#how'd i do?

[evilgoosegoose]

It was a tough battle, and they were losing, they needed help, it didn't matter how powerful, but they desperately needed it, the Justice League called upon every hero and rouge that had the possibility of helping them.

Danny arrived first, making record speeds using a portal made by Wulf to get close, he rushed over to help and assess the situation, after getting the absolute snot beat out of him, he announced "This is a problem for Future Me!" before pulling out his phone and calling someone, leaving the heavily battered Justice League stunned. He had a brief talk with someone named Dan, whoever that was and hung up, turned to them and said in the cockiest voice they had ever heard from someone that had bones sticking out of them "Now we sit back and enjoy the show."

Another portal formed right in front of them, this one was blue rather than green, and out stepped, or rather floated, an absolute monster of a 24-year-old.

[ac-art-and-stuff]

He stole a few cards from Kremy ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧

This all started with a google search of memes, then I came across save a horse ride a cowboy, which I learned is a SONG, that I then listened to, and my brain went "heh, Gideon and Kremy vibes- WAIT A DAMN SECOND." and thus...

✨this✨

plus a live reaction from Mr. Lecroux himself... ironically of course

*GATOR PANIK*

[sluttygallavich]

Ian and Mickey looking into each others eyes while Mickeys slapping Ian’s cock on his tongue and sucking the life out of him 😝😌😍

Mickey hears all the Lady Gaga queers collectively gasp when he pulls Ian’s half-hard length from his jeans. He’s not surprised. The two of them were still watching from the sidelines when the others started throwing their clothes around, and, frankly, Mickey didn’t see anything to write home about. Nothing like his husband’s gorgeous pink cock—nine inches, cut, and curved just so to get Mickey seeing stars on every thrust.

He feels more than he sees the others stopping to watch on appreciatively as Mickey gives Ian a few leisurely pumps to plump him up to full hardness before dropping to his knees at Ian’s feet. He tugs Ian’s jeans down and helps him step out of them, Ian taking himself in hand to continue stroking himself slowly, the slit of his cock already beading with pre-cum.

Mickey runs tattooed fingers up the back of Ian’s thighs and settles his hands on Ian’s ass, squeezing possessively. He looks up to Ian’s face and his heart gives a violent kick when he finds Ian’s hooded eyes already trained on him. Fuck. They haven’t really discussed this. What they want to do, what they’re comfortable with. Not the way they probably should have. But with their eyes locked on each other now, Mickey just knows. He belongs to Ian, and Ian to him. Signed, witnessed, and notarized, bitch.

Mickey’s never been too keen on sharing what’s his—probably something to do with growing up dirt poor and having to fight for every last scrap—and he’s sure as hell not about to start now, not when he’s finally got the one fucking thing in his life that’s ever been worth a damn. Worth everything.

Ian uses his free hand to run his fingers gently through Mickey’s hair before gripping on tight, and looking into his blazing eyes, Mickey just knows. Same page.

Keeping his eyes locked on Ian’s, Mickey opens his mouth and presents his tongue. Something inside him has settled in Ian’s gaze and now all he wants is to have Ian inside him. To taste him. To claim him and be claimed.

Ian groans as he slaps his heavy cock on Mickey’s outstretched tongue once, twice, three times before Mickey closes his lips around the tip so he can get a taste. Ian pulls back out and uses the dripping head to smear his pre-cum around Mickey’s lips before tugging on Mickey’s hair and issuing a single command.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

Mickey nods wordlessly and lets his mouth fall back open, tongue out and greedy as he waits for Ian to start slowly feeding him his length. Everything around them sort of whites out then—the strings of bright patio lights, the grating pop music, the heat of other men’s eyes.

Let these fuckers look all they want. Mickey even kind of loves the idea, if he’s being honest. Let them see how good they are together. How good they have it. Let them turn green with envy when Mickey takes all of Ian down this throat, eyes watering but still locked with Ian’s, and starts to suck the life out of him.

But let no one dare touch Mickey Milkovich’s husband. Not unless they want to lose a fucking limb.

[age-of-play-i-say]

Not Big Enough, pt. 1

"Now, my sweet boy, I promised you a playmate and I finally found one!" Daddy gestures up the stairs as he walks forward towards his Little.

Little wriggles in his playpen, dropping even younger at this announcement. Daddy had promised him a companion ages ago, before they even started potty training, but finding a person comfortable with their settled dynamic took time. Little one knew his Daddy would keep his promise, he just knew it!

As Daddy lets Little out of their playpen, he takes Little's hand to guide him up the stairs. Little forces himself to take slow, calm steps, to show Daddy that he can handle this. As they walked, Daddy spoke quietly.

"She's a baby girl, just like we wanted! Her little age is around where yours was when we started off together, so she's not going to be too verbal yet. We're going to forgo potty-training during our sessions until she's used to both of us and ready for it, but being around her all diapered up might trigger you. Daddy will keep a close eye and make sure you stay dry while this big change happens, okay?"

Little nods vigorously, feeling ansty as they approach the bedroom door at the top of the stairs that had lain vacant since he and Daddy started their headspace sessions.

"Are you ready to meet her?" Little keeps nodding hard and Daddy chuckles, "all right, be so quiet with your voice and so gentle with your hands, okay?"

Daddy cracks the door and turns to wink at Little.

They cross the threshold and Little sees their new Baby for the first time.

"Daddy, she's so cute! I! Daddy she's so pretty!" and she was!

Baby had big blue eyes, open and vulnerable, soft skin, (an adult woman's) soft breasts with big pink nipples, a sippie cup in her pink lips, a pink pair of lace-trimmed socks, and a big, puffy diapey between her legs, covered by a pink eyelet lace patterned cotton diaper-cover.

"Little, this is Baby! Can you say hi, Baby?"

Baby looks right at Little, knocking the wind out of his chest. She blinks and lifts her sippie to suckle at it again, looking right at him, too little to even be shy. She lifts a hand and scrunches it to make a fist, waving at Little.

Little gasps and shuffles forward, enamored.

"Hi, Baby!" Little answers Daddy, and Daddy laughs, dragged along by Little's hand in his.

"Wow! She's-wow!" Little is on his knees in front of Baby's daybed. Baby looks to Daddy for reassurance and Daddy reaches for her.

"I have your paci, if you want it, sweet Baby." Baby nods and Daddy leans over Little to pop it in her mouth. Feeling settled, Baby sits back on her tush and turns to Little.

"Hiii-" Little says again because he can't think of anything else to say. She's really here and loves his Daddy too! And she's so so little!

Baby reaches for him, and he immediately leaps up to shimmy over the bed. In their negotiations, she had mentioned how much a warm welcome and an actual accident on day 1 would be crucial to their dynamic's success, and Little was aching to fulfill his part.

He reaches her and looms over her nearly naked form, and plants little smooches all around her paci. She hums happily and rocks up into the kisses. Little eventually moves on to experiment with touching Baby's skin softly, rubbing up her arms and down her chest before circling her puffy, pink nipples.

Baby gasps but manages to keep their paci in her mouth. Daddy watches for the double tap on Little that means no but Baby is fully engaged, humping the bed in her padding now that Little is paying attention to her.

Daddy smiles to himself, forgotten at the edge of his little ones' play. A moment of peace, he'd be here as needed. He sits on the rocking chair in the corner and unzips, pulling out his weeping cock with a luxurious grunt.

Little climbs behind Baby and hauls her up into his lap, padded tush over his bulging training undies. He wants to feel her everywhere, but especially crinkling right up against his stiff lil flagpole.

He starts with her nipples again from behind and then rubs down her tummy, noting her intense squirm when he pressed below her belly button. He pressed again and she whined out loud.

Little was thrusting against her, no rhythm, all hips, his face screwed up tight.

"Baby, you make tinkle yet?" Baby shook her head, bouncing her tush on his stiffie. "You're too little to hold it, I help," and put both his strong hands over her bladder, pressing down hard.

"Relax, honey, don't hurt yourself. That's what your padding is for." Daddy saw Baby's temporary anxiety crest and fall before her nipples began pebbling and she sat perfectly still, gripping Little's pant legs behind her. A shiver ripped through her while Little still bounced her up and down and up and down. She grabbed at one of Little's hands on her tummy and spat out her paci.

"needa! needa peepee!" she howled and Little complied, pulling her closer to him and compressing her bladder until she burst.

Daddy and Little both heard the loud hissing start up and Baby shuddered and rocked while she emptied out into her padding, growing more pink and pliant with each passing second.

Being asked to sit still when he was right on edge was a lot, but Little wanted his Baby to let go. Once she did, he did his best to stay still until the warmth of her rapidly soaked padding began to register on his stiffie.

He gasped at the sensation, curling up to press his forehead to Baby's neck before releasing against her, jerking quietly while he came to the sounds of her babyish relief.

Both little ones dozed in relief to the soft, slick sound of Daddy in the corner, beside himself with arousal.

[suzy-queued]

Dock sluts, my beloved.

[fantasyinallforms]

I ran out of characters trying to answer you, @theladygreiwolf, so here we go!

Oh, you mean how Thorin is PB because he's solid and safe. His flavor shines through, but it's not the main attraction it doesn't need to be. It's there to add strength and substance. A PB sandwich can't stand alone. It's lacking something. It's incomplete, like Thorin without Bilbo. Bilbo is flavor; he's whimsy. He's not the safe or the filling option, but without him, the sandwich doesn't thrive it only survives. He's not as singly focused as Thorin and comes in many flavors. But just jelly as a sandwich will leave you wanting more. It will leave you still hungry and wishing there was something stronger to hold it together.

Together they make a pair that never gets old.

[johnlennon-as-a-tv-chef]

Can you please write about Milex getting together? Set in "One for the Road" song - where Alex in at Miles' having too much to drink, sitting on the floor tec. He then needs to be sick and Miles is helping him but he has realized that he is getting hard from feeling Miles over him holding his hair (humbug one). He then is trying to make himself sick again (putting fingers down his throat) and thinking it is Miles doing to him... Then everyone leaves and Alex decides to make the move...

Okay anon, this one took me a few days to write because I wasn't sure how to incorporate all the elements you requests in one piece. It also turned out a little longer than a drabble, but I hope you enjoy it.

Tw: puking, self-induced puking (not graphic), mention of sexual thoughts (not too graphic).

_____________________________________________

"A'right Al. You rockstar, you. Congrats on going platinum." Miles ruffles Alex's hair like he’s talking to a child. He knows Miles is being facetious but his words are laced with sincerity and his eyes are glinting with warmth, and Alex can’t help but smile.

Instead of acknowledging the greeting, though, Alex huffs and smooths his hair down. He's never had hair this long before, and as much as he loves it, he's still just getting the hang of handling it.

"Took you long enough to get here," he says moving his fringe out of his eyes with his index finger.

It's Humbug’s success party and Alex is flying high from praise, the sales, the numbers on the charts, and some blue pill someone handed him a while ago. He reckons he's earned it. This album had been a gamble. They had completely changed their sound. Initially, they even got some bad reviews, something they hadn't ever gotten before and the self-doubt had begun to set in. But the gamble had ultimately paid off, and this album could join their older ones on the proverbial mantle.

It's their success party so of course they went a bit too hard, and of course, they stretched it longer than they should have. When they pretty much get kicked out of the venue, Miles offers up his place for an ‘after-party’.

Which is how Alex ends up on the Scouser’s bathroom floor with his palms pressed against the cool tiles watching Miles through a veil of smoke - a calming respite from the cacophony outside.

"It's really that simple Al. Imagine if you put Bowie in a Bond film. It's like subverting the genre innit. People think they want what they're expecting, that they want predictability, but really it's the unexpected within the expected that really gets you going. But it has to be wrapped carefully in the expected for it to have maximum impact. D'ya know what I mean?."

Alex is only half listening, and truth be told, he has no idea what Miles is talking about. But he closes his eyes and smiles, nodding slowly because Miles's voice and the way it wraps around the words feels fuzzy and he just wants Miles to keep talking.

He feels a warmth rising in his stomach. Then it's not just warmth, he realises too late, but dinner and the nacho chips he'd swiped off Jamie a few minutes ago and the 5 taquila shots and how-many-ever other drinks he had downed through the night.

"Fuck, Al you okay?" Miles jumps off the toilet seat and lifts the lid just in time for Alex to grab the toilet bowl and start retching.

Miles moves behind him and holds Alex’s hair back as he throws up. All the while whispering soft words of encouragement. “That's it. Let it all out.” “You're alright.” “I got you.”

Miles is pulling his hair back, and he's tracing his fingers along Alex's forehead and ears and the nape of his neck trying to hold back the wisps of hair that find their way out of his grasp, and Alex’s still-too-drunk mind thinks, ‘I don't ever want this to end’.

Considering how plastered he is, he didn't think he was physically capable of getting hard, but well, Alex supposes he wasn't much if he didn’t exceed expectations. He doesn't think Miles realises what he's doing, or the effect he's having on Alex, because now he's patting his back with one hand while the other holds up his hair.

Alex isn’t completely oblivious. Some part of his brain has always been aware that he’s attracted to Miles - the way he plays his guitar, the way he says Alex's name, the way he makes Alex laugh, how he never makes him feel stupid even when he talks in tongues and stumbling over his words, and how he seems to have an eerie ability to read his mind.

Then there’s also Miles' eyes like coffee, warm and dark and always sparkling with mirth. His hair, soft and a little frizzy, that he insists on styling in a way that falls over his eyes simply because it kind of makes him resemble a couple of the Beatles put together. His nose, and the perfect bridge of it. Alex loves Miles' nose. He wonders how it would feel brushing against his neck, his cheek, his chest, his...Right, so Alex knows Miles is fit and that he's attracted to him. He just makes it a point to never look that realization in the eyes. He keeps these thoughts locked up and buried under layers of banter, and laughter.

But he's not as sharp right now and the insolent thoughts aren’t staying down.

He doesn't know how long it's been but he's gagging long after he's done puking, just dry heaving and spitting, trying to get Miles to continue doing what he’s doing for just a bit longer.

“You good?” Miles rubs soothing circles into Alex's back, and he just wants to sink into it. He wants to guide Miles' hand lower, to the front, have him stroke him, jerk him off. Alex is really high. The guards are out of duty and the thoughts are being rebellious, trashing the place up there and there's not much he can do to discipline them right now.

Thankfully, Miles leaves Alex to find water, with a "Hang tight, Al. I'll be right back”, giving him some moments of respite to collect his wits. He sits there for a few seconds willing his gut and his mind to settle. Then, out of boredom than anything else, he gets up on his feet, leans against the sink and looks at himself in the mirror. The alcohol and pill coursing in his veins liquify his reflection, making it swim out of shape. He stares into his own eyes. He stares and stares until they start morphing into another pair of hooded brown eyes. His lips, his hair, his nose. Alex is stunned but he can't look away. Instead, he lets his impulses have their way once more. Holding eye contact with himself, Alex sticks two fingers into his mouth, pretending it was Miles' long fingers that have often mesmerised Alex by. He pictures how they wrap around his guitar neck, and expertly dance on the strings, and how they might feel in his mouth. He gives his fingers an experimental lick before closing his eyes and sucking on them. And then he's pushing deeper and deeper until he’s gagging, spit pooling on the corners of his mouth. He has nothing left in his stomach to throw up so when Miles returns he finds Alex dry heaving into the sink.

“Al, you okay? Did you get sick again?”

Miles is back with some water and, it would seem, a stick of gum. “Here chew on this, you'll feel better." He says. What a beautiful thoughtful idiot. Alex just wants to jump him.

It's an hour later. Alex is feeling more sober but just so. If he squints he can see the first signs of dawn making an appearance. He’s standing on Miles’ little balcony smoking what he hopes to be his last cigarette of the night when Miles comes out and leans against the railing next to him.

"Whatcha doing out here?"

"Just tired."

It's a bit chilly, and he can see Miles shiver slightly.

“Yeah, I'm knackered too. Want me to tell everyone to fuck off?" Miles looks up into his eyes.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t follow Miles in, instead, he waits on the balcony till he hears the last of the ‘byes’ and ‘see yous’. Alex should probably offer to leave too but he figures if Miles wants him out, he would tell him so.

When he stubs the butt of his second cigarette and walks in, Miles is pouring the last of an almost empty bottle of vodka into a couple of glasses. "What's one more eh?"

Alex shakes his head and walks over to Miles’ record player and puts on the first record he can find lying next to the turntable.

It's Leonard Cohen. Of course, it is. Miles's latest obsession. They'd spent hours dissecting his music, his style, and his lyrics just the other day.

Alex thinks he's definately still drunk because nothing else can explain why he walks towards Miles and extends his hand.

He hopes Miles too is drunk enough to not be weirded out by the request.

But, here's the thing about Miles. Miles is never embarrassed and Miles is never ashamed. So he just smiles that classic Miles all-teeth-and-gums smile and lays his hand in Alex's. He grips Alex's hand and pulls himself closer.

Before he can fully comprehend what’s happening, they’re dancing. Miles is swaying from side to side and he’s taking Alex with him. Alex can’t focus on much apart from the feel of Miles' warm hand pressed against his back.

"Is this weird for you?" blurts out because he needs to know. He needs to know how Miles feels about dancing with a bloke, dancing with him. Its different joking around with friends and threatening to take the joke too far in front of others, and totally different when they're alone in a dark room, swaying to a ballad at 4 in the morning. He needs to know whether to keep at it or to make a run for it, and pretend he doesn't remember anything, blaming it all on the alcohol tomorrow.

"No, is it for you?"

Alex lays his head on Miles's shoulder in response and sighs “no".

It feels like it's a long time coming and it still takes Alex by surprise. It takes him by surprise even though he is the one that leans in and kisses Miles. Sure he's thought about doing it before, but he'd always looked at it as one of those intrusive thoughts, like when you think about jumping in front of incoming traffic or breaking into a dance during a meeting.

All he knows is that in that moment, with his head resting against Miles' shoulder, Miles' soft breath tickling his ear, and Leonard Cohen crooning in the background, all he could do is lean in and take more.

His second surprise is that Miles doesn’t push him away, doesn’t even look at him with confusion. Or worse, disgust. No, Miles just let's Alex pull him by the front of his jacket, and tightens his grip around Alex's waist ever so slightly.

It's a pretty chaste kiss as far as kisses go. It's quick and it's deliberate, like a handshake, Alex thinks to his own amusement. But he's never felt like going in for seconds with a handshake before.

“This - ” Alex says, pulling his face away just enough so that his eyes can focus on Miles. His breathing is laboured. He feels a bit lightheaded, and doesn’t actually know what he wants to say.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips that tingle with the faint taste of Miles.

Miles, on the other hand looks dazed as he stares back at Alex. He reaches out, places his palm gently against Alex' jaw and strokes his bottom lip with his thumb.

Even though they had always been comfortable with each other, perhaps a bit more than normal, now that he thinks of it, this feels strange, to be touched by Miles like this. But something about the fact that it is shrouded by the darkness of night and the faint moonlight seeping in from the balcony door he's left open, makes it feel okay.

“Yeah,” Miles breathes out in reply to Alex's non-sentence.

It doesn’t actually clarify anything, but Alex can’t help breaking out in a smile because it’s enough to silence the little voices of worry buzzing in the back of his mind.

“I've wondered what this would feel like ” Alex confesses, his gaze flicking from Miles' eyes to his mouth. To the lips that Alex now knows exactly how they feel pressed against his and what they taste like. After all these years.

“Me too,” Miles rushes out, the corners of his mouth lifting up.

Alex doesn't have enough time to process Miles' confession because then Miles is surging forward and catching Alex's lips again and that’s all he can focus on right now.

He feels like he's being drawn deeper and deeper into Miles, and like if he just let's himself go, he'll never be able to find his way out. He pushes Miles gently, breaking their kiss for a second time.

Miles doesn't look offended. Instead, he's breathing heavily, and fighting a smile. Maybe he feels it too.

"I'm glad we're on the same page then," Alex says once again leaning down to rest his head on Miles' shoulder, holding him just a bit tighter, surer, as they sway to Cohen singing about dancing to the end of love.

[trippygalaxy]

Isakai! reader watched Link their eyes filled with love and adoration, unspoken confessions buried deep down. But the more they watched, the more disconnected everything felt, Link drifts away from them...Still smiling. Reader realizes in the end, they’ll all go separate ways...And they would never happen...They were never meant to happen..

Reader, mentally distancing themself from Link: So long nice to know you, i’ll be moving on...

[deesi-academia]

It must be Halloween since you're tricking my heart and giving a treat to my eyes

[fantyan]

BEHOLD I would like to show everyone my Cas cosplay :D I went as Castiel to the last mole convention. This time I planning to go as female Crowley

[firowisteria]

Brenda Miller Stimboard

Baby love me cuz I'm playing on the radio How do you like me now? Radio - Lana del Rey

[cerealla]

After the dance.

[id: Painting of Laura Palmer, portrait format. She is curled on her side, hair messily tossed out above her head and facing the left end of the frame. Her right arm is under her head and the left is laying limply by her side. Her left hand is loosely holding the half-heart necklace James Hurley gave her. Her face is placid, staring with sadness at the necklace. She is in her white Homecoming dress and barefooted. Her diary sits on her lap while multiple love and congratulations letters are scatter around her legs, a pink one with a red emblem is tucked under her knees. To the right of her head is her Homecoming Queen tiara. The color palette is overall very cold and muted. the surface Laura is laying on is a purplish-red, and the pillow under her head is a very muted olive green. Her dress is pale white, and has dark purple shadows. The letters are of assorted colors such as green, orange, and maroon. The piece was created  with watercolor, layers of gouache, and finally pencil lines applied over the paint. /end id]

[108garys]

Marcia Nestor

@kassiekolchek22 @mistmoose @delurkr @dennisseyebrows @lonnitamongus I figured Mark's female equivalent should also have fantastic hair✨

I thought about colouring this or shading it with pens or something but I actually really like it as is😁

What can I say I really enjoy this as an exercise and I'm open to suggestions for characters I haven't done yet

[perpetualpeep]

Arcane, but make it an early 2000′s cartoon

[ryanstillwrites-if]

May I ask what the ROs and non-ROs look like? Wishing you a happy holiday!

because i have no technical skills, i've chosen face claims instead of using art breeder :)

Adelaide Scholz (Mary Jo Hamberg)

Adelaide has (originally blonde) dyed red hair, angular/gaunt facial features, an upturned nose, pale skin and blue eyes. she has a very thin and skeletal figure, and she stands at 5'6".

Hayden Della Rocca (Vittoria Ceretti/Marco Castelli)

Hayden has big brown eyes, dark brown hair, a straight nose and tan, sun kissed skin. they have a larger, softer body type, a large scar down the center of their chest and they stand at 5'11".

Gabriel Torres (Oriol Elcacho)

Gabriel has dark brown hair, grey eyes, a structured face, an aquiline nose and golden tan skin that has a slight yellow tint to it. he has a toned, muscular body with his arms and back covered in tattoos and he stands at a height of 6'6".

Jordan Michaels (Adual Akol/Ronald Epps)

Jordan has rich brown skin, black eyes, full lips, a nubian nose and black kinky hair, that m!Jordan keeps buzzed. they have a lithe body type and stand at 6'0". nb!Jordan leans towards a more feminine look.

Mavis/Maverick Chen (HoYeon Jung/Taemin Park)

M has pin-straight black hair (Mavis wears it to her shoulders, Maverick wears it cut to his ears), dark brown eyes, a rounded face with a small nose and warm toned skin. they have a lanky, slim figure and stand at 5'7".

Kade Weston (Corey Campbell)

Kade has light brown skin, hazel eyes lined with dark circles, full lips and coily black hair that he usually wears in protective hairstyles. he has an athletic body type on the thinner side and he stands at 5'8".

Margaret Evans (Valentina Yasen)

Margaret has snow white hair, blue-green eyes, thin lips, a straight nose and alabaster skin. she is thin and frail, and stands at a height of 5'4".

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Well how about you??? Fmk

Draken, Baji, Kazutora? No Shuji 4 u

My immediate instinct is Fuck baji Marry draken Kill tora

But if I think harder, draken might be too caring and nice and doting to marry for me so let's get hyper specific,,,

Fuck draken (still need the dick just not the devotion), marry post second jail stint tora (the only sexy clear headed tora imo) and kill baji on Halloween rip sorry buddy but you make the hubby's redemption arc possible.

Easy peasy

Keeping me from Shuji hurts the most