#indie drabble

[hanasnx]

“ I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN’ YOU ” — logan howlett.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ age gap ノ established relationship ノ size difference ノ suggestive content ノ sexual content: naughty daydreams about pussy eating, nipple play, and groping; masturbation; voyeurism.

“I’m gonna take care of you.” Those six words—six—have defined your relationship with your husband, LOGAN HOWLETT. There’s a great protector in him, this compulsion to mentor and house within him that stretches far beyond his own needs. You fall within that range, and as soon as you met him you latched onto him. It didn’t take long at all before your imprint was reciprocated. Now he thinks of you first in everything he does.

He may not always look it, but you’re a factor in all his decisions. Settling down, nabbing a good job—one that didn’t ask for his background—was all to put you up in a house in the mountains. Far away from civilization, an ivory tower made up of wood he cut himself, surrounded by acres of nature. He’s always thought of himself a hair on the wild side, somehow you tame that down. It’s good, he tells himself, you and him.

It’s a partnership, and all he wants out of you is your safety. He likes you where he can keep an eye on you, make sure you stay out of trouble, make sure you’re comfortable.

You wish you could explain just why he thinks he has to protect you, why he married you, why he pays all the bills and expects nothing in return. You wish you could explain just why this relationship comprises all facets of a real marriage except for intimacy.

Logan won’t touch you. You’ll eat off each other’s utensils, fall asleep on his chest on the couch watching a movie—hell, he’ll reluctantly incline in your direction with a roll of his eyes to let you peck his cheek good-bye when he leaves for work. Yet, he won’t even kiss you. Even before he married you, there wasn’t so much as a grope or a stray look.

There’s home in Logan. You live to please him. You’ll cook him whatever he wants, keep the house he built for you clean as a whistle, you’ll spend all your free time with him, grab him his nightly beer and light his cigar so he stays content—but you’ve never even seen him naked. You doubt you ever will. Regardless, you stay, you can’t imagine leaving this life, leaving him.

It’s defied your expectations the fairy-tales of your childhood gave you. Your knight in shining armor rescued you, yet refuses to plant even true love’s kiss. When you’d matured, you’d fantasized about an insatiable husband that found you so irresistible he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Logan’s never looked at you that way, even though he calls you his wife without hesitation, married you without a second thought.

“Is it because I’m younger than you? I’m only in my early twenties. That’s not a big deal!” you’ve reasoned with him, but he still treats you like you’re naive. He must want passion, you’re sure of that. Why else are you young and beautiful if not to take advantage of it while you still can? Just once you’d like to see him yearn for you, to show lack of restraint, to come home one day so hungry for you that you don’t make it out of the kitchen.

Those claws… those deadly metal claws… you wish he’d use them in fantastical and deviant ways. Just one would glide through your nighty like sheet paper, bareing you to your husband—a sight for him only. You lie awake next to him at night, envisioning raunchy dreams of him proudly boasting the size difference between you two, demonstrating his sheer raw strength by overpowering you and taking what he wants from you. You’ve run your fingers delicately over his lips and the rough pad of his shaved chin, but you can’t imagine just how good it’d feel against your tit, swirling his hot tongue around your perked nipple while his callused digits pinch the other. You can pretend his head is ducking between your thighs, the sensation of his soft hair tickling your skin and tangling in your fingers as his masculine jaw scratches the fragile tissue of your pussy. As starved as you are, even discomfort like that is enough to make you moan into your palm, only to check over your shoulder to make sure you still hear your husband’s snoring.

You steel yourself at the noise, the low rumbling of his sleep cautions you to stay quiet but to proceed nonetheless. Your hand creeps down your neck, your chest, your stomach… You really should leave the room, but you’d risk waking him up for real at the sound of the door. Instead, you fuck yourself yet again, the soft rocking of the mattress as you hump your own hand filling the ears of your kindhearted husband—who’s been awake this whole time.

[ddejavvu]

anakin kissing gum outta your mouth

oh indy i'm so glad you talk to me about gross!anakin cause he's my fav <3

--

yeah he does kiss gum out of your mouth. the first time he does it you are appalled. he grabs your jaw and leans in and you tuck it into the side of your cheek so that you can kiss him semi-properly but he jams his tongue rather unceremoniously into your mouth to fish it out. It's gross and spitty and drooly and wet, it's probably the sloppiest kiss you've ever gotten, but when he curls his tongue over it and sucks it into his own mouth you feel a fucking shiver up your spine. I'm talking one that tightens up your shoulders. Electric.

let me tell you he is delighted by how indignant/horrified you are. the more you huff and puff about how that was disgusting, how that was your gum with your spit on it, the wider his grin grows, wolfish and satisfied. it's an open-mouthed grin that perfectly showcases the gum he's still chewing on, and he grabs you around the waist when you try getting up to get another stick.

He'll take turns with you, but only because he gets to pinch your cheeks all hollowed and then spit the gum into your mouth. he gets a real nice view of your mouth open and ready for him, and depending on where he's put his massive hands, he can feel your pulse racing every time he manhandles your face. he might give you an extra glob of spit along with the gum but he wants you to let it pool around your mouth while you chew on the gum and mix it with your own spit, not waste it by swallowing it all

[glitterforashes]

𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩 ; 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

>>> drabbles for the main sally face boysss, sal fisher, and larry johnson. sal’s is inspired by bubblegum by clairo, larry’s is inspired by east liberty by partnextdoor.

𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 —

mildly obsessed with the uncertainty of ghost hunting.

too curious for his own good. literally curious george. the curiosity that killed the cat.

laid-back, doesn’t give a damn about most things.

has a very deep voice for a teenager. sounds like a literal grown man.

sometimes you can’t tell if he’s even awake.

“sal? sally? sal??” he’s just staring into the void.

“what?” he had to sneeze. that’s why he paused and went radio silent for two minutes straight.

you spend most of your time in his room, curled up on his bed reading while he sits on his bean bag chair and plays video games.

sometimes turns around to make sure you’re still awake / doing okay.

one time you put a toy rat next to him. he nearly shit his pants when he noticed it.

“(y/n)?” “hm?” “you’re fuckin’ ugly.”

doesn’t mean it. apologizes right after. he thinks he’s so funny.

grew comfortable enough around you to lift up his mask far enough to eat.

whenever you sleep over, he’ll take off his mask once all the lights are off.

loves watching movies with you, especially when there’s snacks involved.

will listen to every sanity falls album over and over again with you.

you had been switching between reading, doing homework, and playing video games for close to five hours, well into the twilight era of the night. it was 10pm when you decided to start getting ready for bed, being as both of you had school in the morning. you showered as sal brushed his teeth and combed through his hair, then switched. sal showered as you did your skincare and brushed your teeth and put your hair up. you both fell into his bed after he switched the light off, taking your respective sides. you liked to sleep next to the wall for the purpose of putting your body against it if it got too hot, and sal liked sleeping closest to the door for emergency purposes. you wore his tshirt and boxers, and he wore boxers. you turned over to face him, propping your arm underneath your head. he laid with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “sal?” “hm?” his gruff voice always soothed you in a strange way. “can i.. touch you?” you heard the movement of the sheets as he turned his head. even in the dark you could tell he was looking at you. “what?” “can i touch you? like, your face?” sal had never let you see his face up to this point. he preferred to keep it hidden, only sometimes letting you see his lips. he was silent. “you don’t have to.” “okay. you can.” you looked at where you assumed he was, breathing in deep. “are you sure?” “yeah.” he whispered. you slowly reached out, feeling out for where his face was. you found it, your fingertips pressing lightly against his cheeks. he flinched under your touch, a sharp inhale sounding through the little space you had between your bodies. “are you okay?” you whispered, starting to retract your hands. “yes. it’s fine.” you nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat that wouldn’t go away. you loved sal. you knew vaguely of his past and understood where the roots of his insecurity started, but societally accepted face or not, nothing would change your love for him. you gently ran your fingers over the expanse of his skin, feeling his lips and cheekbones, and the dips. the missing flesh, the scars. and you loved it. loved him, loved what made him so unique. you pulled your hands away slowly, grinning to yourself. you could hear the quiet sniffle. “sal? are you alright?” “do you think i’m.. gross?” he asked. your heart broke. you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. his arm slung over your body naturally, pulling you closer. “no, sally. i could never. you’re beautiful.” he turned his head, resting his face on your hair. you felt the very slight puckering of his lips as he kissed the crown of your head. “thank you.”

𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 —

his mom LOVES YOU. absolutely adores you. you two have girls nights all the time.

took you to the sanity falls concert tour for your birthday, kissed you in the rain, and took you home sopping wet. your dad wasn’t pleased.

“uh— we got caught in the rain, sir.” “i see that.”

apologized for weeks. it still makes you laugh.

smokes so much weed it’s a miracle he remembers his name.

“hey man, how’s my driving?” “…i think we’re parked, man.” vibes

you’re constantly sleeping over at his place, you have a drawer in his dresser dedicated to your belongings.

is very meticulous with his hair. has a hair care routine. refuses to cut it for any reason.

has painted you on multiple occasions. boudoir shoots happen often.

“paint me like one of your french girls.”

loves watching horror movies with you.

is surprisingly very gentle and sweet, especially when you’re upset. unless it’s with travis. fuck travis. all my homies hate travis.

“hey, girl. what’s the matter?”

holds you until you feel better and is very patient

listens to the sanity falls albums constantlyyy it drives you crazy.

“larry— stop. you’re gonna green out.” he exhaled a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face, smirking. “greening out is a make-believe concept made up by losers who can’t handle their marijuana.” you swear larry only knows big words when he’s high. when he’s sober, he has the articulation of the average seventh grader, but when he’s high he turns into fucking shakespeare and it’s crazy. specifically because if he’s high, there’s a good chance you’re high, and you won’t understand half the shit he says. the sound of the tardy bell rattled against your skull as it rung throughout the entire school, screaming at you and larry to get to class before the dean came hunting you down. you took one more big drag from the blunt you two had rolled during study hall before stamping it out and throwing it in the toilet, flushing the evidence. you two shuffled out of the tiny bathroom stall, looking at each other proudly. “sniff me.” you stepped closer and sniffed his shirt, him doing the same for you. “nah, i think we’re good.”

ya’ll were not good. both of you smelled absolutely rank, so it was truly no surprise when you ended up in the dean’s office, but it surprised you to see larry sitting in the office waiting area with a bloody nose. “oh, hey man.” you fist bumped him as you plopped into the chair next to him, manspreading the entire seat. “what happened to your face?” “fuckin’ travis wanted to run his mouth. kicked his ass, but when i turned around he clipped me in the nose. kicked his ass again, now i’m here.” “word.” you were so faded it was humorous. “what about you? what’d you do this time?” “ms. fat tits sent me out because i was ‘stinking up the room’ and if i ‘wanted to smoke pot and ruin my mind’ i needed to do it at home.” you cackled, larry joining in.

“is something funny?” the principal asked the both of you. you straightened up and held your breath, shaking your head no. you and larry looked at each other from the corner of your eyes simultaneously and you exploded with laughter. long story short you both got suspended for three days. did you give a fuck? hell no. hence why you were now in larry’s room in nothing but a sanity falls tshirt and underwear, rolling up another fat one. “you’re my favorite person, y’know that?” “(y/n), shut the fuck up.” he shook his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “you’re my favorite person too.”

[thatsdemko]

something bout you - p. o'ward

masterlist | pairing: Pato o’ward x Rossi!fem!reader summary: your love for him is different and he couldn’t love it more. warnings: 18+ content + mentions of Indy500 results + fluff + angst(?) + minor errors a/n: hiiii! Im back :) I’ve been working on this since the results of indy500 and while it’s not perfect I hope you all enjoy!

where your brother was a dark cloud on rainy days, you were the thunder and lightning that boomed across the sky alongside him. its enticing to someone like him.

he’s drawn to the identical to dark like storm eyes, black hair that sways across your back. you were rossi’s identical down to the bone. zak brown used to swear it was traumatizing, now Pato finds it adoring.

where Alexander was millennial humor, and minimal smiles, you were nothing but witty gen z comebacks and a smile once a month. Pato found your personalities jarring in comparison, but made it his mission to brighten your clouds.

“woah.”

it sounded more like a whoosh of air exhaling from his lips. seeing you in a dark blue floor length gown truly took the air and words from his lungs. it threatens the muscles in your cheeks to tug upward, but you refuse to give pato the satisfaction of a smile.

“what?” you whip your head in his direction. navy blue suit jacket, a white shirt that was slightly unbuttoned, and matching pants. he looks heavenly. you hate that.

“you look gorgeous, amor.” the nickname rolls off his tongue, a smirk tugging his lips as he watches red flicker across your cheeks. you didn’t need to show any other signs of affection for him to know that subtle weakness for him.

“and you look like a buffoon. not even a suit can help your case.”

a chuckle escapes his lips, and for the first time since sunday morning he’s actually smiling. leave it to a rossi to lift his spirits.

“you brighten my day, Rossi.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Alex comes up behind you. his black suit and dark blue tie matching your dress like twins.

right, he reminds himself, siblings. she’s not for you.

“other Rossi,” you reply turning to your brother, “you think way too highly of yourself.”

—

a permanent scowl formed the second Josef took the stage. it was a common look for you, though you masked it well during most days, tonight was one of those moments you let it rip.

Josef drove a hell of a drive yesterday, but seeing him on stage was all but a reminder of what Pato lost and for some reason that angered you. having to watch your brother, his sister, and his own team members lift him up from another disappointing loss trickles into your memory. it was a well deserved win for Josef, but your heart ached for somebody else.

somebody you definitely shouldn’t have feelings for, but you find yourself having. someone who opened up the dark cloud and made it a little brighter.

when Pato finally took the stage, all he could see was you. the scowl loosening from your face to a contorted smile. all energy from earlier drained out of him. having to be reminded of his failed efforts, but he did enjoy the view of you practically envisioning what it would be like to strangle newgarden.

“that’s two smiles this month.” Pato whispered into your ear when he passed you to his seat. he could hear a low grumble come from you, and the scowl was back, but aimed at him.

he reveled in it. taking in all your features and how hard you work to keep your vulnerability inside that hard shell. because for a split second when he took that stage he saw you for what you truly were; a fool in love with him.

—

“I like when you get defensive of me.” he says, coming up from behind you. he rests his chin against your shoulder, the hairs that fell out his gel slicked back tickle your skin.

“the scowl was out of annoyance. don’t think too deep about it.” you say, attempting to fight his touch, but it’s too much strength to do so. you just relax your body into his and allow yourself to be held.

“I like to think you actually do love me.”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you feel his lips graze the sensitive part of neck. you can feel your knees weaken, ready to crumble into his arms.

love was a strong word and emotion, but it never felt big and scary with Pato. love was different with him. different was good, different was better than whatever you’d read in books. you didn’t need the fairytales, you just needed someone to remind you to smile once a month. or not attempt murder when he lost important races.

“say it,” he mumbles into your skin, teeth running across your flesh, you can feel goosebumps scatter across your skin, “say you love me.” he takes a piece of your skin in between your teeth, the sound of your sharp inhale fuels the fire in him.

“I do,” you swallow, trying to steady yourself against him, “I love you.” you spin around to face him, your dark eyes stare into his chocolate ones.

he nudges your body towards the bed and you comply. seating on the edge of the bed, you watch him remove his suit jacket. the most mundane task, was such a turn on for you. you unconsciously open your legs for him.

“I love you too,” he presses his knee in between your thighs, gently dropping your back onto the mattress, “even when you want to murder me.”

“I’d murder for you,” you say pulling him by the collar of his shirt, “but if you don’t fuck me, I will strangle you.” you growl into his ear before sinking your teeth into the outer edge of his lobe.

“you always seem to have a way with the words.”

[doodlesdreaming]

“This concert was definitely worth sneaking into!”

Dance with the Dead AU- @zoanluen

[yameoto]

need to hear your thoughts on bare (2015) / dianna in that cause that movie was ass but sarah was so cute and literally a pathetic wet cat i need her

my roman empire is that dianna initially wanted the role of pepper. what i wouldn’t have given to have dianna agron play sleazy drug dealer hobo dyke. but sarah. god sweet!smalltown!sarah. need to be the one to corrupt her sweet silly silken angelface.

thinking about fucking her in the backseat of her boyfriend’s car. only in town for a day and you’ve got this pretty blonde wrapped around your finger. wrapped around your fingers. making her squirt all over the backseat so juicy the acids gonna stain the leather. listening to her gorgeous, breathy croons and airy moans of “fuck!” that sound more like puffs of air against your cheek. adorable. you know for sure this girl hasn’t had an orgasm not by her hand almost ever. has probably never so much as had a couple beers. smoked a lil shitty za that’s half lavender n half dirt from how backwater this town is. need to show her the real city. with real people. need to show her real sex, with her legs slung up over the car seats so you have full view of your fingers pumping in and out of her glistening cunt. all spread out and pulsing in the open, humid air. mouth hot, obscene wet noises squelching in the car, windows steaming up as your tongue swirls n you’re sucking on her clit. pushing three fingers in, even deeper. do all smalltown girls sound this melodic when they cum? do they all jerk their limbs like a skittering foal with their blonde locks sticking in beautiful curls around their sweat-sheened forehead? god. god. and it’s only when her back snaps and her mouth opens to cry out your name that she realises she doesn’t even know it.

[vrachis]

saw your post about poolboy!reader and as someone's who also at a pool, hell yes. reader trying to stay profession and not drool over hot women

also they would jump into the water to save a hot lady (who may or may not be faking to be carried by reader) m

oo! yes yes, i highly agree anon!

reader is always so professional when it comes to their job, trying to wander around the pool to lookout for others and be aware, but as soon as they meet women who are most likely to catch their eyes, that persona crumbles down!

they are so likely to internally scream at the amazing sights, trying to not drool so intensely at the view of women wearing revealing things. although they’ve seen countless women wearing similar things, nobody could beat the ones they see right now.

and as soon as one of them seem to be in possible danger, they’re quick to hear the pleas for help and jump into the pool heroically, taking the opportunity to shine and show themselves.

as soon as they have the lady in their arms, they’re quick to have the professional personality back on, to avoid any suspicious behaviour.

they still observe the way the woman would look at them astonished, thanking them confidently for the assistance.

reader as usual, gives a stoic “no problem, it’s part of the job.” but the lady seems to be unsatisfied by the response, seeing how they look like they have no interest in her whatsoever.

but then the vivid image of you eyeing them so intently earlier popped back up in her head.

so giving you a small smirk, she uses the advantage of still being in your arms to lean closer to you ear, whispering,

“is there any way i can thank you personally?~”

[oscolotlxzooxx]

My Queen, my Queen.

"My deepest apologies.. My queen." Kinger whispers to himself as he sits on the edge of the stage.

"A monstrosity like that was never like of you.."

Kinger looked down at his hands to stare at the robe that was once wrapped around a queen. The robe that used to glitch and distort on the day of Queenie's abstractory; now in perfectly good shape like it hasn't been touched in years. The soft texture of the fabric only made Kinger want Queenie to be right next to him once more. He wanted to feel that same comforting presence that she had left upon just one more time.

Thinking back to the day of Queenie abstracting replays in Kinger's mind. The way that Queenie looked at Kinger like he was her only hope of getting out of it alive brought tears in his eyes.. How her eyes twitched, and her hands got all shakey-She was unable to speak, let alone read her own thoughts. Kinger saw her leave her digital body to become something so much worse. How she didn't even scream after assuming that abstracting would cause so much pain left a permanent scar in Kinger's mind.

However, he wonders if abstracting is the only way out. If that were true then Queenie would be back to where she had first picked up that headset. She would had finally have the option to take it off her head after many many years of trying to find something that lead them out of the digital world.

But.. What if she's forever in her form? crying in agony from how much pain she must be in knowing that Caine will never figure out how to un-abstract her, and the rest that are down in the dark and sorrow cellars that Caine keeps them under.

Forever roaming in his thoughts, those same tears had start to run down his face. He balled up his fists, and ended up taking parts of the robe that was still in his hands in a tight hold.

Even after all of that thinking, Kinger doesn't know what to do. He knows he is no help to the ones who have already abstracted. How can he of all people fix something that is potentially forever broken?

"Someday, my queen.. Someday, When the time comes, we'll see each other again." Kinger says, holding up the robe to burry his face in while more tears leave his eyes.

The night went on with Kinger still clinging onto the robe of what once was worn by a queen, and is now used as a blanket for one who is huddled under a fort of pillows that the chess piece was taught to make for comfort to stop his thoughts from making him abstract.

[kyulets]

ˑ ?⃠⠀◣‸◢⭑ׁ⁠݂ _____⠀

ig: m6eul

[hanasnx]

x gon' give it to ya.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: @fuckmyskywalker introduced me to the concept of talking to a pussy i think via an anakin smut post and it changed my life so i'd like to dedicate credit to the idea. WARNINGS: fem reader | sex in the suit | deadpool calls himself daddy ironically and talks to your pussy.

A deep groan reverberates from low in DEADPOOL's throat. "Baby, I can't believe how good you look right now, seriously never looked better." he praises, commending the space between your legs as she's stuffed full of every inch of his dick. Another inexplicable thing about his mutation—he grew.

"'Talking to my pussy again, Wade?" you scoff, amused and breathless as you rock back on him, tossing a glance at him over your shoulder. Your spine is in a deep arch over the bed, and the nine inch heels you're wearing are the only reason you're able to compete with his height bent over like this.

"She needs to know what a good job she's doing otherwise she'll get discouraged. Poor thing needs a lot of love." he refutes your judgement, however playful, lovingly stroking the flesh of your ass with his glove. "Give us some privacy, please. Jesus." he tsks, shaking his head at you while you bury your face in the mattress. If his dick wasn't yanking your brains out along with it, you might have more to say. He turns his attention back where your bodies conjoin. "Thank God I put zipper on this thing. Who knew a onesie would be such a hassle to take a piss in?" The sounds of the room are filled with him running his mouth and your cunt's wet responses when he pulls out and shoves back in. "Now look at us." A particularly moistured sound squirts out, and he laughs knowingly, like your hole's said something entertaining at a tea party. "Zipper makes it too easy, you know? We've gotta stop meeting like this, maybe next time we can just sit and talk—"

"Wade!" you giggle, banging your fist onto the mattress. "Just fuck me, already!"

"Don't worry about her, she's just jealous." he tells your cunt, "You and I have something special, don't we? 'Specially when Daddypool says to christen the suit." A wave of wetness wells up from his comment, and he gasps in pleasant surprise. "Oh, you like that, you dirty thing. Next time I crotch-shot a bad guy he'll smell you all over, is that what you want, you freak? C'mere, I'll give you something real to leak about." Big rough hands grip on your hips, slamming into you so hard your ass ripples from the effect, and your happy pussy gargles around the dick it chokes on.

[ddejavvu]

idgaf about eddie but i’ve wanted venom since i was a wee lad. venom who’s all big and mean and manhandles you because you’re nothing. talks about how he could squash you like a bug between his fingers yet here you are letting him fuck your interesting little human pleasure hole

FUCK indy i've had this brewing in my inbox and now i've finally got the time to give it the attention it deserves <3

this post is 18+, minors dni. cw for mentions/'threats' of extreme violence/death, don't like don't read.

"I could kill you," Venom grunts, not a threat but an observation, "I kill lots of people."

Your face pinches down into a grimace but the waver in your voice isn't from the imagery, "Venom, no, don't- don't say that! I don't want to know."

His viscous appendages, more tentacle than hand, edge deeper into your hole, filling in every inch of space and unconstrained by defined mortal flesh. A web of the black goopy substance holds you against an empty wall in Eddie's apartment, pinning your back to the brick and scraping your skin.

"But you liked hearing me tell you," The symbiote practically purrs, his voice gravelly and miles away from the safety of human baritone, "Your hole got tighter around me when I said it."

"No, it- I don't like- no!" You gush, unable to defend yourself but desperate to save face, "That's not true."

"It is," Venom presses, another stray tendril suctioning to the curve of your ass and leaving burning skin in its wake, "I will do it again. I am stronger than you."

As a testament to his statement, he expands the web of black fluid that's holding you against the wall, forcing it around your neck like a snug sleeve. He's right; you can't move. Of course you'd known it since the first time you laid eyes on the alien, but the effortless proof he offers you has your hole fluttering around his tendril once more.

"I could smother you," Venom continues, and you feel a distinct throb between your legs, his makeshift dick only seeping further into you, "I could flood your lungs and drown you," He threatens, the slime crawling up around your chin and mouth, hovering teasingly over your nose as you frantically gasp through it, "I could squeeze you until each of your bones break and you are helpless."

You do more than clench around him. The acrid stab of fear in your chest couples with the rising swell of bliss below it, and you wriggle your hips pathetically in his strong grip as you ride out your orgasm on his tentacle.

"I was right," Venom concludes, far from human niceties, though he still suspends you against the wall as your limbs sag with exhaustion, "You want me to kill you."

"No, Venom," You swear, though you don't have the energy to be as alarmed as you should be, "I- I don't want you to kill me. It's just- sometimes I think it's hot to remember that you could."

Milky white eyes blink at you, once, twice, and Venom decides, "I do not understand humans."

But you're saved the effort of explaining yourself when he draws his tendril out of your sensitive hole, letting his obscenely long tongue draw your wetness into his mouth, "But if you think it is hot, I will not let you forget that I could crush you."

[terror-billie]

Glimmers in the Penumbra

I assembled this zine to collect drabbles written for my D&D group, and I'm sharing it with you all today.

This is for you, @tofucasserole , @varethinsilico , @nautilusopus , @rosemochi , and @fury-brand

Special thanks to @fury-brand for drawing the illustrations used in this zine and for buying my drabble commission slots on behalf of the group. She has made a lot of really cool art for our group and for her character Dia especially, so you should check it out if you like this!

This was a really fun project. It was great to play in the 100 word limit with different styles and character voices to make something tailored for each character.

I assembled this zine so that I could make a special and unique home for all of the pieces together. It was put together in Scribus, a free and open source layout tool.

If you enjoyed this zine, please consider a donation to Crips for eSims for Gaza or at Gaza Funds.

Full Text Transcript Below the Cut

Full Text Transcript

Glimmers in the Penumbra A Tabletop Roleplay OC Drabble Collection

--

Embodied

The snow feels wrong. It mushes against the strange pliant dough stretched across her soles, shoots her through with a kind of pain she's never felt before. It bites, metallic, as though she can feel the pinprick of each shard of each snow flake. The air, too, grips her. All of this, wrong. Never before had the winds caused her pain, nor had snow felt anything but pleasant on even her tenderest scales. Winter has abandoned her. It was in her very weft and now all she has is this naked pink putty. No way for a dragon to live.

Dia Istehar

[Includes an illustration of Dia holding herself in a gust of snow and wind.]

--

L’Enfer

Fire's heat. Warms, tickles, crisps. Pleasure becomes pain. Sears, destroys, consumes. Ashes to ashes.

Vous qui entrez, abandonnez toute espérance.

No way to snuff a forest fire once it's caught hot and tall, naught but to let the blaze run out. A heart is like that. A little fire you can throw water over, but the burn in him grows fast. All you can do is get out the way.

Watch for smoke.

What's a flame want? Nothing but to burn. Bright and hot, alive until it's out. Doesn't care what's burning, where or how. But a man's heart? Well.

L’Enfer - The Inferno Vous qui entrez, abandonnez toute espérance. - Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

Ozias DeVir

[Includes an illustration of Ozias lighting a cigarette.]

--

Song of the Princess

She is come from a castle in a far away land, from a lineage ruling for generations.

Hath traveled the lands in great odyssey, and suffered many a hardship and poverty.

O Princess, Sweetest Briar with thorns sharp, stand strong against despair. Nobility is not in gold but in heart and deed and bearing. Retain thy grace and thy dignity. Fear not the dark and the wicked, for thou art puissant. Magic courseth through thy veins as fish in a stream.

Know that one day thou wilt reclaim thy birthright. So sayeth this poem, written in serenade of a princess.

Briar Allaire

[Includes an illustration of Briar, regal in a crown.]

--

Idle Musing

Life should be fun. Things would be far too boring without a bit of mischief to keep it interesting, ya know? Just a dash like spice in the stew. Nothing serious, maybe swipe a shiny here or snack there.

Things can change pretty fast out on the road though. It gets scary out there, with monsters and bad guys. Sometimes I think I should have just stayed home.

But hey, one minute you're strumming along up and down the strings of a bouzouki, tickling the melody to and fro, and bam! Out comes the zouka. Didn't expect that, didja spookies?

Kaapro

[Includes an illustration of Kaapro, a Kenku, smiling and playing a bouzouki.]

--

Sacrament

"Go and sin no more."

The other man, the one on the other side of the wooden screen, knows what a joke it is. He says it anyway, and manages not to laugh. It's procedure after all.

A rosary and an extra Our Father. A man's life snuffed out, his blood on the stone, and all Lucere needs to do is mumble some words.

Done in God's name, isn't it a Holy act?

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Deliverance won't come, but so too will he sin again. He always has and always will.

Lucere Crough

[Includes an illustration of Lucere holding a rosary in his hand, covering half of his face.]

--

Just World Fallacy

Let us consider the situation rationally. Which situation is more likely?

The first, that I was conceived by two emotionally stunted people unprepared for the maturity, care, and mundane sacrifices of parenthood? That I lived at the whims of a man who took out rage and fear on his vulnerable son? That my mother could bring me into the world but shrink my existence so small in her heart that she could ignore it? That suffering is largely beyond our control and the world is fundamentally unfair?

Or that I am unloveable and it's my fault?

The answer is obvious.

Pinion Andolus

[Includes an illustration of Pinion where you cannot see his face, gazing at unbalanced scales.]

--

Knight in Shining Armor

My face mirrored in a gleaming scale. I chased it like the glint of oasis after days walking parched sands. Was it a mirage? I follow its path and come no closer, but the image does not fade. Still there, out of reach, ever on the horizon.

What is she really like? I've imagined her on the highest pedestal, with every sublime virtue, and in the deepest depravity, with every foul cruelty. Perhaps she is simply a well-meaning fool, doing her best.

Do I truly want to know? Would the mirage dissolve, and would that be for good or ill?

Okaara Justa

[Includes an illustration of Okaara, a half-orc, gazing at her own reflection in a piece of plate armor.]

--

寝袋詰め 心の準備 と出かける

「一緒に」

romaji reading: shurafuzume kokoro no junbi to dekakeru

「issho ni」

The bedrolls are wrapped. Ready for what awaits them, the party sets forth.

[Together]

[No illustration]

[7ndipity]

"So whenever you ask me again how I feel, please remember my answer is you."

[virtualwh0r3]

I WANT TO SEE MICHEAL AFTON WHIMPERING AND WHINING IN PINK LINGERINE WHILE ME AND HIM REFORD A SEX TAPE NOW 💯💯🔥🔥!!!

I might write this.

[cilil]

AN: @niennawept reminded me that UFO can also be read as "unfinished object" among crafters which gave me an idea. Thank you, friend!

┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆★ Prompt: UFO | Indis x Míriel ┊ ┊ ★⋆ Synopsis: Indis holds on to Míriel's last work. ┊ ◦★ Warnings: / ★⋆ Drabble

The queen's last project remains unfinished. 

Indis holds it in her hands as she's done countless times, studying every detail of Míriel's masterful work. It's beautiful even in this state, and she knows how marvellous her other works are. This one would've been too. 

She's contemplated trying to finish it for Míriel; to honour her, to ease the pain that comes with leaving what you love behind. But Indis has decided not to, worried that she could never do it justice. 

Thus she keeps it safe instead, waiting for the day Míriel returns so she can give it to her.

There's something about small acts of care and kindness between fellow ladies that has me in a chokehold. Anyway. Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @elanna-elrondiel @i-did-not-mean-to @urwendii

[olovelymoon-slow-answers]

Writing and translation commissions in exchange for donations to Palestinian fundraisers

Hello! I don't even know if anyone will see this post, but I've been thinking of doing this for a while. In exchange for donations to a Palestinian family you can get:

A fanfiction or other kind of story from me. I'm putting a list of fandoms I know enough of to write at the end of the post. Here is a post with some writing samples. I can write both in English and Italian. For 5 dollars/euros/60 SEK etc. you get a drabble. The larger the donation, the longer the text. I do not write smut.

A translation of anything you might need. My first language is Italian, I speak English fluently and I have a B1 in French.

I intend to extend this to all fundraisers, but because of the urgent situation, now I want to focus on @mohammedhaboubsblog 's fundraiser. His family is at risk of being kicked out if they don't pay rent in 7 days. His sister has been severely injured and cannot move. Vetted here.

Once you have donated, send me a private message with a proof of donation and tell me what you want. If you reblog this post and ask for someone to match your donation, even better!

Fandom list:

• Percy Jackson

• Harry Potter

• Murder Drones

• The Amazing Digital Circus

• How I Met Your Mother

• Friends (season 1 and 2)

• Greek and latin mythology and literature

• Historical figures (I know a lot about Henry the VIII's wives, Marie Antoinette, Cleopatra, Roman and Greek history, but feel free to ask for anything else)

• Classic literature (Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, The Picture of Dorian Gray, North and South, Little Women... you can ask for other stuff, I can't think of every single title right now)

• Studio Ghibli movies

• Amphibia

• The Owl House