#processing n such

[solroskajan]

They deserve more hugs. 

[obsob]

days are getting warmer but i am always warm when im with you ! !

[inklessletter]

"Eyes on me. Yeah. Good boy."

---

Thank you so much for trusting and sticking around.

Steve says thank you 💛

[bimbobaggins69]

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈

Eddie is being driven up the fucking wall and he’s at his wits end. He can’t take it anymore, not when you’re prancing around the apartment with a tiny, see through, white nightie. The material is so thin he can see your nipples and the way they’re peaked, right through the fabric. It’s like you’re doing it to be cruel, although Eddie knows this is your everyday usual sleep attire, he just wishes for the sake of his newly pierced cock that you wouldn’t do all the things that turn him on so fiercely, which is quite literally just you being yourself. He couldn’t help that he thought the mundane shit you did; like the way you slurped up your spaghetti or flipped through the television channels, was so effortlessly sexy. But he’s aching for your touch, so when his good friend/piercer Nate gave him the go ahead to masturbate, he concocted a devious little plan, one that would involve you and him getting off, together.

So that’s how you found yourself laid back on your shared bed, legs spread wide as you plunge your fingers deep inside your creamy cunt, wet squelches reverberate off the walls making Eddie groan as he watches you at the foot of the bed. His hard, leaking cock in his hand; pumping up and down to the image of you pleasuring yourself so beautifully for him. The glint of the jewelry catches your eye, finding Eddie’s big brown orbs before trailing down his tattooed and pierced body, taking in the image of his newest piercing and how you couldn’t wait to see what it felt like buried deep inside your walls, hitting your spot until you eventually squirted all over Eddie and the mattress. That image has you immediately clenching around your fingers and biting your lip as you stave off yet another orgasm, edging yourself to near painful levels.

Eddie immediately gets a better idea and crawls up the bed, now hovering above you as his hair forms a perfect curtain, secluding you both off from everything else around. “Fuck, I need to feel some part of you princess.” He confesses as he begins to glide his lube slick cock over the entirety of your slit. The jewelry rubs against your clit so perfectly, your legs begin to tremble and your back arches off the bed in an almost exorcism like fashion. The way the cold, wet metal rubs over your swollen bundle of nerves; ever so gently, has you closer to the finish line quicker than anything ever has before. Everything is so slippery with perfect friction, making your pale pink polished toes curl as you raise them higher in the air. Trying to open yourself as wide as possible, selfishly taking everything you can as your high hits you like a ton of bricks. Body spasming as your walls clench tightly around nothing and your eyes snap shut, stars dancing across your eyelids. Eddie continues rubbing the underside of his cock over your cunt until he’s shooting spurts of his warm, sticky cum all over your stomach; most of it pooling in your belly button. Eddie eagerly slurps it up, then spits it into your awaiting mouth before his soft, sodden lips find yours as you both swap his cum in a greedy, tongue filled kiss.

Part two

[nohomie]

New friend?

Unedited version + those funky text stuff that you may like to read properly below the cut:

First circle text:

You are who you always will be. Caged by pure definition and perception. Self is not absolute, never complete. As long as there is a you that is perceived by the other, you will never have a self that is completely yours.

Second circle text:

Once a saint always a saint. Once a monster always a monster. Convince as one might, they are eternally damned by title alone. If not the boy who cried wolf, or the flock themselves, the hands will serve as one's signature. One's reminder. There must be a god to allow them to never precieve one's self. We wonder... should one look into one's eyes, --should they dare,-- will one find a soul? Will one weep? Will one smile? Will one find the name they have been given? Or the name they have chosen for one's self?

Just a buncha words for Wally's whole mental state lol

[annqer]

my contrition is like ashes, help me in my final condition

[bebzbrainw0rmz]

Let Pav duel wield his gun and sword please please please

Ngl only drew this so I could link my pav playlist

[panther-asterisk]

[starrylevi]

You’re walking up to Levi, catching him as he hands a swirled lollipop to the last child on line. You see him take a pause for a short moment, staring at the lollipop with a small frown as if he’s remembering something. He briefly closes his eyes, lamenting in whatever memory is in his head before opening them and giving the excited child the treat. For anyone else, this doesn’t mean anything. But you know Levi, and he’s had moments like these before, when anything in his environment triggers a memory. He wears the same pained expression every time, and every time you feel your heart ache.

“Hey.” You say softly with a small smile as you approach him, gently placing your hand on his forearm.

He looks up at you, his eyes sad and childlike for a moment before he answers. “Hey.” He sighs.

You hate seeing him like this. “You know….they’re probably making fun of you right now.” You tease, trying to make him feel better.

You watch Levi’s eyebrows knit together out of confusion.

“Hange would never let you live this down.” You clarify for him, referring to the fact that he was giving out candy.

Levi immediately rolls his eyes but you see a ghost of a smile on his lips. It doesn’t last long. “Good ol four eyes…” You hear him say quietly, looking straight ahead as his features soften at the thought of them.

You move your hand from the loose grip on his arm to his shoulder before leaning down to mumble into his hair. “I miss them too.”

You feel Levi’s hand move over to where your hand is resting on his shoulder, his two fingers securing your hold on him. His touch is gentle but firm. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to. He lets out a small hum of approval, briefly closing his eyes at the feeling of comfort you bring him.

You can’t bring back his fallen comrades; you can’t replace them either. You know you can’t fill that hole. However, that doesn’t stop you from pouring love into it.

[chrliekclly]

[obsob]

one small step for. kitties

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

guy who so desperately tries to find god. who wants to have faith in a higher authority to guide him out of the hole he's in. from the weight of guilt from simply existing, as the person he is. but every time he thinks he's answered his higher calling it turns out he's made the Morally Incorrect choice and his path to goodness and holiness was the road to the devil all along

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: Bakugou dies but comes back to life, “comes back wrong” trope, implied fighting, angst

When Bakugou died, you’re not sure how you went on living. Grief had taken over your life, sat you in the passenger side while it cruised off the highway into icy waters. And even then, you couldn’t find the energy to drown.

It’s why there’s a sudden uptick of energy when you’re promised to have him back. Some top scientists contact you months after his death, tell you to hurry down to the headquarters labs, come and rejoice for what you’re about to witness. And you’re horrified, to say the least.

“This isn’t my husband.” Are your first words when you walk in, watch the figure on the other side of the glass examine its own hands. It looks like your husband but—but his hair isn’t the right shade of blond all over. His nose bridge had a slight bump after a scuffle with a villain. He had a scar on his hand but—but it never looked like it was to sew a pinky beside the other fingers.

“Is that really my husband?” You ask next in disbelief, slowly entering the room. Bakugou’s head snaps up, his eyes a little brighter than you remember but—they hold so much emotion. So much memory, so much panic, so much guilt.

“I left you.” He mutters, his voice raspy and ragged, and you wonder if it’ll always be like this now. It makes you cry a little harder than it should, but you only embrace each other. He’s cold and his shoulders don’t hold the same mass and his back doesn’t carry the same scars. There’s one, jagged and rough, running down his back, and you think, you think that’s where they slipped a new spine in.

“Welcome back home.” You tell him, weeks after meeting him again, new and not totally—Katsuki. He’s stiff and he doesn’t immediately take off his boots when he enters, and it worries you. Makes you think if you’ve just let a stranger into your home, one that has stolen your dead husbands face. Makes you wonder if he’ll be as loving as Katsuki once was, or if he’ll become your monster looming over you with the guilt of not being able to rest anymore.

“I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper against his mouth one night, a little while after he’s moved back. You don’t know why you lay under him, why you let him nestle himself inside of you, why you let him hold you against his chest. Katsuki always ran his hands over your cheeks and neck whenever he held you like this, but this…man, only holds himself up with his hands resting beside your head. It’s alien, how he looks at you, how his hips are methodically measured with every thrust, how he kisses you every 8 seconds. You wonder if he’s more robot than Frankenstein monster.

“Why did you come back to me like this?” You ask him one night, barricaded in the bathroom away from him. You can hear his sobs on the other side, his pleading to be let in. He tells you he never wanted to come back if he had to be like this, that he’s sorry, please let him in, he misses the warmth of your skin, he’s never been so cold before, he’s never liked the cold.

“Is this considered cheating?” You ask yourself aloud one night, when Bakugou is forced back to the lab when he becomes too…un-Bakugou. To sleep with a man that is your husband in every way but? Your husband has been dead for a year now, and yet you stroke the chin of the man that tries so hard to be him everyday, but fails so miserably at it every time.

“I’ll come back to you right this time.” Bakugou promises to you when he’s strapped down to leave for the lab and before he’s sedated. But you don’t believe him—you never did. Your husband is dead, and this animated corpse has been nothing but a cheap mockery of everything you’ve lost and something you will never truly get back.

[gmaybe666]

'sorry I dragged you into this'

an evening jargyle sketch that I will work on more.

[theexorcistiii]

Chainmail chest plate made of ceramic faces that I made :) 👼

[kazuaru]