#daily rivulet

[dailyrivulet]

Made it to a shelter just in time

[kakyogay]

I've done it

I've conquered art block and health issues

and now the moog is complete

the scrapped drawing under cut because I do still like how it was turning out it's just it was getting so exhausting working on one part just to have 50 more things to do completely out of my comfort zone

[dragoneveryday]

Day 69 (nice) - rain world reference

[daily-slugplush]

day 41: watery friend

[insaneiceshard]

Whaaaaa?? What do you meeeaaann its Rain World art month already???? Anyways.. here's day one~

[aidavaluna]

Day 1 of Drawbruary: Looks to the Moon and Ruffles enjoying a day in the Rain World

[rjptalk]

APRIL IN THE BLACKSTONE VALLEY

[morebagels]

day 11 - tuch

give him affection. boop him (non negotiable)

Posted using PostyBirb

[headspace-hotel]

today I sat on some twisted roots at the edge of a pond. you know when you sit on the roots of a tree and somehow it exactly fits your body more ergonomically than any chair devised by the human mind? that means you are supposed to sit there a while. So I did.

I found the pond in the woods a while back. I don't think hardly anyone knows about it. When I found the pond it was frozen with blue-green ice and there was snow on the ground but now it's all thawed out and little streams and rivulets run into it from the abundant rains. There is mud everywhere so your boots go SPLICK-SPLICK-SPLICK as you walk along the streams, but the water itself is cold clear water with dead leaves of winter drifting around, lapping at the silty banks where the mud became deposited.

Where the biggest stream reaches the pond there is a nice deep pool, a piscine antechamber to the main pond, with the strong roots of a tree separating it from the bigger expanse of water. I watched the little riffles billowing up silently from the turbulence beneath the surface.

If you are silent and still in the woods, the birds will slowly resume going about their daily business, and you will realize what a metropolis of bird activity the treetops are. Three titmice arrived and hopped about amidst the thickets of holly, maple and beech, going up and down the trunks and pecking at leaves. A male and female cardinal (husband and wife, I thought...how romantic for valentine's day) rustled in the leaf litter near the bank. Woodpeckers started rattling their beaks on standing deadwood, and a particularly clear, musical birdsong rang out for a while, over and over. It seemed really familiar, but I couldn't think what it was.

One of the titmice landed on a small tree some ten meters away from me, and I thought he must be unaware of me, but then he flew even closer, landing on the branch of a sapling not even five meters away. He fixed me so sharply with one flashing black eye and then the other (as if each of his eyes, positioned on the sides of his head as they were, needed at least one good look apiece) that I felt his intelligence and curiosity. "Hello there Titmouse," I said, out loud; the bird was unbothered to hear me speak, and just continued investigating me with his bright little gaze for a few more seconds before flying away.

[toshidou]

hea r me out ,,, sub ghost ,,,,

oh anon, how i love you

word count // 1.3k

tags // 18+ only, sub!ghost, dom!reader, rope, handcuffs, vibrator wand, ghost calls reader mommy and it nearly kills him and his pride but he did it (proud of him), face sitting, cunnilingus, hair pulling, multiple orgasms (from simon, lucky boy)

Simon Riley is not a man who gets the opportunity to let go very often, if in fact at all. He knows what’s expected of him, whether it be the stern, serious lieutenant, or the Ghost, a mere myth to military personnel all over the globe. He knows the role he’s been assigned, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t go above and beyond the expectations set for him. 

He once foolishly thought that he was a man who could cheat his own biology, somehow convincing himself that he could outrun the stress and near debilitating exhaustion. That was until you offered him a rather different solution. An arrangement that worked well for both of you, he remembers you saying. You weren’t wrong. Which is how he finds himself handcuffed to the metal bars of your bed frame; Hitachi wand tied against the entire length of his cock. 

“I wonder what your enemies would think if they saw you like this, hm?” Your voice cuts through the fog in his head, forcing his blurred sight to clear just so he could drink in the vision before him. You sit on the end of the bed, maddeningly far from where his body lays prone on the sheets, watching him with wicked eyes as he jolts when the tip of the vibrating wand presses firmly against his frenulum. 

“Going to cum on your pretty stomach for me again, baby?” He doesn’t miss the taunt in your voice, trying to hide the way his cock twitches pathetically at your condescending tone, unable to do anything but part his lips and moan. Being vulnerable was not something he ever thought could come this naturally to him, but something about you made it so easy for Simon to just forget about his place in the world, about the near back breaking burden he carries on his broad shoulders on a daily basis. You help him feel free, by taking away that burden and replacing it with blinding pleasure; all he had to do in return was give you his submission. It was the easiest choice he’s made in a long time. 

“Use your words big boy, I know it’s a lot, but I need you to be a good boy for me, okay?”

“Yeah, fuck, ‘m sorry,” he doesn’t miss the fond gleam to your eye, nor the hand that slides from his knee down to his upper thigh, hissing through his teeth when your touch causes his leg to twitch, jolting the vibrator against his cock, “‘s too much, gonna go fuckin’ insane.”

You hum in response, lidded eyes molten with lust come to rest on the flushed red tip of his cock, pearlescent beads of precum dripping in rivulets down his veined shaft, straining against the rope that secures it to the wand. 

“You mean to tell me that my big strong soldier can’t handle a little vibration?” Any response he has dies in his throat the moment you flick the tip of his cock, shame seeping through his veins when he realises that he just fucking came. Again. He doesn’t know if he wants your mercy, or more, but his dick apparently makes that decision for him, still painfully hard where it lays twitching like a heartbeat against his abdomen. 

“Please,” He grits out, eyes shining with tears formed through over-stimulation, “Please turn it off,” but glassy eyes only serve to widen the grin that stretches so prettily across your face. 

“Please who, Simon?” Oh god. His head droops, chin meeting his chest as he debates whether taking the near torturous, incessant pleasure would be easier than dropping the last of his pride, the last barrier to full submission you haven’t quite been able to squeeze from his stubborn brain. The debate, however, is short lived, cut off by the click of a button and strangled shout as the vibrations kick up a notch, doubling his previous torment. 

“Please mommy, please fuckin’ turn it off, God,” The momentary humiliation dissipates the moment he locks eyes with you, chest heaving with relief as the wand is finally switched off. You look near predatory, pupils dilated so heavily not a shred of colour remains, sharp nails digging so deliciously into the meat of his thigh as you use him as leverage to kneel over his wrecked body. 

“There we go, was that so hard sweetheart?” He nearly preens under your pleased gaze, going near dizzy with how quickly he finds himself sinking under your dominance. It’s nothing like the authority he’s used to wielding, harsh and unforgiving; you control him as easily as one does a puppet, with precision and grace. And he’s fucking obsessed with it, obsessed with you. 

“Want mommy to sit on your face, darling?” You must instantly catch the way he’s eyes widen, how his arms strain against the metal bonds above his head.

“Yes fucking please,” he rasps, saliva quick to settle heavily on his tongue at the mere thought of you seated so prettily on top of his mouth, unable to think of anything other than making you cum on his tongue. He’s practically panting by the time you come to straddle your legs either side of his head, unfocused eyes darting between your face, and glistening folds, so desperately eager to have the taste of you coat his tongue, his lips, his chin, marked so clearly as yours. 

“What’s the magic word again, baby boy?” 

The reply comes so much easier this time. 

“Let me eat you out, mommy, please, I’ll beg if I fuckin’ ‘ave to, just-” Clearly you weren’t interested in hearing anything else he had to say, cutting him off by lowering the rest of your body to met his mouth and rewarding him with the sweet taste of your cunt. He’s sinking deeper, he’s just barely aware of the feeling of pure emptiness and bliss that rolls over his consciousness, no thoughts in his brain other than pleasing you. His tongue laps in strong, desperate strokes against your pussy, collecting every drop of your arousal and swallowing it down like he’s a man starved, as if you were an oasis amidst a barren desert. 

He’s rewarded with your hands forming a tight grip in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp in a way that has his hips lifting off the mattress, groaning as he feels the way his biceps flex against solid restraints, desperate to sink his fingers into the soft warm plush of your skin. 

“Doing so fucking well, making me feel so good Simon,” Saccharine words sooth his addled mind, forcing himself to stay afloat just so he can watch the way you begin to fall apart atop him, hips canting against his mouth as you start to ride his tongue with earnest. You barely cast a glance down at him, as if the only thing you care about is chasing the pleasure that lies beneath you. And it really shouldn’t turn him on, the idea that he’s nothing but a vessel for your pleasure, but it really fucking does. 

It only takes a mere minute or two until you’re falling apart above him, your walls spasming around his tongue, thoroughly drenching his face and throat with your cum. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your twitching pussy until you’re dragging your hips from his face, revelling in the frustrated and disappointed whine that slips from his arousal slicked lips. 

“No need to sound so sad, baby, I’ve got a lot more planned for us tonight. So be a good fucking boy and let mommy ride your cock until she’s had her fill.” 

Letting go may not have come easily to Simon, but with you, it’s as natural as breathing.

[dailyrivulet]

Me and my best friend where playing multiplayer and randomly they vomited up a bomb as saint- and something about saint having a bomb is horrifying to me in particular.

[dailyscug]

Request for ???, Rivulet doing a sick backflip? Maybe over Moon?

i was gonna draw moon and even color this but i swear if i keep goingill lose my mind i reached my daily adobe flash usage cap

[deepouterspacecandy]

Whispering Pines: Part Two

Coming at you with an extremely fluffy second chapter, but as always, it’s 18+ only over here. Thank you so much for the comments and support so far. It elevates the writing experience for me to know my mushy heart is welcomed.

Abby sprints with all her might towards the shore, the sound of her pounding footsteps and ecstatic shouts causing birds and squirrels to scatter from their branches. The sheer happiness radiating from her is contagious, and the sight of the water crashing around her powerful body makes your cheeks sting.

Without hesitation, she plunges headfirst into the lake, disappearing into its depths. Your heart races until she finally emerges.

She is much farther out than you would ever venture to swim, and you fight the urge to shout for her to come back.

In moments like these, you appreciate the diligent, daily perimeter scans that ensure the infected stay at a safe distance. You hope desperately that no curious soldiers wander through the trees and spot you standing completely exposed, yearning for their commander who is frolicking in the nearby lake.

Your toes are the first to touch the freezing water, and the intense heat makes it feel so cold that you hesitate to go further than your knees. Goosebumps rise on your sun-warmed skin as you wrap your arms around yourself, unable to control the laughter welling up in your throat.    

With the surveillance of a shark, Abby notices your reluctance and effortlessly swims a mere four feet away from where you stand quivering like an arrow in the wind.

A mischievous spark dances in her eyes, highlighted by the spirited quirk of her brow.

“What are you doing? Abby,” you warn. You raise your palms, bracing yourself for the impending strike. “Don’t you dare!”

“The water is so nice,” she says.

“I swear to God, if you pull me in—”

“Come here,” Abby purrs, reaching for you. Water flows down her glistening arms in spine-tingling rivulets. “Are you really going to leave me all alone out here?”

You deftly evade her slow advances, finding yourself unexpectedly waist-deep in the water. She’s a smart and tactical woman, and the way she beckons for you to move toward her makes your insides twist.

“Oh, put that lip away,” you say, letting out a squeak as you stumble in a slightly deeper section of the lake, desperately trying to regain stability and make your way towards the shore. “You better back up—I swear I’ll take you down!”

The compliant and submissive attitude she had been trying to lure you in with suddenly evaporates, shifting into sheer, unrestrained determination.

She revels in the thrill of a challenge. You should’ve known better.

“Oh crap,” you blurt. “Please don’t. Please!”

“Begging doesn’t get you very far with me, either,” she smirks. “What’s your next move, hotshot?”

The sun’s reflection off her freckled skin is so radiant that it stuns you, as if a star has suddenly exploded into ethereal sand. Against her imposing form, you adjust your position into a fighting stance, attempting to appear more formidable than you feel.

The moment you decide to go toe to toe with her, a spark ignites, and she drifts closer to you.

“You’re too cute to scare me. Sorry to disappoint.”

Her banter is leaving you tongue-tied as your shoulders slump in defeat. She comes to an abrupt halt, an inch away from your shivering frame.

You were prepared to resign yourself to the inevitable, but she’s allowing you to determine the outcome instead.

The way she has gently motivated you to tread outside your comfort zone without compromising your sense of security is liberating. It’s been a while since you’ve experienced such a profound sense of autonomy.

“I’m just psyched that you finally notice me,” you say.

Her tone shifts into something tremendously genuine as she studies you.

“You think I haven’t noticed you before now?” she asks, gnawing at the inside of her cheek. “I see you.”

Bitten by the cold water, Abby’s nipples are hard against her breasts, and you quickly glance away when you catch yourself looking at her. The proximity to her chiseled body escalates the collision of shame and vulnerability, leaving you more naked in this lake than your own birthday suit.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be,” Abby murmurs. “You can look. I don’t mind.”

You lock eyes with hers, and she grins, taking a confident step back to give you a clear view. As you hesitate, the rapid beats of your heart boom like a kick drum.

Right when you gather the courage to take her bare features in, she cleverly exploits the diversion and pulls you into the water.

You come up sputtering, the cold stealing your breath and purging your worries.

“I hate you so much!”

With a joyful laugh, Abby dives backward, narrowly escaping the colossal wave you’re preparing to unleash in her direction. She abstains from venturing as far into the lake as she previously did, and being so close to her, the water’s chill becomes more bearable.  

“Are you a strong swimmer?” she asks.

“I mean, I’m decent at not drowning.”

“Think you can reach that?”

She gestures towards a fragmented section of the dock that has become detached from its pathway and now floats aimlessly on the surface.

The water is so pristine that you can easily see the pebbles and plants at the bottom. You know very well the slimy texture of fish and the spookiness of waterlogged plants as they touch your ankles. It gives you the creeps, even though you’re trying to make a good impression.

“I’ll probably freak the hell out if something touches me, but I’ll give it a shot.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it. I’ll protect you from the big-bad rainbow trout.”

The sight of Abby’s pink tongue poking out at you triggers a fleeting desire to kiss it, leaving you lightheaded.

“You’re so brave,” you say, heavily laced with sarcasm. “Wanna share some of that ego, or are you going to keep it all to yourself?”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

----------------------------------------

Abby chops wood with meticulous precision, each swing of her axe splitting the round with a single, clean strike. The force of the blade sends wood chips flying in all directions, with a few pieces sticking to the bottom of her pants.

It’s a spectacle to behold as she wipes her forehead with her sleeves, then proceeds to roll them up, her swollen veins climbing from her muscular hands like vines.

“That smells good,” you say.

Abby pauses, flashing a smile at you. The axe hangs from her grip with such ease that it appears weightless at her side.

“You dig the smell of cedar, huh?” she says. With the toe of her boot, Abby nudges the mound of wood chips into a tighter pile. “I like it too—I’d stay out here forever if I could. Build myself a log house that smells just like this all the time.”

“Would it have a porch?”

With the blade resting between her boots, she contemplates, alternating the handle between her hands before leaning her weight on the axe like a walking stick.

“Do you think it should have one?” she asks.

You picture Abby’s dirty hands, decorated with thin, red scratches and rough callouses after building a home from the ground up, as she sips tea from a mug and watches the sun go down.

“Definitely. How else will you watch the sunset?”

As she looks up, her long lashes catch the light, her muscles rippling as she counterbalances against the axe handle. You feel a pleasant warmth enveloping you as she pores over your suggestion.

“We’d need a couple of rocking chairs then,” Abby says. “Maybe a table to play cards. I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

When she suddenly includes you in her vision, a wave of flutters spills from your ribs and into your belly.

“Oh god, I suck at card games,” you giggle.

“I’m a good teacher,” she says. “You’d be wiping the floor with me in no time.”

With her arms full of freshly chopped wood, Abby walks over to place the stack beside you, providing the final element to cook your lunch. She watches you work, entranced by the flickering flames as you build them into a pit of roaring fire.

As the flames dance higher, you add a handful of fragrant pinecones from your backpack, filling the air with the burn of citrus and earth.

With a contented hum, Abby tilts her head back and immerses herself in the aroma.

“Speaking of teaching,” you say. “What got you into planning these events?”

Leaning back on her arms, she crosses her feet at the ankle, her boot laces slowly coming undone as she sways them.

“My dad,” Abby explains, as tenderness seeps into her voice, a touch of sadness tinging her words. “He was super into the community thing, you know? Making everyone feel like part of a team and stuff—he really wanted to bring people together.”

“The world needs more of that.”

Abby lets out an exasperated sigh, nodding in agreement.

“Man, he would’ve hated it here,” she says.

“With the wolves, you mean?”

Abby grabs your bag and slides it over to use as a pillow. She rests on her back, hands folded on her chest, seeming to lose herself in the spectacle of the passing clouds. It’s clear that discussing her father is a delicate matter, and you completely understand her decision to shift the conversation.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” Abby asks, with her gaze fixed on the sky. She absentmindedly nibbles on the dry skin of her bottom lip. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay—um. It crosses my mind sometimes,” you confess. “I’m not sure where I’d go, exactly. But I wonder what else is out there. If maybe there are some normal towns with regular people who aren’t killing each other every other day.”

When Abby turns her head to look at you, you’re immediately captivated by how receptive she looks. Is Isaac’s beloved cavalry leader weighing the prospect of leaving everything behind?

“What would you do if you found one?”

“I’d probably get a cat,” you say, using your hand to block the sun as it filters through the trees. “They’re so soft and they keep your feet warm at night.”

Abby’s laughter escapes her in velvety puffs.

She shares a scandalous story about Manny, recounting a time when he was fooling around with one of his girls in a hidden location away from the FOB. Amid getting down to business, a cat unexpectedly jumped through the window and onto the mattress, startling him so badly that he leapt out of bed and ran naked down the hallway.

The woman he was with at the time berated him relentlessly, emphasizing the danger of encountering an attacker or an undead creature. She blamed him for deserting her in a potentially life-threatening situation.

Following that enlightening incident, they decided to keep their relationship strictly platonic.

“I’m totally keeping that one in my back pocket,” you say.

“Plenty more where that came from,” Abby says, interrupting her disclosure of Manny’s secrets to quench her thirst with a swig from her canteen.

“Manny has interesting taste in women,” you say.

“He was sure head over heels for you, though.”

Abby fusses with a splinter on her thumb, a small, satisfied grin playing on her lips.

“He was not!”

“Oh, big time,” she says, your response seeming to trigger her penchant for teasing. “He thought you were into him, too, for a bit—always following him around.”

As you think back to your early friendship with Manny, you remember how uncertain and undefined your relationship was before you clarified you weren’t interested romantically. His kindness was clear from the start, even before he fully grasped the reason behind your lack of reciprocation.

The knowledge that Abby was aware of your existence during that time, even in some trivial way, excites you.

“Maybe I was hoping to run into someone else.”

As Abby considers the notion, she unconsciously drags the cap of her canteen across her lips. Before taking another sip, she smiles at you, her head tipped back, revealing the enticing flex of her throat as she swallows.

“You know what?” Abby says. “I really like when you flirt with me.”

The boldness that has been emerging as you come out of your shell collides with the shy warmth spreading across the bridge of your nose.

“You do?”

“I think I’m a little jealous of Manny, actually.”

“He tried to kiss me once,” you say, giggling as Abby’s eyebrows nearly fly off her face in astonishment. “A perfect gentleman, but he still got a face full of my hair.”

Intrigued, she leans forward, encouraging you to delve deeper into the story.

“Yeah—they roped me into spin the bottle,” you continue. As you run your fingernail along the firestick, the last bits of bark spiral away, leaving behind a polished wood finish. “Do you remember when everyone thought that was a good idea? Before it turned into a relationship destroyer.”

“I forgot about that,” Abby laughs. “Isaac shut that shit down so fast. I didn’t make it to any of the parties, really.”

If Abby had attended, that ridiculous game would have received a much higher rating from you, that’s for sure.

“Did you want to be there?” you ask.

She tells you about Isaac’s efforts to shape her into a skilled assassin. How it resulted in her growing apart from Manny and her closest companions during that time. He prioritized her duties as a soldier, taking advantage of both her trauma and her unwavering discipline.

“I didn’t really know where I belonged, you know? We all got along, but I was going through something, and it changed me. It was probably weird to watch me climb the ranks so fast on top of it. I mostly kept to myself between assignments.”

Isaac, as usual, manipulated the situation to his benefit. Hearing about the ways he fractured their relationships is painful, as he seemed to have kept them at a distance while still prospering from their loyalty.

Every little thing she sacrificed to be a protector and a cog in Isaac’s machine brings forth an undeniable twinge of sadness. It echoes through the chambers of your heart.

Adolescent games paled in comparison to the plethora of experiences Abby must’ve missed out on.

“You deserved better,” you say, your voice a gentle hush. “Still do.”

You grab another handful of pinecones and pass one to her.

It’s a work of art, uniform and unblemished. A testament to nature’s elegance. Abby rolls it between her palms with care, treating the overlapping scales as if they are delicate glass.  

“How are you so pretty?” you ask breathlessly.

When Abby’s gaze meets yours, it’s like the gate to her cage has swung open, granting her the freedom to roam the boundless forest.    

“Where were you when I was young?” she asks.

The raw sincerity in her query finds you longing to comfort her.

You stoke the fire with the gnarled branch, ensuring that the glowing embers stay contained within the pit to reduce the chance of it spreading. Seattle can only handle one forest fire at a time, and the inferno crackling beneath your skin shows no signs of abating.

“I guess I was busy perfecting my cooking prowess,” you say. “Are you hungry yet?”

“Starved,” she says.

----------------------------------------

Abby’s creativity blossoms when she’s well-fed, and in a matter of hours, you’ve made significant progress together, working on her project.

The breadth of her abilities alone is enough to inspire anyone—but observing her as she skillfully exercises her talents in an exhibition of physical strength turns your knees to jelly.

Whether it’s the consequence of too much sun or falling hard for Abby, you’re exhausted, and the sun hasn’t even started to go down.

Cognizant of your struggle with the knot she previously taught you; Abby quietly approaches from behind to assist you again.

“You’re so close,” she says, sidling her front up against your back. You feel her breath on the nape of your neck, dropping onto your collarbone. “Can I?”

Below your own, Abby’s hands hover, patiently seeking permission to become your shadow, guiding the cord around your fingertips.

You nod, and she presses closer to you, her hair tickling your shoulder as she rests her chin there. Her support enables you to acclimate to the unfamiliar movements, the delightful fragrance of her skin simply a gratuity you get to enjoy in the meantime.

“Is this how you always teach?” you ask.

With a short-winded chuckle, you feel her shake her head.

“Never,” she says. “This is only for you.”

[moonbeamwritings]

adventures in braiding

wc: 1.6k

pairing: gyro x gn!reader (and i guess gyro x johnny x reader if you squint)

warnings: none

“It’s so hot out,” Gyro complains, wiping sweat from his brow. “Are you guys not hot?”

“It’s hot as hell, Gyro. Stop complaining,” Johnny chimes in, tugging his hat from his head and tucking it into his saddle bag. “You’re not the only one sweating your ass off.”

Gyro slows Valkyrie to a stop and groans. “I need to take a break.”

He bonelessly slides off his horse and as soon as his feet hit the sand, he takes a long swig from his canteen. You watch as sweat glistens on his brow, water tipping past his lips and sliding down his chin and along his neck. More than just the sun heats the surface of your cheeks, and you find yourself following a rivulet of water as it creeps down the column of his throat and beneath the collar of his shirt.

Seemingly dissatisfied with how the water cools him off, Gyro moves to duck under a nearby rock ledge for some shade, and judging by the way he grimaces, the rocks do little to shield him from the heat.

“We can’t stay long,” you warn him. “If we want to make it to the checkpoint by tomorrow afternoon, we’re gonna have to keep moving.”

Gyro waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Just-” Gyro takes another huge gulp from his canteen and sighs. “Give me a minute.”

You watch as he pulls his hat from his head to fan his face, and annoyance washes over his features when it doesn’t immediately work to cool him down. Disgruntled, he tosses it onto the sand and then moves to pull at his hair, lifting it up and down to fan it over the back of his neck.

The movement gives you an idea. Digging through your saddle bag, you find a length of hot pink ribbon you’d taken from the last checkpoint. You don’t remember what compelled you to keep it, but you’re glad to have it now — if only to quell Gyro’s complaints.

You dismount, and join Gyro under his little rock awning. 

“I have an idea that might help. Do you mind if I try it?”

“God, I’d do anything.”

You crowd the space beside him and force him to turn away from you with firm hands on his shoulders, and when his back is to you, you set to work combing your fingers through his hair to ease some of the tangles. When you’re satisfied with how silky it is, you separate it into three sections. Delicately, you weave the hair together into a neat braid, and for the first time all afternoon, Gyro falls silent. As the braid comes to an end you pull the ribbon out to secure it in place, finally moving it over his shoulder and off the back of his neck. 

With his hair out of the way, Gyro lets out a long, pleased sigh as if you’ve just relieved him of a heavy burden. “What would I do without you?”

Emerging from the rocks with renewed spirits, Gyro bends to pick up his hat and straightens his back with a proud hand on his hip. Before mounting his horse again, he fixes his hat into place and fiddles with the ends of his hair, a smug smile tugging at his lips. Squinting in the sun, he asks, “How do I look?”

His cheek is sticky and warm beneath your palm when you move to pat it. You don’t miss the way he leans further into your touch. “You look very pretty, Gyro. Now, are you ready to go?”

“Mhm.”

“Finally,” Johnny groans from behind you, snapping Gyro out of his revelry.

“Do you have to complain about everything?”

“Me?”

The bickering doesn’t stop until well after the sun goes down.

You’ve created a monster.

In the days after, Gyro seems hellbent on incorporating the hairstyle into his daily routine. Every morning, after he’s washed up a little and brushed his teeth, Gyro drags the ribbon between his fingertips and fixes you with this sheepish, almost shy look, so unlike him you can’t help but laugh.

“You want me to fix your hair again?”

He presses the ribbon into your palm then, splaying his hair along his shoulders and dropping into a chair or onto the ground, waiting expectantly for you to braid his hair. And every time, you click your tongue and scoff good-naturedly, teasing him for being so high maintenance, even as you begin to comb your fingers through his pretty blond hair.

Sometimes in the afternoon when you stop to eat, he’ll ask you to tie it again. It needs to stay out of his face when he eats, you know. And you’re more than happy to oblige, setting your silverware aside to collect his hair in your hands. You’ll braid it, or tie it up in a ponytail, sometimes even twisting it into a low bun before digging into your food.

Johnny rolls his eyes more than once at the obvious (but apparently not so obvious to the two of you) display of affection, grumbling under his breath about you two needing to get a room already.

Gyro’s smile is smug when he tells Johnny, “You’re just jealous you don’t have a pretty thing like this playing with your hair.”

It’s a comment meant to get under the other man’s skin, and it does... every time, but you can’t help the way your cheeks light up with its implications. There’s a reason you’re so quick to fix Gyro’s hair, to do anything he asks really, and you suspect it has something to do with the handsome way Gyro smiles or the soft sparkle in his eyes when he’s pleased with the way his hair looks.

The air between you starts to change one night, now weeks after the first braiding incident. Weeks spent playing with Gyro’s hair or sitting close to him at meals or resting on his shoulder during downtime. Johnny had turned in an hour earlier, you and Gyro opting to stay up and savor the dwindling embers of the fire, enjoying the comfortable silence settling between you. The moon hangs high in the sky and a chill works its way through the air, cooling your overheated skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Gyro pick at the skin of his fingers.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

His fingers stop, a sheepish smile overtaking his features. “I was just thinking...”

“About?” You press, nudging your shoulder into his.

“Well, I was wondering,” he scoffs like even the thought of the words leaving his mouth is silly, “if you could teach me how to braid. I always get so happy when you do it for me, and I just...” He fixes you with a soft gaze, his expression bathed in moonlight. “I want to return the favor.”

“I-” you can’t even get your words out without smiling, the tips of your ears growing warm as you think it over. “I would like that.”

“Well, you’re the expert.” He unties the ribbon from his own hair and gently holds it in the space between you. “Teach me your ways.”

Just as you had done all those weeks ago, and just as you instruct, Gyro crowds the space behind you; his long legs sitting on either side of your hips. You walk him through the process: separate the hair into three even sections, cross an outside section over the middle and let it sit, repeat it on the opposite side, and keep going until you reach the ends.

He mumbles the steps to himself over and over again as he goes, and you smile to yourself as you imagine his brow furrowed in concentration, lip jutted out into a pout as he thinks.

The braid isn’t perfect, not by any means, and by the time he’s done (after starting and restarting more than once), the fire has long since burnt out. The moon acts as the only light to guide him as he ties the ribbon around the ends of your hair.

“I- It’s done,” he pauses, running his fingers over the braid. “I think, anyway.”

You reach behind you to feel it, and find that it’s a little bumpy, a little imperfect, but you adore it all the same. He’d tried, and that’s what matters. The thought makes your heart feel fuzzy in your chest.

“I love it. Thank you.”

“You can’t even see it.” He argues, a pout on his lips.

You turn to look at him and cup his cheek. “I can just tell it’s beautiful, and besides,” you pinch the apple of it as you assure him, “practice makes perfect, right?”

You catch moonlight and adoration in the green hues of his eyes, and as silence falls between you, you find yourself twisting so you can lean closer. You’re just about there, your lips almost on his, when Johnny pipes in, sleep evident in his annoyed tone. “Are you done? Can you please go to bed now?”

With the moment entirely shattered, Gyro affectionately rolls his eyes and pecks your cheek, fingers running over the end of your braid before he moves to stand. “Goodnight, sweets.”

He smirks, and on his way back to his bed roll, kneels down to plant a wet smack against Johnny’s cheek. Tone dripping with a teasing singsong, he says,  “Goodnight Johnny.”

Johnny grumbles an “I hate you” as he rolls over and tucks himself further into his blanket.

These two, you think as you settle under your own blankets. That night, you fall asleep with a braid in your hair and a smile on your face.

[slaasherslut]

BILLY LENZ NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I'm sorry to say that if you're looking for some prime aftercare after being fucked for hours, you probably wont be getting it here. The closest you’ll get to softness is a warm shower together after you've both regained feeling in your limbs or cuddling up and falling asleep next to each other. Usually by the time you wake up Billy is long gone. There have been a few times where he's left clothes behind and you're still not sure if it was an accident or on purpose.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Billy's favourite body parts of his are his hands and his cock, for a lot of obvious reasons. He loves his hands because they make him feel powerful. Those hands have taken many lives and will continue to take many more. He sees what he's done as a necessary task, and his hands help him carry out those tasks. They cause pain but they also cause pleasure. He loves seeing you writhing underneath him because of his fingers and his rough squeezing. He loves getting you off over and over again with his long fingers and even longer cock. He loves that both parts of him can make you go absolutely fucking stupid.

When it comes to you, Billy loves your thighs and any hole you'd let him fuck but that second one is pretty obvious and for obvious reasons. He loves treating those holes like a toy made just for him to ravage and fill. He is an obsessive man and he thinks about fucking those holes daily. You're on his mind all day... He loves to mark up your thighs while he fucks you. Hickeys and bite marks on your neck are one thing, but on your thighs? There is no doubt in anyone's mind that you're claimed and are getting off. He loves to lay harsh spanks on the soft flesh, bruise you up, leaving hand prints in their wake. He'll also have a tendency to scratch them up when hes feeling really good or close to cumming. He'll give you bright red swollen scratch marks with small rivulets of crimson dripping down which he loves to lick up and taste. If Billy ever sees you wearing shorts around the house and his marks on you are visible he would giggle to himself. He would absolutely lose it if you wore shorts out and about though. Holy fuck this man would cum in his pants to the idea of you showing any man passing you by that you're his without outwardly saying the words.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

If you asked Billy when you looked the most beautiful, he would say it was the moment after he covers you face in his thick cum. He thinks you look lovely struggling to not get any in your eyes and licking your lips to get one final taste of him. Pretty little piggy.. He also loves filling you up. It's one of the ways he claims you as his. He fills you over and over again until you're leaking with his seed. He can't get enough of the look on your face when you feel so full of him.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Billy is an underwear thief and you can't change my mind about this. You're constantly discovering your underwear going missing. You kept thinking maybe they got left in the washer or dryer and one of the other girls scooped them up when they did their own laundry. Whenever you asked them about it they had never seen them. Billy always has a pair of your used underwear in his pocket. He loves nothing more than to call the house and jerk off while screaming obscenities and inhaling your scent. When he's jerking off alone he will often shove them in his mouth and let his long wet tongue swirl around them. He loves taking your freshly used panties out of the laundry basket and lap at the panties with his tongue. Bonus points for him if you recently came while wearing them. The taste of your cum on the fabric makes him cum so hard. One night while laying in bed you had fingered yourself and quickly fell asleep, you didn't even have time to clean up. Billy had snuck into your room while you were sleeping and stole your panties right off your body.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's not very experienced at all. The conversation was never had but you wouldn't be surprised if he was a virgin before meeting you. You're just lucky that in his greedy need to fuck you that he hits all the right spots inside you to make your thighs shake.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggystyle - This position is perfect for him because he can pretty much fuck you as hard and as fast as he wants without having to hear you whine “you're thrusting too hard” or “Billy slow down it hurts”. He will press your face into your pillow and practically suffocate you while he's thrusting hard into you. The sounds of your incoherent babbling and sweaty skin thrashing against sweaty skin filling the room.

Breeding Press - Billy loves this position because he can see literally everything. In a lot of other positions bodies and limbs get in the way. But when he puts you in a breeding press he can see every inch of his thick cock sliding inside of you and it just makes you feel even tighter which drives him wild. He will literally drool as he watches your wet hole just sucking him in and squeezing him tight. He’ll cum inside you and watch it all leak out before scooping up his cum with his fingers before shoving it back inside of you. He’ll finger you hard and make you gush on his fingers before pulling them out and making you lick the mix of both of your pleasure off of him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

For the most part Billy is more serious in bed. He might crack a joke or two just to hear you laugh and feel the way you tighten around him when you do so. But for the most part he's serious about wanting to get the both of you off. Any humour would come from his lack of filter when it comes to his dirty talk. Sometimes he just goes so wild that some things he says might come out a little silly. 

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

I don't think he's super well maintained. If he was with you and you requested it he would probably get you to help him trim his hair. Otherwise he would just let it grow. The hair would be dark brown, fluffy and incredibly curly, much like the soft hair on his head only much more coarse.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

If you're looking for romance, I'm sorry but you won't find it here. Billy can be a bit of a romantic and do sweet things for you throughout your relationship but to him the bedroom isn't a place for that. the most romantic thing you'll get out of him is a growled "I love you" as hes coming deep inside you or as hes looking down at your cum covered body.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

We all know the kind of man he is, if he doesn't have a hole to fuck he will jerk himself raw while imagining it. He loves to jerk off over your pillow or into your panties, little reminders of himself throughout your things. He'll also lock himself away in the attic to pull on his painfully hard cock while he thinks of you. If hes alone in the house he will be loud as hell. Moaning, whimpering, talking to himself. He would let out the most animalistic moan when he finally bursts. If the house is full however, he will be forced to cover his mouth while he jerks off. Whimpering and crying behind his hand because he wants to be louder, he wants you to hear him cumming for you. If he just recently stole some of your panties though he will gag himself with them and jerk his cock like a touch starved man.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Billy is a huge voyeur. He loves to watching you undress in your room. When he first laid eyes on you he found himself sneaking into your closet to just watch you. Whether you're doing anything sexual or not didn't matter to him. The fact that his eyes were on you while you were blissfully unaware made blood rush to his cock. The times you would undress in front of his prying eyes would make him giddy with excitement. The few times he caught you playing with yourself while he watched he almost lost his mind. He wanted nothing more than to burst out of your closet and pound you into the sheets but he knew if he did that he would get caught. He settled for watching your hands dance across your body while he did his best to cum with you.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His favourite place to fuck you is in your bedroom. He knows that its the one place where you two wont be interrupted. He can have his way with you however he wants and however long he wants.

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

I think a better question is "what doesn't get him going?" Any outfit that shows skin makes him drool. What drives him absolutely wild though is the few times you guys have vulgar phone sex. You know hes nearby and probably watching you anyways so you put on a show for him. Your free hand ghosting, pulling your shirt up above your chest, fingers sliding in and out of you. Your words really get him going. When you're together you don't really get a word in cause hes doing all the talking, but on the phone he gets to hear everything you wanna do to him and he absolutely loses his mind over you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Something he refuses to do is share. He refuses to let another man other than himself lay their hands on you. He has staked his claim on your mind and body since the first time he heard your voice and he will never leave you. He also has the mentality of “If i can't have her, no one will”, so you better not refuse him cause Billy don't like that or take no for an answer.

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

I won't go too deep into detail since I made a post for hcs relating to oral that you can find here. But let's just say Billy is a messy eater, and so very loud.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Billy doesn't know the meaning of the words ‘slow’ and ‘sensual’. He doesn't have sex to show his partner love. Making love isn't something he's ever done or will ever do. Sex for him is purely primal. A way for both him and his partner to either release sexual tension or to breed. He’ll fuck you slower if it gets a reaction out of you that he likes a lot but it isn't sweet in the slightest. He’ll be spilling the same kind of vile phrases like he doesn't when he fucks you fast. He will laugh and say something like “I'm barely moving and you can't even handle it!” 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He likes quickies but they're not his favourite. He prefers to take his time and ravage you but sometimes that out of the question. Living in a sorority house, there's always people coming and going. Not to mention that you're quite busy with uni. Sometimes his hand just isn't enough when he knows you're right below him and sneaks down to your room to give you a quick fuck before retreating.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Billy will always be down to try something new if he thinks either of you will enjoy it. Getting each other off in new ways is always so exciting to him. Being a huge voyeur he loves the thrill of almost being caught. If someone knocks on your door he'll make you answer them, or talk on the phone while his fingers are working themselves deep inside you. He'll make you cum on the kitchen counter right as someone else in the house is getting home. He loves the look of fear in your eyes when you get worried the two of you are going to get caught.

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

Sex with Billy is great because he doesn't finish too fast and disappoint you but he also doesn't last so long that you get bored, hes a happy medium when it comes to how long it takes for him to cum. In terms of rounds, he can go as many as you’d like. He’ll fill you with cum and then eat you out or finger fuck you until hes hard again before sliding back in your sore, oversensitive cunt. He can't get enough of you and if he doesn't want to stop then you're out of luck. Hes not stopping until hes had his fill, he’ll fuck you until his cock hurts and there's nothing you can do to change his mind.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I can imagine the only toys Billy would be okay with using are the ones that you can buy a kit and make your own toys out of each other. He finds it so hot to watch you suck him off while riding a silicone version of his own cock. He loves that he can fill you from both ends. He doesn't use the one you made for him very often because if he wants you, he’ll take you, it's as simple as that. If you're not around and he's really missing you then he’ll use it. In his mind it could never compare to the real thing. He feels like no matter how much lube he uses or how much friction he gets that it could never get as wet as you can or be as warm and inviting as your hole can be.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

One of Billy's favourite ways to tease you is to call the sorority house. He knows you cant resist his voice. If you don't pick up he'll ask for you specifically. "Put that pretty little piggy on the fucking phone, you whore!" He'll tell you all the things he wants to do you to you and will do to you. He'll watch you squirm from the top of the stairs as he gets you all riled up in front of the other girls, they can usually hear everything he says.

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

Billy is as loud as they come. The entire time he's rutting into you he's moaning and whining like crazy. Moans that go high pitched and squeaky to incredibly deep and sultry. He goes between the two so frequently and so fast it's almost disorientating. He's not afraid to hide how good you're making him feel unless you guys are trying to be sneaky.

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

Hes a talker during sex, he will not shut the fuck up but you love it. This man will fuck your brains out while just spewing absolute filth that will make you quake. His dirty talk is masterful and downright nasty. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Billy is absolutely massive, he's a solid 8 inches fully hard. His cock is big and he knows it. He laughed the first time you took him inside you and you whined that he was too big. "Aww come on little piggy! Take my fat juicy cock!"

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

His sex drive is through the roof. Once you guys start having sex it feels like its almost impossible for you to keep up with it. He will be on you 25/8, hands ghosting over your body the moment you walk in the door. "Ive been waiting for you all day, now bend over and let me lick that pretty pink cunt of yours."

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

If its one of your longer sessions hes out like a light. He'll crash right next to you, snuggle into you under the covers and fall asleep. If its a short session than hes either jumping in your shower or heading back up into his hiding place.

light dividers by rainbowkisses31

☾ notes: day 3! these were so fun to write i love slutty billy. some of these i also want to expand on for future fics at some point.

☾ tag list: @rottent33th @damien-mlm @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @the-pinstriped-hood @allthingsblood @25bohemianmoons @essenceproxima

message me if you want to be added to my tag list!

[exo-dus404]

Basic info:

Hello, and WELCOME!! you can call me Exodus :D

I’m a huge fan of anything mechanical/artificial intelligence coded.

I have a pretty polarized preference for colors in art: Very vibrant colors vs. grey scale/pale colors. Personally I switch my style between these two depending on the topic and my mood.

I’m a Engineering major and I love combining my interests in those fields with my passion. I have a deep passion for Astronomy, Math, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Philosophy, and basically anything science-related.

My obsessions: futuristic aesthetics, urban tech-wear, weirdcore/dreamcore, liminal spaces, horror, wasteland aesthetic, religion aesthetic, body horror, eldritch horror, nostalgia futuristic aesthetic, machine gore, etc. I LOVE ANYTHING ABOUT BIRDS.

My fandoms:

Transformers

I’m a huge decepticon fan, and I like to explore religion themes in my designs/lores. My AU: The Carcer Institute, which focuses on sg universe’s Primus and the thirteen primes. This au is co-owned by me and Mitsuhone. You can find most of my TF stuff on my old acc: @exodus404

Rainworld

I’m currently working on my AU: Project Triple Affirmation. This AU is a combined effort of me and 200~ friends. You can find most arts on my Twitter acc.

Hazbin Hotel

I LOVE VOX. THATS ALL.

Marikin online 4

I LOVE GOU KIRIMI AND JERALDY I SHIP THEM SO HARD.

My tags:

#Project Tripple Affirmation (my running rw au)

#三重肯定AU (same tag but in Chinese)

#Apoclypse Institute (rw au)

#天启研究所（same tag but in Chinese)

#rw oc (my ocs)

#asks (ask blogs)

Triple Affirmation AU:(still wip, everything mentioned was posted on my other acc and I’m moving them here)

General info:

Project Triple Affirmation

AU logos

DATURA Animation Meme

Psycho Animation Meme

Honey I’m Home Animation Meme

Flip (Glass Animals) Animation Meme

《Eternity》 (comic)

RPG Game

NSH weapon display gif

FP weapon display gif

LTTM/NSH gif

《Fondness》 （fanfic)

《Daily Routine》 （fanfic）

《Paper Butterfly》 （fanfic）

【Unknown data log】 （fanfic/project document)

Key events:

Chapter 1: The beginning

Chapter 2:

The Eclipse Incident

Lazarous’ sins

Characters:

Rising Tides iterators:

LTTM old new

FP old new

NSH old new

SRS old new

GW

UI

Distant Frontier iterators:

SOS/EOC

SI

WO

GS

PI

Animals:

Rivulet

Spearmaster

Artificer

Hunter

Scavenger King

Ocs:

Silver Silence（银色缄默）

Foreboding Turmoil（暴乱先兆）

Spire of Iniquity（尖塔阴霾）

Data Expunged（数据删除）

Scorching Daylight（焚天白昼）

To Fathom Abyss（度量深渊）

Apocalypse Institute AU (wip) :

General info:

Apocalypse Institute AU Summarization

Logo

Characters:

The Doctor/The Commandant

SRS

LTTM

FP

UI

GW