#hello everybody……..

[wormswurld]

Omg please continue the tashi slipping art viagra then cucking him

okay! i can do that :D obvious tw for duncon regarding drugs, the perspective is off at times i think oopsies, 846 words; enjoy! 🌟

to be honest i feel like after she slips viagra into art’s drink he starts to feel off after 30 minutes or so..feeling all warm, cheeks flushed, maybe a little bit of sweat above his brow.. but god does he feel tight, feels his stomach slowly twisting into a knot, his slacks just making him overwhelmed and dizzy.. he tries to pass it off as nerves, after all tashi looks so gorgeous sitting across from him, and this is their first date in a hot minute..

“you alright baby? you seem uncomfortable?” tashi asks sickly sweet, her soft palm grasping the side of his cheek..fuck, what is wrong with him, even just the slightest touch made his stomach (and balls) tense up, this can’t just be nerves.. “y-yeah, just a little nervous, you look beautiful tonight…by the way” and tashi just smiles, evil grin disguised by her captivating gaze.. “well aren’t you the sweetest..” placing a peck on his flushed cheek, before art has time to press his cheek further onto tashi’s pursed lips there’s a knock at the door, “and by the way, pat is joining us for dinner” tashi quips as she makes her way to the door.

and if art wasn’t sweating already he sure is now because patrick looks hot, like really really hot. his hair is slightly messy, a couple of greys spiraling their way into his jet black curls, and a black button down shirt tucked into his nicely fitted blue jeans that accentuate his bulge perfectly. “hey artie, dug up this shirt for dinner tonight, you like?” patrick says smugly, giving art a small spin. oh absolutely he liked. he liked a lot. too dumbfounded to speak he just nodded his head, patrick winking at him before he sat down at the dinner table.

it’s too much now. way too much. art is starting to feel antsy, too aware of his pants and shirt clinging to his body. and tashi. oh tashi. looking as perfect as ever and she swipes the hair out of her face, leaning into patrick whenever he makes her laugh. god. the two of them have been at this for the past 30 minutes now, laughing and giving small touches here and there. art sees patrick put his hand on her leg and that’s when he has to excuse himself. he can’t take it anymore. his body is buzzing with arousal, which is rare these days, but my god do tashi and patrick have an effect on him.

slowly standing up, art catches the attention of the two. especially patrick. eyeing him up and down like a peice of meat, letting his eyes linger on the straining fabric of art’s armani dress pants. “can i be e-excused?” he feels like such an idiot, a grown man asking his wife and beat friend if he can be excused from the dinner table. but nothing can take away his table manners that have been drilled into him from so long ago at the academy.

“hmm, i don’t know pat” tashi says, face now supplying a cheshire cat grin as she faces patrick, “can our boy be excused?” hands now balled into a fist at his sides, art glances at patrick, desperation oozing from his eyes. a quiet plea. chuckling softly patrick smirks, “of course he can, he’s been good hasn’t he?” tashi now averting her gaze from patrick’s she fixes them on his neck, slowly kissing up the long space of skin, biting a couple times under his ear, earning a hearty moan from.

stuck. art is stuck. paralyzed even. as he watches tashi devour the collum of patrick’s neck. patrick’s face blissfully fucked out as tashi runs her manicured nails down his shirt. and art just wants to cry fat wet tears because this isn’t fair. neither of them are helping him, and he feels so lightheaded he might pass out. pathetically making his way over to the two art kneels. knowing his place is best at the feet of his two lovers. “fuck tash—look at him now, on his knees and e-everything” groans patrick, looking at the worked up blonde beneath him.

but tashi doesn’t stop. she just expertly unbuttons patrick’s jeans with one hand, and begins stroking his hard cock. art is nearly drooling at the sight of tashi’s pretty hands on patrick’s girthy length. each time he sees her nails graze over the course black pubic hair his brain short-circuits. slowly palming at his swollen clothed cock, art whines. he really whines, the type of whines puppies let out when they’re punished. “please! p-please just touch me…need it need bad”

and there patrick goes. “fuck— art! oh f-fuck art..” patrick moans as tashi pumps him a few more times, leaving him to cover his jeans in cum. wiping her dirty hand on patrick’s shirt, tashi fixes her gaze on art. finally. “since you’re so noisy clean him up. i have dishes to do.” and with that tashi is off. leaving a half clothed, breathless patrick, and a nauseatingly hard art on the floor.

—

[abd-illustrates]

Surprise! 🦉🐻🎉

The reason I haven't been posting much lately is 'cause I've been busy working on the storyboards for the new Fantasy High Webtoon!

I defo wanna talk in more detail about what the whole process has been like when I get the time, but for now I just need to holler for a sec 'cause the first few chapters have just been released and I'm rlly excited for folks to see the whole team's hard work!! Gogogo! 💖

[lila-oh]

Who wants a piece of him? 📻❤️

[aroaceleovaldez]

i have suddenly become obsessed with a theme that HoO established but never proceeded to extrapolate on, which is:

You are Percy Jackson, and you have been swapped with a boy who was allegedly everyone's favorite person, but they have decided to replace him with you. They just met you. You stand next to his best friend and the people he's known his entire life. In his home. In his cloak. In his place. They stopped looking for him.

You are Jason Grace, and you have just found out you have a long lost sister who completely replaced you in her life with this girl you just met. Your lives and personalities are mirrors. She is you, living the life you were robbed of.

You are Annabeth Chase, and you have just become starkly aware that you have been inhabiting the void left behind by your best friend's long lost brother. You and Luke were just replacements for him. Now you have to look him in the eyes when he has nothing and know you took that life from him.

You are Piper McLean, and you have just found out your relationship is fake and built entirely on the memories of Annabeth Chase. You have been given a boyfriend when hers has been taken away. You have no idea how much of it is real or not but regardless you feel like if your relationship isn't exactly in their image that you have failed.

You are Leo Valdez, and you have just learned that you are the echo of your great-grandfather. You are not your own person. You just exist to be a mirror of him. A doppelganger. An actor and stunt double facing all the danger he never had to but wearing his face. To be there for his best friend decades later simply because he couldn't. You are playing a role. A seventh wheel and a pawn for a goddess who carefully sculpted your entire life for her own purposes.

You are Hazel Levesque, and the only reason you are alive is because your brother couldn't save your his sister. You are a consolation prize. An apology. Your existence here is misplaced in every way but you inhabit it anyways.

You are Frank Zhang, and you are a shapeshifter. Inhabiting your own body feels strange and clumsy when you could be literally anything at any time. You are anything and everything and live your life with the simple certainty of knowing exactly how you will die.

[edithdraws]

Hello Adam Warlock nation 🧡

[mcondance]

stack the type to use really sickeningly sweet pet names on you while he’s denying and teasing you.

he’s murmuring “aw, sweetheart” at your whining and squirming as you grapple at his belt buckle, but he keeps you pinned down and his hips pulled just far back enough to keep you from being able to make any real progress.

a croon of “hey, sweet thing,” floats over your ears when your eyes start to fill up with tears, your chest heaving as he slows his movements inside you to a sick, evil goddamn drag, pulling your soul out and fucking it back in with every cycle of his hips. “don’t be like that, baby,” he smiles, vile, lewd, beautiful.

[neverbelessthan]

SEVERANCE 2x10 | "They give us half a life and think we won't fight for it."

[eggcromancer]

It's my birthday!!! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ🎂

[electronicmail]

itll be an easy change lets just pretend everything is normal

[father-killjoy]

When all your other balaclavas are in the wash ❤️

[imissthestarswhenicry]

teehee. sketch for now

[edmione]

I swear, the conversations between these two must be top tier to hear.

[rose-petal123]

Siffrin fanart doodle hehehehe

[teddybeartoji]

彡 THE WORST PARTNER IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD

☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; con-artists au, crack, satoru is a little shit what's new, he also calls you 'baby' how sweet of him, hm? wc: 1.2k

+ a few hours earlier...

on the other side of the wall, music and laughter mix together almost perfectly. the people are having fun, they're drinking and chatting, joking about the latest super cars and 'boring' paintings. rich people.

a bead of sweat rolls from your temple.

the setting sun paints the room you're in a beautiful warm orange. the big windows invite the sunrays in with open arms; they hit the mahogany wood furniture and you're a bit jealous. a bit of dust falls from the ceiling and you have to focus on not sneezing.

"ugh, we make such a good team!"

...

satoru gojo.

"we– fuck, do not!" you grumble at him through gritted teeth. "you literally left me– to the cops last time, dipshit!"

"but you got away!" he chirps back rather gleefully and the desire to punch him is suffocating.

careful as to not raise your voice too much, you whisper-shout at him. "just barely!"

"well, don't sell yourself short, babe! you do know how to work a tight spot!"

...

it hurts. his stupidity hurts your brain. squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head at his joke. "can you– be like a normal fucking person? never say that again."

your knees about to buckle from below you and you're also losing your balance alongside your patience. it's rather hard to hold a 6'3 man up on your shoulders.

who could've guessed?

more dust falls onto your nose as satoru works on unscrewing the vent in the ceiling. it's painted gold. because why wouldn't it be, right? rich people are insane.

"what do you mean?! you were in a 'tight spot' and you got out of it!" it's sickening how genuine he sounds. "get it? it's called a tight spo— "

"could you possibly– stop saying the word 'tight'?" you grip onto his polished shoe that's sitting on your right shoulder while the fingers of your other hand dig into his ankle. "and could you possibly do this any fucking faster?"

he has ruined your suit with his dirty shoes and he has ruined your mood with his stupid jokes. you hate him.

he simply laughs at your annoyed tone "almost there, baby, almost there."

you try to make him explode with your mind for calling you baby again, completely and blatantly ignoring the butterflies that now occupy your stomach. you're just a bit nervous about the job, that's all. they have nothing to do with him. nothing at all.

you hear him shuffling around, mumbling something to himself as he reaches over to the last one, but while he doing so – he ends up putting way too much pressure onto your right shoulder which in turn makes you take a wobbly step forward. satoru's hands grasp onto the wall beside him in an attempt to help you regain your balance.

"c'mon! steady now!"

"shut the– " with furrowed brows, you glance up at him. sensing your gaze, he looks down at you with the prettiest smile. no, wait. just a smile, just a smile. fuck, you really hate him. "fuck– up!"

he gives you a quick wink before continuing his work and you avert your gaze. you can already feel the bruises blooming under your suit and shirt, reminders of his touch for the continuing weeks.

"you're way heavier than you look, gojo."

the sound of his gasp, makes your eyes roll back into your head. "are you calling me fat?"'

"yes. are you done?"

he tsks at your sharp answer and pockets his mini screwdriver. "so rude. and yes, i'm ready." as he speaks he takes the cover from it's place and slides it inside the vent. "be strong now!"

refraining from barking back, you divert all of your focus onto your core muscles and thighs. satoru lodges his one leg onto one of the fancy tall cabinet and you the uneven weight almost ruins you both. holding onto the wall with your now free hand, you observe him climbing up into the vent. the leg on your shoulder shakes and wobbles, threatening to run off but satoru doesn't seem to mind. you're sure he's having fun. the shit.

he manages to get his hands inside the vent and he's now trying to jam his whole body through the hole. his foot finally rises from your shoulder and he almost hits you in the face with it as he swings it around, supposedly gaining momentum for a final push. you sigh and brush off the dirt and dust from your suit.

you look around the room as you wait for him to turn himself around in the small vent. the sun warms your skin and you take the moment to enjoy the band through the walls of the room. exquisite paintings hang all around you, hugged by dark wooden frames, they rest in the shadows. specks of dust land on your nose and you look up.

he's grinning.

oh no.

"satoru..."

your warning does nothing but excite him even further.

"oh? ...not gojo?" his smile stretches. "but you love tight spots! i'm sure you'll find another way in, babe."

you're going to kill him.

deeply breathing in through your nose, you give him the biggest and also the fakest smile in the word.

"satoru, baby..." you hate how smug he looks. you want to wipe that stupid fucking smile from his face.

"you know that i just love tight spots and that's exactly why... you should pull me the fuck up!" your whisper-shouting turns into a full bark and satoru giggles behind his hand "right. now! i don't wanna find another way when a way is literally in front of me!"

his eyes twinkle at you when he realizes you actually used his own joke against him. you're so fucking hot. and you're especially hot now that you're glaring at him with a puffed out chest. he's having the best time of his life.

"that was good. that was really good actually." he winks at you as he moves to grab the vent cover from behind him. he places it back over the hole with a painfully slow pace, surely just to make you suffer even some more. he's sick. he's still visible enough for you to see the infuriating smile on his lips as he plays with you. "you did take my keycard though."

right.

he's as bratty as they come, as pretty as they come. petty! petty...

and this is his little payback. you're going to burn his house down. preferably when he's still in it. he gets on your nerves like nothing else. his eyes fucking sparkle from between the metal bars of the vent cover and your fingers curl into tight fists on your sides.

"i hate you."

"you'll get over it, baby. i'll see you later, yeah?"

his pearly whites flash at you one last time and then he's already climbing over the cover, heading straight for the room where they keep the goodies. without you.

...

a dusty suit, sweat, aching shoulders and pure, unadulterated rage.

you need a new plan.

and a fucking drink.

[sodiumpentothol]

I've been tryin to come up with my own flawed ritual sam design that vibes with me without feeling too similar to other peoples' stuff, I tried not to turn him into a dragon but I think dragons are the only thing my brain can design right now OOF

This is definitely somethin that I vibe with a bit more, might need to simplify later because I'm a lazy fuck and I don't want to draw all those arms again OOF

[paging-possum]

Aro people can’t just be normal they have to be saying some shit like from the pebbles on the beach to the cobbles on the streets every stone that you can see will teach you rocks rock and if you wanna learn the history of earth from the present to your birth you gotta study rocks