways To Discover Your "Why":

Start by checking out my guide on Self-Discovery & Mastering Personal Branding and doing the linked exercise (more tips here) to uncover your 'Dream Girl Archetype.'

Tips On Setting/Upholding Boundaries:

Make it about you and never about them.

Know the difference between boundaries and expectations: A boundary is about you and how you will respond to another person's actions. An expectation is the way you expect others to conduct themselves (at least in your presence/relationship). Gently bring up the behavior or actions that bother or trigger you. Communicate your boundary to them when it comes to these conversation topics or behaviors. Say "when you talk about "X" topic or do "X" behavior, I feel uncomfortable/stressed/upset and need to remove myself from the conversation (either physically, hang up the phone, stop answering texts), etc. If they're well-meaning friends, family members, partners, etc., they will respect your boundaries and know that there's an expectation in your relationship for these topics/behaviors to not come up and, if they do, be apologized for and corrected immediately (humans slip up occasionally; you will know the difference between disregard for your well-being and an honest mistake by their reaction to your calling them out).

Always use "I" statements to communicate your needs and requests: Telling people what they're doing wrong instead of how their actions make them feel automatically puts others in defense mode. So, always make sure to describe the exact words/actions/behaviors that are bothering you and how these situations make you feel. Don't personalize these actions – unless you want a negative reaction from the other person (you don't).

Make time for self-care: It's true that you can only be fully present for others when you fill up your own cup and have your needs met first. Otherwise, you're only showing up as a fraction of the person you can and strive to be. Spend time alone. Take long showers and walks. Read books, journal, draw, meditate, and watch your favorite movies or TV shows. Eat healthy meals and work out. Focus on your goals and activities that make you feel good no matter what or who else is trying to enter your mind at any time.

How To Approach Conflict:

Ask for permission to bring up a conflict: Allow the other person to consent to a less comfortable conversation. Depending on the situation, feel free to assertively ask: "X statement made me uncomfortable/offended. Can we discuss this topic/how I'm feeling for a moment?" If someone is overstepping a boundary/trying to push your limits, just say: "Hey, that statement/action crossed X boundary. I [insert boundary]. If X boundary is crossed again, I'll need to remove myself from this conversation/leave/hang up/etc. "

Always approach conflict with "I" statements: Make standing up for yourself about just that – standing up for YOURSELF. Share how you feel and why certain behaviors make you feel comfortable. Don't use language that leads with a "you" statement. Make the conversation about asserting your own needs, not the other person's actions – this will only escalate a conflict and make someone else feel attacked.

Guide your conversations using someone's behaviors/actions, and never attack someone's character during a conflict or a disagreeable conversation: (e.g. Say something like "When you say things about X group of people or topic, I get very uncomfortable or angry." You can elaborate with a reason if you feel it's necessary, but your feelings are complete and valid on their own. Don't say: "You're a close-minded/rude/unappreciative person, etc," even if you have their past actions to back this statement up. It's not a good look.)

Seek to understand, not win in conversations: Unless the person, is hostile or deliberately trying to provoke you/upset you, listen to the other person to understand their perspective before speaking. Ask them why they said an uncomfortable/offensive statement or did a certain action that left you with negative emotions. Seeing where the other person is coming from helps you better communicate with the person in the context of the situation and minimizes the chances of a conflict. In the worst-case scenario, entering these less comfortable conversations with this intention will make you appear as a mature and respected person – both to yourself and others – and keeps you in a calmer state, so you're more careful with your words and less likely to say something you regret.

[slightlyhopefulromantic]

i was gonna wait until i finished the bitd and deadlands line-ups before posting these, but i'm not gonna get those done before the final season starts, so might as well bite the bullet now XD woohoo, oxventure d&d designs! i'll go into further detail below the cut for all of my thoughts on these designs and reasoning for smaller details, but for now, just know that i will never draw a cape. i simply cannot do it. hoods and weird draped fabric or nothing XD

okay i put like. waaay too many thoughts into a lot of these small details so im gonna allow myself to geek out here X3 firstly - though they're way too small to read properly, i did the little symbol eye shines i used in my first art for them! dob gets music notes, prudence gets fire, corazón gets hearts, and merilwen gets flowers. i usually draw egbert's pupils pretty thin to resemble a reptile, so he just gets normal eye shines, but i probably could have given him some here... he would get suns if i thought of that

dob - muscular in a wiry and dehydrated way, lol, hence having a more defined stomach/hips despite not being as strong as prudence or egbert. he has sad/down-turned puppy dog eyes at all times because i think the big-eyed endearing look is fitting for him, though i do make them darker blue than his canonical baby blues because i just... like how dark blue eyes look, lol. i'm pretty sure he canonically has the stomach scar, and obviously his facial scar has always been there, but i gave him a couple other ones just to show that hes pretty reckless. and he gets freckles because even though they arent mentioned in the dragon dogma's video, i noticed luke added some and. i like freckles a lot

prudence - i've said this before, but i love the thought of pru getting muscular after the werebear bite <3 i just think she should be a little bit hench. as a treat. once again, the heavy stomach scarring comes from the dragon dogma's video, because i found their design choices in that really fun. i change prudence's outfit the most out of any of the characters, just because her canonical outfit confuses me. i'm really bad at understanding/drawing fantasy wear as is, but her fit... i'm lost entirely XD so i free-balled a bit. her inner sleeves that hook around her fingers are based on jane's various prudence looks, and then the looser outer sleeve is just because i love prudence with a dramatic sleeve. originally the colors were closer to her canon outfit, but it just looked messy without all the details of the original, and then i tried red like jane's prudence looks but it didn't contrast enough with her skin. so i restricted them to just deep purples and black with pops of gold and dark magenta!

corazón - what can i say besides. transgender. LMAO honestly though, besides adding the top surgery scars, i just really like his canon look. i simplified the details, obviously, but i really love his big coat and his tall boots and the earrings and the black-on-black-on-black of it all. i didn't particularly feel like drawing hats when i was doing this, lol, so i stuck with a red bandana instead. the beads that are strung from it are black, red, purple, green, and yellow to match their guild's canonical color associations/the colored name plates they get in later seasons :] because corazón is the sentimental sort, even when he won't say it. also he gets a little cateye for his eyeliner, i dunno if i've ever said why i do that before haha

egbert - egbert my dearly beloved. literally just his canon look except he has la vache mauve on his tunic instead of fire! and the nose spikes i give him, i guess, but i forget those aren't canon. i actually usually draw him in mike's egbert get up, with the black robes and the golden dragon sigil, but i kinda wanted to move away from that to lean more into the end of legacy of dragons, where egbert fully commits to never going back to the dragon d'or. also i just love drawing little cow heads <3 also! i like the idea that rather than typical scar tissue, dragonborns grow thicker scales over places where they've been injured. so the thicker patches of small scales on egbert's body are meant to be scars! including his kidney scar, lol. the larger scales and the ones on his face were always there though, that's just dragonborn biology baby

merilwen - if i said i based merilwen's body on cartoon bears, would you forgive me... i just think it's cute LOL tummy <3 for the final dragon dogma's video reference, that's where her freckles and tattoos come from. ellen was right, merilwen with floral tattoos fucking rules. who am i to deny it. as a hairy woman myself, i also like making merilwen a hairy woman. she's a hippie, she would NOT shave. i also really love the red earrings she wears in her canon art, so i tried to carry that through to some other small parts of my drawing for her, and landed on the bands she has on her pants as well as the odd feather for her arrows. fun archery fact, for those who may not know - in modern archery at least, you usually will have a differently colored feather (or for my arrows, rubber fins lol) that indicate how youre meant to string the arrow! so i took advantage of that to give merilwen some more red, hehe