#drabble-babble

[rivalfortune5768]

Reforged.

CWs Willingness to throw one's life away Death mentions

"I'm tired of hosting a waking nightmare. Please, make me into something beautiful. I don't care what parts of me end up as scrap but I can't keep existing like this" Said the panicking young humanoid thing with what seemed like space spilling out a crack in their skull.

"Who the hell told you how to find me?" It wasn't exactly easy, I picked a cave system under a gods-damned mountain for a reason. Not to mention most shouldn't even be able to see me.

"Why does it matter?? Hello! Prime material right here!" They said, motioning to their body, then further emphasizing by patting the crack on their skull. "I'm full of what some people think of as hell! I trail Paranoia and Fears like a fucking slug! SURELY you can use that, right?? You're the one who turned the First Heaven into a spear, aren't you??"

"Halberd." You respond curtly. Still trying to puzzle this one out. They start to speak before you hold up a hand and sigh. "Look. You seem oddly well informed, and determined. But let me stress-"

"I'll be reduced to nothing? Changed forever? Might not recognize myself or remember anything? I've heard it all, I'm ready for-"

"ZIP IT or I'm sending you home packing. Let me finish before you go jumping around my words." This earned a nod from the poor thing. I put my hand on my face as their posture held firm. "Let me stress: I have the power to change you. Yes, forever. But not every Work is Great, and not every project succeeds. Isn't there a better use of you if you're so determined to burn and warp?"

"I don't want the Nightmares used. I want them to be something else, or nothing at all. Not even the most abhorrent beasts deserve what I've been blighted with. I won't have some sorcerer or engineer spreading me around the worlds like a virus."

My eyes roll and I pat my anvil "Fine. Your funeral. Let's see if you've got a phoenix in you, huh?" They nod. "Thank you... My name is-" I snap my fingers to interrupt them. "Your name might as well be "Bronze". I don't name my materials, I name my projects. Wait until you have a new one to tell me." They stop, and nod.

We're silent as I set up. Star-cores with dragon-fire to heat them. A hurricane in my bellows. Tools prepared and pristine. I take the materials in my hands and I empower myself through their faith. "I am Kiln, Spirit-forger. I will smith a fantasy from your Nightmare, or you shall be reduced to dust and ash in my furnace."

. . .

Some hours in, through a floating voice on the hot air, they ask me a question. "Have... others you've worked on told you how this is supposed to feel?" Their form was embers on the wind at best, shifting from the slightest thought.

"Agony, for some. Peace for others, like they know the reaper is upon them." I say as I hammer out the insides of their skull, ever expansive on the inside. "I assume you are feeling something between wanting to empty your guts and wanting to ride into battle, from your tone."

"Something akin to that..."

"You're not made for battle. Don't have it in you, literally."

The embers go quiet. Much time passes before they speak their mind. "What am I made for, then?"

"You think we made your kind with a purpose? Not one of you are "Made" for anything. I can tell what you're not, I can't tell what you are. I can tell I'm forging a cloak of some kind using that gunk you lugged around everywhere, can't tell you what it'll do."

"But I want a purpose. I've been through so much..."

"And I'm sure you're convinced you've put others through more. Stow the pity-party, Material. Let me work. If you crave purpose so thoroughly then use this time to reflect on it."

. . .

They were quiet for the rest of the process. When I was done they lay asleep on a small chair I'd stored long ago, for when "volunteers" were a more often occurrence. The cloak of their "Nightmares" laying on the anvil, softly flapping against the heat of the room moving through the tunnels.

The small figure, crack filled in with iron and rivets, groggily roused from sleep. "Mmmnghh... Am I... Did it work?" They ask, bleary eyed. The embers in the room dance towards them.

"Well enough, little phoenix." I say as my eyes follow the embers. They're moving like fireflies to the iron on this one's head. "Your "nightmare", by the way. Was a corpse. Something died in your dreams and it got stuck there. Something like *Me*"

They blink at me, astonished.

"How did you kill a god, small one?"

"I... Didn't?" They pull their knees up to their chest. Looking quite insecure in their statement.

We both say nothing for a long time. Eventually I sigh and turn to inspect the cloak before they pipe up once more.

"Can I serve you? As an assistant?"

"I'm against it. I still don't know how you found me or how you can see me in the first place. As far as I know you're some kind of anomaly, you contain a blessing you don't know of or won't share, you're some kind of demigod, or you're just plain lucky."

When I turn to punctuate my thought, I see the embers that had wafted over to them have taken to melting the iron on their skull, the didn't notice it starting to drip. "I think... Whatever died in that dream might have been my mom?" They look almost lost in thought before they nearly jump out of their skin noticing molten metal dripping down their skin without harming them.

"...How old are you?" I ask, quickly narrowing the list of recently deceased deities and realizing with startling clarity that this child may be a direct reincarnation and offspring of one.

"I was born..." They blink "I..." They look like they're about to panic, before clarity washes over them and they let their posture fall. "I've forgotten. I don't remember... much aside from the Nightmare, and some of what we spoke of before I woke up. Just that I was thinking about purpose, and could only think of you."

I'm about to remark on their missing story when they ask a question in return. "Why is my head still leaking? It's different now." As much as I dislike being interrupted, the question is a good puzzle. More iron has poured off their face than I'd put in there originally. Perhaps...

"Hold still" I say, grabbing a clump of nickel and gently placing it in their molten fountainhead. Within moments the iron flowing from them has become liquid steel, and in impossible quantities for what was put in.

They stare up at me, unsure what's going on as I connect several dots and make determinations over the next few moments.

"Well, I've got three answers for you." I say as I take across from who I now realize is a godling, looking down at them. "First: I'm fairly confident your mother was the fountain goddess Genesis. How she died? Beats me. Second: Your head's still leaking because you're the new fountain deity. Your source was poisoned, now it's not sure what it's supposed to be producing."

They nod slowly, trying to grapple with what I'm telling them without being impolite. They swallow as I groan. "Third: ...I'll have you as an apprentice, perhaps assistant one day, but not forever. I'll house and train you until you're ready to go and bring a missing god back to the mortal folk."

They smile weakly. "Thank you... But, what does the cloak... How does it work?"

"How should I know? I may have used it, but it's the remnants of a dead god. Ultimately It's up to her, and now you, to figure out what it does. I can tell you it's damn near unbreakable, though, like fluid diamond that piece of cloth."

They slowly get up from the chair, grabbing the dangling edge of it from the anvil and clasping it around their neck, it shimmers and suddenly takes the form of billowing steel. Well, at least we both know one thing it can do now.

"Oh, child. I have one more answer for you." They stop inspecting their mother's parting gift to them and look up once more at me.

"Your name is Radix. For you will grow and flourish with things this world has never seen."

~FIN~

[hihhasotherfixations]

Thinking about Price coming home.

You noticed him coming in, of course you did. Yet while one part of your brain wished to turn around and greet him, welcome him home, the tired part of you decided to stay put; eyes closed and your body partially turned away.

The first thing you felt was his hand, gentle as it placed itself upon your cheek, his hardened palms sliding softly against your tender flesh, followed by the slow creak of the bed as it dipped under his weight.

“I’m home, love.” A quiet whisper came from him, his gave a mere breath away from yours as carefully, he pressed his lips to your cheekbone, right near the juncture towards your lips.

Soft and sweet, his beard lightly scratching your skin before he pulled back, his thumb tracing back and forth.

Slowly, your lips curled up, feeling the man carefully lay down, pulling himself close to you and digging the blankets out from under you to instead take their place at your back. His warm arms wrapped around and under you, holding you and keeping you safe.

No matter how long or how often John had to go. Coming home always involved the same thing.

A sweet and soft greeting, and the feeling of safety returned.

[strungnews]

Thinking about having a one sided rivalry with Mark but only YOU hate him and he doesn’t know jack shit. You just develop this malice towards him that keeps building and building for no damn reason, then it bursts when he turns out to be a good guy. And fuck, maybe you’re falling for him?

He’s all awkward smiles and clammy palms when you go to shake it, he’s confident but a geek at heart so he doesn’t know what to even do with you or himself. The forced proximity is soul crushingly painful but you grit through it, trying to be nice because even though he is your “rival” you have manners.

Then it escalates when you’re left alone with him, and he brings up the only topic he knows to talk about which is that damn Seance dog. Of course you knew about it. Hell, you were a big fan of it! But then people started to spread the word and popularize it, being all stuck up and ungrateful to the comic artists whenever an issue was yet to be released.

Thats why you hated him, thats why you competed with him. Because you were a gatekeeper.

But like a christmas miracle, he just keeps on giving and surprising you. Many points are given that you agree with, and suddenly you’re dumping all this information on him and he looks like a jolly kid opening their presents on christmas morning.

“Exactly! The people just don’t get it like you and I do,” Mark feels a bit lighter now that the tension between the two of you has snapped. Although he wasn’t even sure why there was one in the first place.

“Right? I don’t even know why I hated you.” He laughs along with you, sighing in content. Before he pauses and relays your words back in his head.

“Wait, you hate me?”

[ecstasyhighway]

gang wait hear me out hear me out… abby strap game goes CRAZYYYY likee….she will leave you so beyond fucked out like WAITTT IMMA COOK (its 5am and this is rotting my brain rn, i saw a vid on twt and i lost it a bit)

you have been face down in your pillows for hours, abby’s pace not even slowing down for a second. you’re rambling on about nothing you’re so cock drunk you cant even think straight. her hands on your waist, pulling you closer to her “baby uhmf ohhmygodd please” you hear her chuckle behind you “whats wrong huh? can’t take it? awww my poor baby” she pounds into you harder, the pornographic sounds of skin slapping and moans from both of you fill the room “y’wanna cum?” you cant even speak clearly the only thing that leaves your mouth are cries of agreement. “i need words babygirl” she grabs your hair to pull you up to her so she can hear you “yesyesyesyes please let me cum please” her pace stutters, the base of her strap continuously rubbing her sensitive clit “ufhm fuh-fuck, go ahead baby you can cum” she snakes one of her hands down to your clit to rub circles on it. your vision goes white and you swear you see stars as you cum, you get a sensation you haven’t gotten before that familiar knot in your stomach feels tighter, you feel abby stop and hear her breathing heavily, as shes coming down from her own orgasm “holy shit did i make you squirt oh fuck” she laughs slightly in astonishment. you cant even form a comprehensive thought, you are so beyond fucked out you can’t even respond to her. “oh baby c’mere” abby picks you up and takes you to the bathroom to clean you up so that you can go to sleep.

——————

GANGGG GANGG AM I A WHORE GANG I NEED HER HELP ME (this is terrible i am sleepy asf and its not proofread but i needed to put this shit out 🔥)

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

i had ONE anon ask me about him ages ago and i’m tired of holding this in!

CW: kinda undertones of fwb, unprotected p in v, pet names, love confession

Will’s laid back, arms resting behind his head, eyes stuck on you as he watches you work his cock. Each downward stroke taking him in far enough to feel him later.

Your face is twisted so beautifully, mixed with pleasure and determination. It's all so sincere, so different from the usual quick moments you share, your hands resting against his neck, clit swiping against his pelvis.

And when you go slow, rolling your hips, letting him feel every inch of you. Will bites his cheek, groaning, his hands gripping your hips.

"There y'go," he praises. "You - fuck, you feel good."

"Thank you," you moan out, and he groans. That phrase is new in your vocabulary, and he's so thrilled to hear it. Finally teaching you the sweeter you are, the more you get.

You whine as the tip of his cock finally rubs against your sweet spot. It's hard for you to find on your own, but Will knows it like the back of his hand. He knows you, like the back of his hand.

"You're so big," you cry. "Wanna belong to you, make me yours."

Will’s quick to lean upward, his hands leaving a bruising grip on your hips, his lips hovering in front of yours.

"Yeah? Go ahead and take it, honey. Be mine."

"I'm yours," you promise against his lips. You wrap your arms around him while you keep grinding. Resting your forehead against his. Voice so soft, he could've missed it if he wasn't watching you. "Take care of me."

That's the second he broke, feeling the need to promise. Hold you, care for you, make you his pretty little wife. "I will baby," he gasps, his hands pull you closer.

"Gonna take such good care of you, I promise. I love you, you’re so good to me, so pretty- fuck,"

"You love me?"

"I love you," he repeats, and you smash your lips against his. His cock twitches inside of you and he pants while his tongue slips into your mouth.

"Want you to cum. Inside, please," you moan. "Show me you love me."

[crguang]

this jane doe thing wouldn’t leave my mind so here it is

when making out with jane in a dark alley at midnight is a regular occurrence but that’s the only time you ever see her because she refuses to cross the imaginary line she’s drawn that would put the both of you in deep, deep trouble

\\

“What’s a pretty one like you doing out here at such a late hour?”

Jane presses you up against the wall with a playful smirk and effortlessly corners you to the dark, cramped space of the narrow alley near Random Play, the video store where you usually can be seen wandering around after sunset. She takes up all the room in your personal bubble with her chest flushed to yours and her nimble fingers firmly gripping your wrist, pinned to the rough brick wall like the rest of you. Her tail teasingly slithers up your torso, brushes over your collarbones then wraps around your other wrist to completely incapacitate you. You’re at her mercy, a prey caught in the palms of deft hands, and she is everywhere; caging you in, her presence is anything but as oppressive as it should be because those clear blue eyes are taking you in with obvious delight, quickly flitting over your facial features before settling on your parted lips, the remnants of your surprise.

It’s just a little over midnight, the streetlights don’t fully reach the place you both find yourselves in and so you can only see some parts of Jane’s body pressed close to you. The darkness does nothing to dim the life in her eyes, however. They glimmer with satisfaction at the compromising position you both find yourselves in and your total lack of struggle against your restraints.

“Clearing my mind with a walk,” you easily answer her previous question with a half-truth that she catches on immediately, if her widening smirk is anything to go by.

Two manicured fingers tilt your chin upward to meet her gaze. With her platform boots on, she towers slightly over you and doesn’t shy away from using her height as a weapon to corner you into submission. Jane doesn’t do things directly, never really tells you what to do, she simply takes away all of your options until the only one left is what benefits her most.

“Oh, really?” She plays along with your white lie and lightly drags a sharp nail across the underside of your chin. “There must be quite a lot in that cute head of yours to wander the streets at midnight.”

You smile. “Just you.”

The corners of Jane’s eyes crinkle with pleasure at your blatant flirting.

“Besides,” you continue, “this neighborhood’s pretty safe.”

“You sure?” Jane moves even closer to you, her warm breath just barely grazing the skin of your cheek. Some strands of dark hair caress your face as she leans in until her painted lips brush your earlobe with every spoken syllable, and her voice lowers to a sultry, confident purr. “After all… I’m right here. And I happen to have caught a helpless little bird.”

Her tail suddenly tightens around your wrist while the tip leisurely traces the life line of your palm. An air of cold danger laces her otherwise vague words, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise in response. Her tongue swiftly wets her upper lip. You’re brusquely reminded of all that you don’t know about her, the missing puzzle pieces that could complete your portrait of Jane Doe— this enticing mirage who disperses into the wind when approached too closely. But for all her mysteries, the woman before you is made up of little quirks and preferences unique only to her, and those are enough for your desire to know more to simmer hotly in the pits of your belly.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you, Jane?”

You both know that’s a question you can answer yourself. Jane’s airy laughter tickles your ear. She leans back to look at you, purposely grazing your cheek in a feather-light kiss as she does.

“And risk ruining this pretty face? C’mon, I would never.” Her forefinger runs down the column of your neck, its nail against your throat, and it stops above your hammering pulse. “Don’t believe me? Your heart’s racing… I can smell it on you, you know.”

As if to illustrate her point, her head dips to the crook of your neck and her nose presses close to your skin. Your breath hitches, your head tilting to the side almost unconsciously to give her better access to your body. Jane makes a show of inhaling long and slow, filling her lungs with the scent of you, then she releases it all in a warm exhalation over your pulse point. Your stomach clenches pleasantly at the sensation.

“Oh, maybe I’m mistaken,” the tip of her nose slowly travels to the junction between your shoulder and neck, each word spoken directly into your skin, “it’s not fear, but something much more intoxicating…”

She inhales a second time, quieter, and breathes out in a manner she means composed but that is underlined with the one trait she refuses to show you.

“And what’s that?”

In an instant too quick to compute, Jane’s lips are brushing yours with her next reply and the blazing heat of her stare fans the desire within your veins. “Something you probably shouldn’t feel for someone like me.”

“Why not?”

You think there’s a hint of something wry and cloudy in the sky of her eyes, past the playfulness and self-assurance. “Might not end well for you.”

“Already thinking about the end? I thought we were having fun.”

“Everything’s fun until you get cut.”

A warning that you readily ignore. You lean impossibly closer, sharing her breath for a suspended moment, and capture her parted lips in a gentle kiss. It’s soft and chaste, lasts only a second, and you’re pulling away before she can reciprocate.

“I don’t mind playing with knives,” you murmur into her mouth.

“…Foolish,” Jane smiles. Her tongue darts out to swipe over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth, putting a name to the sweetness she briefly caught a taste of in your kiss. “You shouldn’t eat chocolate so late at night. It’s bad for your teeth.”

You let her change the subject, pretending to buy her deflection. “Says the one whose entire diet consists of instant noodles and energy bars.”

“Heh, touché. I never claimed to be an example to follow.”

“I’ll follow you anyway.”

The charged words leave you automatically but you stand your ground, unblinking. Jane’s reaction comes a few seconds too late for it to be fully genuine; her pupils constrict in a flash, her smile briefly wavers at the left corner, and her tail grips you tighter for just a second— then her eyelids droop flirtatiously and she’s chuckling in amusement, her free hand cupping your cheek. She strokes it using her thumb, right over the dark eye bags etched on your skin.

“Are you trying to get into my pants? Right here in this dark, cramped alleyway? How naughty~”

If she notices your dampening enthusiasm, she says nothing. It’s hidden behind your irises, a light flickering shut like something she can’t take back, and she feels some genuine part of you slipping through her fingers. It’s too bad, it’s what she likes most about you. And if that does anything to her, she doesn’t show it. Jane clings onto what is left, this game of knowing cat and willing mouse you’ve been playing for months now, and does what she’s good at: meaningless seduction.

“Careful what you wish for, pretty bird…” she mutters, “I just might give you what you want.”

She steals your next reply with a firm, insistent kiss. Her lips meld with yours and she swallows the muffled sound of surprise that escapes you, her body now completely flush to yours. You’re trapped between her soft form and rough brick, her callused fingers over your pulse, her tail absentmindedly caressing the skin of your wrist and the lines of your palm. The tip traces the short bones of your fingers, one by one, while Jane kisses your lips as if they hold answers she’s afraid to hear but long to anyway. Her fingertips tentatively slide upward, over your palm and between your own until your fingers are laced together against the wall. She exhales into your mouth and her breath is yours, it sits on your lungs like something precious before you give it back to her just as readily. Her tongue runs across the seam of your lips then eagerly pushes past them to swirl around yours. You chase the invading muscle for some time, neither of you caring for the telltale sounds of locked lips the breeze carries into the deserted alley. Heat rushes to your chest and spreads to your guts in such a pleasant, familiar way you can’t help the faint moan that tumbles from your mouth directly into hers.

“Already… mmh… making those cute sounds for me?”

Jane means to tease but can barely pull away from you long enough to utter this sentence. You can’t respond even if you wanted to, she’s unrelenting in her assault and fills each of your senses with her presence. She’s impossible to ignore and would be even more difficult to escape were you not exactly where you want to be.

“Mnh, ah,” you pant hotly between kisses, “relax… m’not going anywhere…”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.”

You barely contain a squeak when her strong hands lift you up by the thighs and hold you pinned to the wall, her grip tight. Your legs close around her waist and you’re finally free to link your arms around her neck to bring her infinitely closer. Jane tilts her chin and parts her lips wider, capturing your lips once more. Her kisses are deep and urgent like she’s running out of time or indulging in a treat she rarely gets to taste. Her tail brushes your shoulder, your cheek, your nape; it never strays far from you. You roll your hips, seeking relief from the growing throb between your thighs, and Jane smirks against your mouth.

“Need something?” Her kisses move to your jaw and down to the crook of your neck, nipping at the skin with sharp teeth and leaving her mark near your racing pulse.

“Yes,” you reply breathily and cup both of her cheeks to pull her in another kiss. “Need you.”

“Ooh… say that again.”

Lust clouds your minds and you both forget yourselves for a moment that seems to stretch on for an hour, in a back alley of a narrow street darkened by the midnight hour. Jane kisses you and you return each one with simmering passion you’re unable to express with words in fear she scurries away somewhere you can’t follow. Your body is warm despite the cool air and greedily seeks more of her firm touch, your hips grinding into her for the sweet friction it provides. Jane squeezes the back of your thighs and lets out a low moan against you.

“Hah… Jane…”

Just like that, her name on your tongue— so tender and needy— is a harsh return to reality. Jane withdraws from your lips, mouth wet and open, chest heaving, and you’re too slow to see the flash of panic in her hazy gaze as she lets go of your thighs and forces you to stand once more. Her eyes flit to the side and back to you like a cornered animal desperate for an exit, and she takes a step back while clearing her throat. The sudden loss of contact makes you blink rapidly. You lick the corner of your mouth where some of her saliva has gathered, your mind lost in a fog of confusion and desire.

“Um, are you okay?” You ask uncertainly, not knowing what to do with your hands now that she’s rejected you so brusquely. You wipe your palms on your thighs.

Jane adjusts her jacket and runs her fingers through her hair. “Yeah, of course.”

She seems to regain her composure quicker than you, a smug smile gracing her lips as she meets your gaze. Her skin is hot, her cheeks flushed, but she stands straight and confident while you’re still blinking the confusion out of your eyes. The air between you is made awkward in record time with your silence and her refusal to explain herself truthfully. She walks towards you and casually brushes some hair out of your face, her familiar flirtatious tone back in her voice.

“You’re a mess,” she smirks, fingers trailing down the side of your face to lift your chin up, “and just after a few kisses too. I wonder how you’d look if I touched you properly…”

You’re getting whiplash from her hot-and-cold behavior, but you manage a reply, “Come over and find out.”

Jane clicks her tongue. “Sorry, I still have some stuff to take care of. But I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least walk you home, it’s pretty late. Don’t want you roaming outside on your own.”

“Oh.” You slowly push her hand away and she lets it fall to her side then stuffs them both in her front pockets. “That’s not necessary. I don’t live far from here.”

She simply regards you for a moment, and you can just glimpse the reflective sheen of the walls she puts up around herself before she shrugs lightly and it disappears into the wind.

“If you say so.”

She usually insists until you cave in and quietly walk side by side down Sixth Street, the breeze in her hair and your eyes to the distant sky. This time though, she lets you off the hook without a fuss. Your chest feels heavy and you don’t dare to look at her, focusing on a discarded candy bar wrapper lying on the ground. Jane doesn’t let the tension reach a boiling point, she sighs contentedly and turns her back on you.

“I’ll see you around, then, pretty bird.”

She makes a farewell gesture with her index and middle finger and walks in the opposite direction of where you’re heading. Your hand curls into a fist. The rejection hurts even after you’ve told yourself this is simply how Jane is, the fondness that belies her teasing words doesn’t mean a thing, and neither does the vague sense of longing you sometimes can feel in her kisses. She’s Jane Doe, the closer you get, the less she gives. Clinging onto the person you catch fleeting glimpses of behind her carefully crafted mask is both pointless and ridiculous, you know that. And yet…

You’re too engrossed in your thoughts as you make your way back to notice the sharp eyes tailing you from a safe distance the entire walk home. When you shut the front door behind you and flick open the light in the entryway, Jane crosses her arms and leans on a nearby building, eyes glued to the warm glow of your transom window.

[lady-ashfade]

Keep Quiet, My Prince.

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Drunk!Lucerys Velaryon X Fem!Reader [Drabble]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 479

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: Short, Lukes First Time Drinking, He’s A Lovely Idiot, They Are In Love, Luke Being Drunk.

The giggles spilling from his lips when his feet tripped over themselves as you tug him along the halls of the hidden pathways. His hand grips tightly on yours even though they are moist and sweat covered. “Maybe-” he hiccups, “you’d like to share another drink?”

Rolling your eyes at the drunken prince you shake your head, “Lucerys, it’s time to rest now.” he whines like a pup and you’re sure he looks like one. Getting to the hidden door you push it open and let him step inside his chambers, but he stops just a few inches and waits for you. It startled you when you face him, his eyes staring right at you as his body sways to kept itself balance.

“Is something the matter?” your amused smirk does nothing to him, usually he hides in embarrassment when you tease him. But all he does is stare at you and take in every detail of your face, and a spark in his dazed eyes you’ve never seen before.

“I must say you are very beautiful,” his hands flys up to your cheek and poked at the skin, “have I ever said it before? Because when I look at you I feel nervous- Flies swimming around my stomach and my heart bounds.” when he leans a bit to the left you catch him with your arm.

He pushes you off slightly to walk away like his words didn’t make your blush and swoon, he’s never been confident enough to say much. Luke walks, sloppy, and takes his night shirt off the chair where he left it the morning before but his haste movements almost knock something off the table beside him. You rush to aid him and make sure nothing is broken or makes much noise.

“Keep quiet, my prince. We mustn’t let anyone hear you.” He just shrugs and takes off the formal shirt to replace it with his evening shirt, you look away from him as he does.

“Well, I do feel quite tired,” you go to reply until his hands tug at your own and pull you toward his bed, making you fall on the soft mattress with him with a huff.

“I shouldn’t stay-” you try to convince him to let you go but he pulls you into his warm embrace.

“Stay with me,” his nose hits yours, “i wouldn’t have the courage in the morning to look you in the eye, just let me be brave with you for a little longer?” He pleads his case with his grip still latched onto you, how could you say no to his puppy eyes.

“You’ll have me until the sun rises.” he grinned and moves to get more comfortable in bed, his body turned against yours and hugged you from behind. A few silent seconds later and he fell asleep with his nose buried in your neck.

[freak-like-meemy]

Jack Frost has a penchant for wild spirits—the ones who weave words like spells, paint dreams into existence, and lose themselves in the embrace of a story. He’s drawn to the brunettes who carry entire worlds in their minds, ink-stained fingers tracing the edges of fate itself. The ones who defy gravity, who ride atop giant winged beasts as if they were born to belong to the wind, chasing adventures no mere mortal dares to touch.

Perhaps it's their fire against his cold, their boundless imagination against his eternal solitude. He’s always been enamored with those who don't just see magic but create it. And in them, he finds a warmth even winter cannot steal.

Sidenote: This was absolutely fueled by thoughts of Jatherine and Hijack, naturally~

[immodestly-marina]

Paparazzi!Series *ੈ✩‧₊˚ Masterlist

In which Sam Winchester is an up-and-cumming pornstar, and you might just be his biggest fan. From watching his videos, to being a part of them, you won’t stop until that boy is yours!!

Paparazzi! (Part One of Paparazzi!Series)

Summary ➛ Sam makes porn to make ends meet at Stanford, and when he receives some satisfactory donations from a loyal fan, he sends an invite to a private session with @/fame_monstrr!

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Real Good, We’re Dancin’ In The Studio! (Part Two of Paparazzi!Series)

Summary ➛ You go to a frat party and spot “Tom”, but he doesn’t know you’re the one watching him and contributing to his tuition payments, shhh!

✧ ˚ 　· ✧˖*°࿐. More cumming soon..!

[spinecouture]

headcanons | sfw & nsfw ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

☆ daryl doesn’t hate bathing, he just hates being told to

☆ mommy issues (like when carol is all motherly towards him? oh, he just melts)

☆ would love back scratches

☆ generally vanilla, demisexual asf — more kinky during masturbation, i feel like he’s got some shame about it

☆ smoked weed before the outbreak, but never any hard drugs—was def a drinker, but tries to avoid it bc he is an angry drunk!!!

☆ shitty ass handwriting, often illegible lmao

☆ gets along better with women than men most of the time, i just feel like it’s easier for him to be himself around women (trauma be like 🤪)

☆ was probably bullied until merle showed him how to be the bully (“grow a pair, fight back!”)

☆ very observant with a good memory, tries to hold onto every detail he can

☆ definitely a gift giver once he knows what to give you, an acts of service kinda guy cus u know he can’t talk good

☆ is good with kids because he doesn’t wanna see anyone go through what he did, but def wouldn’t want kids of his own like that

feel free to add some of your own! i probably will as time goes on. i love my mans!!!!!

[dollyfetti]

꒰ ♡⠀　𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ₊˚ ♡

^ "study buddies" is the temporary (or maybe not, we'll see!) name for the bakugou series based on this post !! everyone mentioned below commented for a p2/series on that post but plz lmk if u wanna be added/removed!! ♡

࣪˖౨ৎ.˚ @kissfortulips @teeesthings @m-0ona @mimidonottouch @mersmoon @bunny-b34r @fluff-n-cookies @scarlett-witchh @l0vefanficti0n @blissin6s @harryzcherry @bakugouswh0r3

please send reqs of non-smut scenarios of these two sillies bc im in need of ideas </3 i want there to be sort of a slow burn between bkg + reader but u can def send sexual tension scenarios if you'd like!! im just gonna wait a bit to write smut for them :3

[rivalfortune5768]

What makes a God.

Continuing Reforged from the other day.

CWs: Not much really, just a bit more self doubt/loathing. it's chill.

I twirled my hammer in my hand, thinking. It had been about two weeks since young Radix found themself in my mentorship. I'd been planning to lead with smithing and forgework advice upfront, before explaining some of the more... complicated matters of godhood to them. So naturally the fates found it a perfect time to cast another perfectly aimed glop of spit in my face.

"...Well?" The young thing repeated, currently pouring a slow stream of hot wind from their skull. We'd experimented how to change the sourceflow so that there wasn't molten metal all over the shop, turns out you just need to dump raw dirt in there, can't seem to produce more earth so it defaults to whatever hits it strongest and fastest.

"...Well. That depends on what kind of god you choose to be, partially. But there's a method to this sort of thing, small one..." I say, tentative. It's been too little time since last that I've had to be patient with someone. Blunt does the job quicker and clearer.

"I could have poisoned whole towns! I need to go make sure they're okay! I need to. Fuck... I need to fix this!" They shouted. It had been a few nights ago, they woke up in the middle of the night, echoing down the tunnels their realization that, what with some sort of liquid nightmare leaking out their head they may have poisoned anywhere they passed to get here, in their haste. "I have to go out and fix it."

I nearly bang my hammer on the anvil to get their attention but I catch myself. Hammer it out later, now is the time to tap slowly, precisely. "Stop and listen to me. A god does not begrieve their mistakes, at least not to mortals. Their faith makes you who you are, and you would be wise to hold that in high priority."

"But-" I stop them this time, letting them obsess without focus will get us nowhere. "SO. What you should do is make use of your new form. Good riddance to the hooded pestilence that swept through this town in a fervor, for now there is a God reborn amongst them! Surely, they can solve our woes...?" I don't smile, I don't like what I'm suggesting, but there are ways We deal with these things.

The poor thing looks nearly crestfallen. "You want me to lie to them? I'm. I can't do that! I don't even remember if I'm good at it!" "You're shit at it, I can tell you that." They blink. "How do you know that?"

I think back to two weeks ago, they came to me then, before they were reforged. The damn child wailing like a canary, they said they were useless as is, that they didn't want to live. They cried, their lip quivering. Besides the obvious, they had just about every tell in the book that they were lying. "You told me how you found this place was that a priest from the village over told you about me. They're too young to know where I live." I, on the other hand, am a practiced liar.

And as such, they accepted my statement as gospel. The perks of teaching an amnesiac. I use the moment to strike while the iron is hot, so to speak. "You will not lie to them. You are different now, are you not? You wear a different name, no nightmares spill forth from your skull, hell you could change yourself more if it would help you convince yourself of the fact."

They stop, tears of self-loathing pooling in their eyes for a moment, stopped from spilling over by realization. "I... Could. Couldn't I?" They say in a small voice. "Master Kiln..." They continue, "Would you please... Please journey with me? I want to fix any messes I caused, I'm certain I've caused them. But. I don't want to ruin things for myself... I want to be a beloved deity, like my mother, but..."

I heave out a sigh and set my hammer down "Child. Enough doubt. I don't want to hear the word 'But' regarding your own plans or desires or worth or what-have-you until we are three villages out from here, is that understood?" I had planned for another era or two of solitude, yet I find myself faced with many 'But's of my own, driving against my own desires. "I will accompany you, and your education will continue as we travel."

They take a deep breath, trying to center themself as I've been teaching. "Thank you, master. I won't let you down." I nod and crack my neck "You wouldn't be the first of our kind to do so, child. Don't make promises you can't keep, just be ready to make amends for them." They look hurt, then confused. Perhaps they're picking up my habit for studying others.

They aren't ready to unravel that web yet, so I use the chance to shift my scale down to that of the common folk. This time I choose a broad frame. Rippling shoulders, arms, back, it's only right for a smith to be well-sculpted, after all. A modest pair of breasts, relative to the rest of my form, and a fine mane of red and black hair, styled as flames coming up from a beard and back along my spine.

Naturally, the young godling's jaw damn near hits the cave floor. "Can... I do that? Is that a thing all gods can do?" They ask, blinking as their eyes fail to properly process this new information. "Oh yes, how frustrating do you think it would be to walk amongst the mortals and be recognized by each and every soul?" I smile, this time.

I walk them through the process. I teach them that gods are faith given form, second that is. Firstly, gods are Ideas. Concepts. Things that souls we could only dream of dreamt up long before us or ours ever stood above the mortal folk. In order to shape yourself, you need only take what that idea means to you, any facet, it doesn't have to be the whole, and you find the faith that folk have in you, mortals, fellow gods, or yourself. You take that faith and you give it form from that idea.

Right as I finish explaining, as if they'd been doing it along to the words I spoke, they stood taller, that crack in their skull now a vibrant rust-tinged silver line of hair contrasting their long golden blonde. Lithe, not like they'd been starving, but like they were on the run from something. Built out of necessity. Their cloak matching their hair as it shifts, gold with a stark rust-silver stripe. Lastly, their eyes seem to refuse change. Blue tries to creep around their irises, but only seems to complete a half circle around their previous raven-violet. Odd but not unheard of. I begin thinking of ways to explain it away.

"Alright, with that, think on your name and story. I'll begin packing for the trip." We don't need to eat, but it will help keep appearances up if we carry food and water. Not to mention I'll need to find a non-enchanted set of tools and such to cart around with us... "Well, what are you going to go by? Any ideas for me?" They ask, looking down at themself, then up at me.

"I'll be Ser Radson, first name Ranulf. As for you, just don't use the name I gave you. Don't want folk months or years from now saying they were the first to know young Radix before they took their mother's title." The godling thought for a moment. "Before she took her mother's title." She stated, as correction to us both. I nodded. "Fair Astrid Meriweather, perhaps?" She coughs from astonishment instantly. "No way. Absolutely not. That's way too... Fanciful." "Think on it yourself then, little one." I say, before heading out of the room to gather our things.

[lilyandpad]

James sighed, “That…is a terrible idea.”

“And yet,” Sirius waved his hands around, smug as always, “You don’t deny my brilliance.”

“I deny it,” Peter muttered as he flipped through their potions textbook.

Suddenly, the door opened to the dormitory and Remus slammed it behind him, stalking towards Sirius, “You, are a fucking idiot.”

“You’re on your own mate,” James stage whispered as him and Peter rushed out of the shared space.

[mrsblaileen]

i’m of two minds about levi.

on one hand - he’s humanities strongest soldier, worth 10 men easily. people whisper his name in awe, in fear, and as much as he seems indifferent to the opinions of others, obligated to his duty - there’s a little, sick part of him that likes it. likes that people are afraid of him, that cadets and scouts alike hang on his every word. likes it especially when it’s you; looking up at him with those wide, adoring eyes. knows you’d do anything for him, anything at all that he asks, and who is he to refuse such obedience, such dedication? in those moments he’s more than happy to prove to you that your devotion is well placed.

on the other hand - he shoulders an unbearable burden, the whole of humanities future in his hands; the weight of his title, his position, hundreds of people looking up at him in hope, in adoration, and it’s too much. behind the image of the stoic soldier, he needs someone to take the burden from him, take hold of the reins. needs one place he doesn’t have to be in control, where he doesn’t owe anything, doesn’t need to think. and you’re more than happy to oblige, to take care of him, tell him what to do - wind him down until he’s a whining, needy mess; the only thought left in his pretty little head is of you.

[ecstasyhighway]

yall hear me out on principal yaga…like idk i didn’t see it at first but whew….now?? i know his dick is big and heavy.

i just know if that man were to put his dick in your mouth it would be hard to take. and when i say he cums alot i mean like a fucking lot. thick creamy loads. like... when he is pumping his cock into ur cunt and he cums? its spilling out and you better not waste that shit cus he will fuck you again... definitely has a breeding kink when he saw you treating panda like your own son???? he KNEW he needed to get your pregnant. when i say his dick is big and heavy, i mean like 5 inches soft and maybe 6.5 inches hard, a vein on the side that hits all the right spots..girthy with a slight curve... slightly darker at the base with a tanish tip. circumcised definitely. groomed fairly well, definitely has a bush but he keeps it neat. his cum comes out in thick ropes...not tiny spurts i mean ROPES. probably salty with a creamyish color... OOOOUUU and i knowww that man eats pussy like its his last meal... diving into your cunt making you stay still as you squirm and leak on his chin... thick fingers pumping in and out of your leaky hole as he overstimulates you and you say "no more! s'to much" he tells you "you can take it you're being such a good girl f'me" JESUSSS I NEED THIS MANNNNN. NO AND HE MAKES LOVE BUT WHEN HE WANTS TO FUCK HES GONNA FUCK. when hes making love to you hes just giving you deep strokes (in missionary) his heavy balls hitting the plush of your ass as he thrusts into you telling you how good you are for him and how much he loves you. but when he fucks?? he fucks like he hates you... hes the principal of a very high stress school, having to deal with gojo and the higher ups and whatnot. so when i say he fucks? i mean he is hitting it from behind pushing your head into the mattress one leg propped on the bed while the other is one the floor so he can fuck into you harder. whew and when he wants to get you pregnant?? expect the meanest mating press ever. hes so big and tall. throwing your legs over his shoulders as he cums deep into your womb babbling about "gonna make you a mommy...you're so pretty. gonna be such a pretty mama to our kids" goes multiple rounds jus to make sure it takes. whew give this man the nastiest sloppiest head ever!!! hes groaning and gasping for air as you try to deep throat him. ONE TIME you wanted him to fuck your throat so you laid on the edge of the bed with your head hanging off his big cock enters your throat and he just goes hard bruising the back of your throat definitely. hes mean with it too. plugging your nose as he just stops and stays in your throat. he lovesss watching you struggle to breathe. he pulls out just to cum on your face and tits. anyways i need him

i scared my friend when i sent this to him 😁 it was just supposed to be a short little thing about how fine he is…something inside me just…snapped

[eepwtf]

fuckk i need to grab soldier boy and whisper in his esr calling him my little princess 😕😕makes me sick that i can’t have him in front of me rn