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#thank you everyone who has supported me thus far!!!
maepop · 9 months
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it's the italicized fanfic "Oh." but said with more horror
redraw 3 years later from 2020 LOL
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gigi-does-art · 9 months
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It’s been a bit over a year since I first created this account to post my art and even some ideas that I have made. I originally started this account to share my Witcher art of designs for the characters as cats, then getting really interested in Resident Evil and creating designs/art for the characters as well. And I would like to say thank you to everyone that has shown me any type of support throughout this year! Just know that I am always grateful for every like, reblog, and comment that I get on any of my post qwq. I’m also grateful for any follow that I receive on this account. Knowing that people enjoy the content that I have made is just so wonderful to hear 😭. All forms of support and interactions I receive have been greatly appreciated and cherished, thank you once again!
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genderqueerdykes · 6 months
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disabled trans person need help paying for food, necessities + shipping supplies for shop after being homeless for 6 months
hello, my name is equinox, i am severely disabled autistic trans person dealing with schizophrenia, PTSD, arthritis, hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome, degenerative disc disease and gastroparesis. i am a wheelchair and cane user. i am recovering and stabilizing after being homeless for 6 months; i just spent 2 full months living in a hotel paying $38/night. i have relocated into my apartment that i was waiting 6 months for due to the subsidized housing program taking forever to calculate my earned income
i just paid $307 for my deposit + prorated rent in order to move in, as well as a $20 electric bill and a $35 bill to get internet set up, which is required for my jewelry business. i also had i also currently need a lot of things in order to make my house livable including a bed and food, and being able to get to the pharmacy for my medications. right now i have no food in my home due to having to spend money on uber XLs to and from my motel and storage unit in order to get the few possessions i have like blankets and personal belongings. i lost a lot of my kitchen supplies when transitioning between staying with friends for a while
i have almost no money on me right now. i will be re-stocking my shop with new items later today, but for now I need help being able to afford my living expenses as well as being able to afford to ship my products out to my customers. thank you to everyone who has helped thus far you have kept me safe for 6 months. you can help me here:
cash app: $glitterGraphix pay pal: glittergraphicnightmare@ gmail .com chime: $Equinoxian venmo: $Equinoxian
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reiderwriter · 1 year
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Margaritas and Mistakes pt. 2
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Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader
Genre: Smut, just filth really, nothing else. 18+ MINORS DNI!!
Summary: The morning after your night out you wake up and have to come face-to-face with the consequences of your actions. You find you quite enjoy those consequences though.
Warnings: Suggestive BDSM themes, soft!Dom Spencer (I'm a simple woman), daddy kink, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (F receiving), vaginally sex, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, degradation, name-calling, pet names (baby girl, princess etc.), unprotected sex (no creampie).
A/N: Here's the much anticipated part two for yesterday's fic. Thank you for being patient everyone, and sorry to tease you all by having this completely written before pt 1 was even published but sometimes the anticipation only makes it better lol... Hope you will forgive me 🙏 ALSO! I hit 300 followers on this account yesterday, and I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has supported my writing here thus far! I can't do anything to celebrate as I'm on holiday for the next few days but thank you so much ♥️
Check out Part One!
Requests are open, and in the meantime please check out my masterlist!
When you woke up; that morning, you could instantly feel something was different. Not wrong, just different.
It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, in fact the way the quilts laid on top of you kept you almost deliciously warm in your bed. It wasn’t the general mess of the night before either, as, surveying the room with one half cracked eye, you noted that all your discarded clothes seemed to be either neatly stacked away in the corner or perhaps left in the laundry hamper in your bathroom. The curtains were open, which you guess was somewhat of a change, but you honestly forgot to close them at least twice a week, so that wasn’t what it was.
You left out a quick yawn and decided whatever it was wasn’t as important as sleeping off the absolute killer headache that was currently burning a hole in the back of your head, a constant thumping that you wanted to do your best to avoid for now.
It was when you snuggled back into your sheets and attempted to turn over to find a new position that you realised exactly what it was that was wrong. You weren’t alone.
Cursing yourself for drinking so much you stayed as still as possible, as the man in bed next to you groaned in his sleep and seemed to pull you in tighter to his chest. You weren’t exactly complaining, but you couldn’t help the panic forming in your mind, as you absolutely had no recollection of bringing anyone home.
Scratch that, you had no recollection of getting home yourself at all.
Whoever it was, it was evident that he’d at least somewhat taken care of you. You couldn’t feel the mascara you’d worn last night glueing your eyelids shut, so obviously one of you had had the foresight to remove your makeup, and you honestly doubted it was you. The fact that you were wearing pyjamas, too, was probably a more positive sign. If you did have sex with the man, he’d most likely encouraged you to put clothes back on so you didn’t catch a chill in the night.
And boy did you hope that you had gotten lucky with whoever it was at your back last night. You couldn’t see his face obviously, with your back pressed up against his entire body, but you could feel him and he felt delicious.
He was long, and lean, but you could feel some strong muscles underneath as well. Even in sleep, he had a strong grip on your waist, the pressure of it pulling you back so your ass was directly in line with his crotch. You were almost tempted to shift slightly, to see if it’d give you a few more ideas about who your mystery man could be.
The best thing about him, thus far, however, was his scent. You knew that after drinking all of the alcohol you remembered ordering last night - and perhaps more that you didn’t remember - you absolutely didn’t smell that hot. And after a night of partying and dancing, too, you could almost feel the winter sweat sticking to your skin. Your bedmate, however, smelt absolutely fucking amazing. He had a musky, earthy scent, but it didn’t seem artificial. It felt warm and homely and all you wanted to do was turn around and nuzzle into his neck so you could breathe him indeeply.
But you had no fucking clue who this was, and you were coming up with blanks as to where you could’ve picked him up.
“Think, Y/N, think for once,” you whispered to yourself, chastising yourself for going shot for shot with Emily of all people.
You remembered being in Penelope’s apartment listening to Emily talk about her love of chardonnay, and you remembered the girls promising to find you a man that night. They’d obviously succeeded, but at the cost of your entire memory of the situation.
You thought a little harder again, back to sitting at the table and your stupid little game of fuck, marry, kill where you’d amitted your growing attraction to your office’s resident genius, and then downing a probably near fatal amount of shots to inspire your friends to forget they heard anything, and then… And then it all goes blank.
So you had no clues as to who your mystery man could be, and you didn’t want to risk waking him just to find out. In a last ditch effort, you cracked your eyes open again and reached out for your phone, sitting prettily on your nightstand, plugged in and charging. Whoever this man was, he was a saint, because if you couldn’t remember getting through the door, you definitely didn’t put your own phone on charge.
Trying not to stretch too much, you grabbed the phone and bought it as close to you as possible, shielding your bedmate from the light coming out of it. You immediately opened the messages, and your stomach dropped at what was waiting for you there.
Emily: I TOLF U I WAS A GR8 WING WOMAN!!1! When you two make baby ggeniuses, dont say I dind’t tell you so.
Penelope: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Which is admittedly not a lot, but still!!!
JJ: Remember to take advil in the morning, I’m sure Reid will remind you as well, but you drank a lot tonight, and you never know when we’re going to get called in 🙂
The messages didn’t give you much of the context you needed, especially the ones sent by Penelope and Emily, but there was enough there to work out that you had majorly fucked up. And the sound of his groans from next to your ear told you that you only had around thirty seconds before your theory was tested and your mystery man woke up.
“Mornin’” came the voice from behind you, and if it were possible your heart started beating even faster. It was him.
“Reid! Good morning!” You tried to keep the curiosity and anxiety out of your voice, as you finally turned over to look at him. His sleepy face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. His hair fell in small waves into his face and you had to stop yourself from brushing it behind his ear for him. There was a five o’clock shadow forming on his face that you’d never seen before and the scruff really suited him. His most distracting feature, however, was his lack of shirt. And the many small love bites that were now forming on his neck.
“How’s your head this morning? I was going to try to get you to take something for it last night, but you wouldn’t let me.”
“Oh my head? It’s fine, totally fine. Nothing to worry about there. Totally not pounding.” You groan and he cracks a smile at your attempt to downplay your self-injury. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer somehow, and you almost panic, ready to place your hands on his chest and push him away, but you’re not quite ready to admit that you don’t remember exactly what you did or didn’t do the night before so instead you push your hands up to his neck and play with his hair.
“Are you going to ask or do you remember?” He smirks down at you, rubbing small comforting circles into your back. You let out a small sigh, a goodbye to those few blissfully peaceful moments.
“Ask what? Ask if I remember climbing into bed with my coworker and leaving some quite pretty marks on his neck or ask if I actually got further than my fantasies have in the last month?” You trace your hand down his neck, stopping at a rather red patch where you can still see some trace of your lipstick from the night before.
“Ask whether or not I’m going to be fair and tell you what actually happened, or keep you in the dark and let your imagination keep running wild.” He lifts his body up, and rests on his side, his arm propping his head up.
You make a sound of protest and attempt to follow his movement but his free hand holds your hips down with a soft pressure, holding you there less with strength and more with the weight of your own curiosity at whatever it is his body is suggesting.
“You begged me last night you know,” he starts, leaning down and whispering it directly into your ear. “To stay. To fuck you like a desperate little whore.” Your legs pushed together now, a sorry attempt to curb the growing need pooling between them, but he didn’t let up.
“You pushed me down on the bed when I didn’t do what you wanted, like a little brat. So drunk out of your mind that I couldn’t touch you, but begging for it like you would die if I didn’t hold you down and let you scream my name.” The hand on your hip moved up and under your pajama shirt, a rather flimsy thing that did nothing to stop his oncoming conquest of your body.
“You made me promise something, you know?” He says just as his hand reaches one of your nipples. He pinches it, hard, as you throw open your mouth in a near silent gasp. Your hips buck involuntarily, and suddenly one of his legs is between yours, pinning you down again so you can’t move as he keeps his attention on your chest.
“Made me promise I would stay and not let you forget. Promise that, when you woke up in the morning, I’d fill you in on everything you did, everything you asked for.” He keeps his voice as low as a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck, the contact sending a shiver down your spine, arching your back and pushing your breasts further into his hand.
“S-Spencer-” you beg with just that one word for more. But he stills his hand and moves it out from under your top.
“But if you remember, then we’re finished here right. I can go?” He looks down at you, pouting now and you hesitate for a second before answering him.
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything, so please…” you don’t quite know what you’re begging for at that point, but if you’d filled him in on any of the jucier details of your fantasies as of late, then you were in for a very fun morning.
He shifted his weight again, this time pushing your hips together, and holding his chest up with his arms stacked on either side of your head, you looked up at him again as one of his hands came down and encouraged your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing him to push even more of his weight down into you.
His head moved back to your ear as he began rocking his hips tantalisingly slowly into yours, dry humping into you.
“At first, you didn’t even know it was me. Just fell back into whatever body you thought would pay you the most attention. Rocked yourself back into me on the dancefloor, right where anyone else could see what a little whore you were being.” Despite the layers of clothing that separated you and the torturious pace, you felt your arousal growing by the second as you listened to him recounting the events of the prior night.
“And even when you realised it was me you didn’t fucking stop. Kept teasing me and playing with me in public, in front of our friends.” He growled a little bit then, obviously still angry about your actions the night before. You were bucking your hips up to match his movements now, teetering close to the edge of an orgasm. He hadn’t even really touched you yet, and you were like putty in his hand, ready to be molded into whatever shape he wanted you in.
“I drove you home, kept my hands off you, I was perfectly ready to let you forget the entire thing, but you couldn’t keep your mouth shut could you.” His hand was on your ass now, encouraging you to keep up your pace and deepening the contact between the two of you. You could feel his entire length pressed into you, and you wanted it inside you.
“Told me you wanted me to slam you against a wall and finger-fuck you, wanted to be my cheap little whore, wanted me to use you,” he groaned into your ear and bit down on your neck a second later, and you moaned, the pain and pleasure mixing together deliciously.
And then he stopped, pulled away and rolled off of you, and you cried out at the loss of contact when you were so close to your release.
“What is it, baby? You want more?” He smirked from his new position, sat up on the opposite side of the bed, just far enough out of reach that you had to crawl over to him.
And so you did. So desperate for the man, you climbed into his lap, and begged him for any reciprocation with your moans as you began grinding down on his leg again.
“Does my little slut want to cum?” He asked, his hands placed firmly and flat on the bed sheets either side of him, leaning back softly to watch your attempts to entice him into touching you again.
“Get off and strip down to your panties,” he demanded, and you happily complied, not caring where the offending pieces of clothing landed before jumping back into his lap. Apart from his lack of shirt, he was still in all of his clothing from the night before, a pair of loose sweatpants and boxers, and you relished the feeling of the fabric against your legs as you wrapped your legs back around him.
“I want you to use my leg to get yourself off baby, do you think you can do that?” He asked you, and you immediately nodded your head, desperate to start, but his hands on your hips stopped you.
“Use your words baby, answer me nicely.”
“Yes, fuck, yes I want to do that, please,” you whimper and he loosens his grip a little bit.
“Yes, daddy,” he demands and your eyes shoot up to his. Seeing that he is completely serious you feel yourself only growing more aroused as you stutter out another reply.
“Yes, please daddy.” He smiles at you again now and lets go of you completely, resting his hands on the bed again. Your hands come up to his shoulders and you begin your movements. You push your chest directly against his, desperate for some of your bare skin to be met with his, your aching nipples rubbing up against the plains of his chest in a near perfect way. You grind down into his thigh like its a lifeline, your every attempt to set an even tempo foiled by your absolute desperation to reach your climax.
He keeps talking to you throughout, mixing the sweetest of affirmations with the most disgusting insults, both driving you more and more crazy as the minutes tick by.
“Look at this disgusting little puddle my little girl has left on my pants. You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you my sweet little whore?” You moan out a reply, but he wants your words again. Delivering a painful slap to your ass he asks again, and this time you eke out a reply.
“Yes, daddy, I’m a nasty little whore, I want you so badly, daddy.” You whimper, the words and the shock of the slap bringing you ever-closer to your first release. Your arms are wrapped around his back now, scratching and marking him as if to claim territory, each one of his sharp-intakes at the pain driving you closer and closer until you finally feel yourself fall off the edge.
“So good for me baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple as you collapse into his arms, breathless from all of your hard work.
“I didn’t even have to touch you, and look at you. Looking like a fucked out whore, just for me baby girl," he whispered into your ear as he lifted you up, gently laying you back down on the bed.
“You think you can still do some more, baby?” He asked, and you nodded. This time it was enough for him, because he instantly shed the rest of his clothes and moved between your legs.
“You look so beautiful like this, baby. Gonna take care of you okay, just relax,” he kissed the words into your neck and started trailing kisses the entire way down your bosy. He paused briefly to show your breasts some attention, swirling his tongue around one nipple while he teased, pinched and pulled the other one, eventually switching to give them equal love.
But he didn’t stop at your breasts, pressing kisses down the length of your stomach before reaching your panties again. He looked up at you from his position before pulling them down your leg, making sure that your entire attention was devoted to him. He didn’t have to try hard, as your thoughts had been filled with him ever since he’d woken that morning, and you found you were quite content for it to stay that way forever.
He lifted your hips and slipped the offending piece of fabric down your legs. You shivered at the loss of contact at first, the sodden lace having been stuck to you after your desperate movements earlier. You were bare for all of five seconds before he dove into you, nudging your clit with his nose while he pressed kitten licks against your slit. You moaned out, not caring about controlling your volume, and didn’t stop as he continued licking and kissing like he was a man starved.
His tongue eventually made its way up to your clit and that’s when you lost it, bucking your hips wildly up into his mouth in a desperate attempt to use his face to get yourself off, but one of his large hands pinned you down again. He didn’t let up, rolling your clit around his tongue, bringing his other hand up to press a finger into you, beginning to pump in and out.
You didn’t even feel the build up this time, just closed your eyes as your hips jerked up once, twice into his face, not even a breath escaping your lips for what felt like an eternity as he let you ride through your second orgasm. He didn’t stop, but he removed his mouth from your centre, his fingers still pumping into you as you began twitching underneath him.
“Good girl, so fucking good for me. You’ve got one more left, right baby? One more left to give me, hmm?” He asked, but you couldn’t answer anymore, just nodding your head as best you could and bucking into his hands like a woman gone mad.
“Perfect baby, open your legs wide for me, okay?” His voice was gentle now as he gave his cock a few pumps, removing his fingers and flipping you onto your knees, putting you in the perfect position for him.
“You have to tell me if you want me to stop, okay princess? Tell me if it’s too much and we can end this right here,” he gently pulled the hair away from your face and pressed a final kiss to the back of your neck, finally lining his cock up with your glistening hole.
Then he’s finally pushed into you, and you could've sworn you saw stars. He fully sheathed himself inside of you and didn't move for a minute, choosing instead to press small kisses against your neck and back whilst you adjusted to his considerable length. He didn’t have to wait long though, as you could feel yourself practically dripping around him, making even more of a mess of your sheets.
He picks up a steady pace, pulling out halfway and then snapping his hips back into you with such force you’re grabbing your pillows with a vice grip. You tried to push your head back down into the pillow to soften your moans as well, but he grabbed you by your hair, wrapping it around his wrist, using his new leverage to pull you back onto his dick with each stroke.
“Wanna hear you baby girl, don’t fucking hold back,” he grunted into your ear, the new angle of his hips hitting that deep spot within you that had you flooding the sheets almost instantly, pushing out wave after wave of cum as you moan his name like an animal driven mad.
“That’s right baby girl, fucking cum around my cock, get it nice and wet,” he continues pounding into you, pulling out more and more of his length each time to hit deeper and deeper each time he returns to you. Your legs were practically shaking then at the overstimulation, your tongue hanging out of your head as you failed to form any coherent thought except “yes.”
His hips start faltering quickly and you knew he was close. A few more snaps of his hips and he pulled out of you completely with a small curse, shooting his load up your back as he released his hold on your hair gently. He collapsed on top of you, his arms around you as he kissed his way up your spine.
The two of you sat there for a few minutes, the only sound that of your ragged breaths as you both attempted to catch your breath. After a few minutes he pulled away, and you heard him retreat to the bathroom. He came back swiftly with a washcloth and cleaned the two of you up, wiping his cum from your back and chest and doing his best to clean up your cunt without overstimulating you even more.
“Baby, we have to go to the bathroom now, you need to pee,” he gently turns you over and you whimper at the movement. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and you push yourself up to a sitting position next to him, unhappy that he’s being so responsible now after possibly ruining you for other men forever.
“You’re going to have to carry me, you know,” you grumble, resting your head against his shoulder. “My legs are still shaking like I’ve just walked a thousand miles with no rest.”
He chuckles at that and wrapped your legs around him, picking you up swiftly. He didn’t move immediately, just content to have you in his arms for a few seconds. You looked down into his eyes and you felt it too. Like you’d never want to be anywhere else but right here, in his arms. You pressed a gentle, sweet kiss to his lips and you felt his smile as he returned it.
“Come on, Y/N, it’s not the first time I’ve had to force you into the bathroom and I doubt it will be the last,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. And in that moment you realise that he has you for life.
--X--
🏷️: @ihavenotitlesblog @gibbsgirl7 @beefyboisbeefybongos @bluecandycake @piecsesrising @dim-i-try @simp4f1 @marylovesevanpeters @daddy-dotcom @alondralolll @thearsonistrat @eddiemunsonssweetoltatties
(I know some of you didn't ask to be tagged but you asked for a pt. 2 so thought it couldn't hurt, lmk if you want to be untagged!)
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ew-selfish-art · 1 year
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Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 
Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 
Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 
It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.
Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 
It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 
He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 
“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 
“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.
“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 
“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.
“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 
“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 
“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 
“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 
“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 
Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.
“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 
And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 
The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!
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bloobydabloob · 1 month
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Your art is genuinely one of the most inspiring I’ve seen in ages. Immediately upon discovering your blog, I was mesmerized by your creativity bleeding into and staining each piece you’ve posted. Don’t know a lick of Homestuck, but it’s unnecessary to when your art tells me all I need to know without saying a single word. I can grasp why fans of the comic hold it so dear when you paint such a beautiful image of it. (figuratively, not referring to your actual paintings, LOL! Does this count as a pun?)
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Sorry, this is just an unrelated doodle because I don’t have any relevant images to add.
I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to tell me this, thank you. I know it is just like a little act of kindness to you but nice messages mean a lot to me and I wish I could properly project how glad I am to have kind people supporting my art in *any* amount. I’m someone who gets very easily stressed out running accounts so talking to people is what makes it worth the hassle for me. I’m glad you like my art and that it inspires you and anyone else reading this who may feel similarly, I hope I don’t quit art and that I keep improving.
I also do very much recommend giving Homestuck a read if you’ve got the time. The fanbase is unfortunately something I don’t have much of a positive view on but even if it is just some internet comic, reading it growing up is definitely something I wouldn’t take ever back. It has some of the best character / world building of anything I’ve read thus far and it has always just stuck with me. I’ve never had a homestuck friend that moved on from it, which is something I rarely find. I think it appeals to everyone in a different way because of the writing and how vast it is / how many bases it covers. I’m sure that if you ever read it you would find your own connections within the comic. I know though that my drawings are less connected with the atmosphere of the comic itself and infinitely more attuned to my own interpretations and feelings towards the characters, but I also think there is already enough more fitting homestuck art for me to just draw whatever.
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Anyways here is my cool new print I got for my wall from @/ReptileEnclosed’s InPrnt, and here are just some of the nice things people have said to me that stick in my mind. Every time someone says something I appreciate I screenshot it and add it to a folder called “Nice Words”.
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lightwing-s · 8 months
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭
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pairing: jason todd x fem! reader
summary: a helping hand turns an enemy into a friend for one single night of truce. one single night that ends up redefining their entire relationship, the start of where everything is about to change.
rating: 18+ (MDNI)
word count: 6,4k warnings: mentions of heavy drinking, sex, p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, language, size kink, breast play, male dominance, jason's sex stimulated superiority complex
a/n: the fact this was supposed to be way longer scared me of how many chapters i might need to end this series lol. and i tried making it possible to read without the context of the series for those who just want to read a nice smut lol. also, thank you for all the support thus far, it has been incredible seeing so many people invested in this story and wanting to see its development. thank you thank you thank you for supporting this silly writer's dream. ♡♡♡
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
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Thanks, man. Have a good night. Shutting the door closed behind him, Jason thanked the driver before he watched his Uber ride drive his car away, turning the corner and leaving the street he was left on. The night was cold and dark, the faint lighting of the streetlamp doing nothing to provide him a clear view of his ambiance, instead, all was gloom.
 Standing on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building, he let out a deep, long sigh. It was late, really late, past 1am the last time he checked, and the weight of the alcohol in his system begged him to find his way to bed. But the soft, barely audible, breaths of the lady behind him reminded Jason he still had a task ahead: getting you to his apartment.
As a strong wind blew past him, he zipped his jacket up, protecting himself from the unusually chilly night, for this time of the year at least, and turned on his heels to find you resting against the stony wall of the old structure, eyes narrowly managing to remain open. You felt the weather as much as he did, hugging yourself to acquire some type of warmth despite your inappropriate attire.
Carefully, he approached your sleepy frame and guided you inside, a hand placed on your back the entire walk up the stairs. Jason’s building was old, but well maintained.  Meaning, it looked decent for all the decades it’d been through, but didn’t have an elevator casting on whoever lived on the last floor (Jason) the curse to climb all the way up every single day.
Already struggling due to the alcohol and tiredness, halfway through your journey you let out a moan without realizing. Your pace grew slower, and you lacked the effort to simply lift your legs and place your foot on the next step.
“Come on, love. We’re getting closer.” Jason said, pausing right behind you. He had to hold his laugh as you turned back to face him, eyes watery and lips sticking out in a pout.
“Why didn’t we use the elevator? Do you hate me?” you cried.
“Not everyone has daddy’s money to afford an apartment with an elevator,” he joked, but your response caught him by surprise, as your face crunched into a sort of angry expression mixed with a tint of sadness.
“I’m not… I…” you tried to mumble out, but failed countless times. “My feet hurt!”
Sighing deeply once more, he pushed you up by your waist, hands placed safely around you but alway mindful of its position. As you reached the next floor, you thanked your slow mind tonight for not allowing a scream to leave your mouth when Jason grabbed your legs and lifted you up so he could carry you to his apartment.
You had to say, it should’ve surprised you that he carried you with what seemed like a total lack of effort on his part, like you weighed nothing. However, you knew him. You knew he spent countless hours training at the gym, to the point you often wondered if he didn’t live there as well. That he’d often pass you carrying up to eight different weight plates in one single trip to use in his next exercise.
It did surprise you he could carry you. It surprised you he actually did it.
On his arm, the sweet coconut smell reached your nose, and you had to hold yourself from feeling sick. The alcohol was doing its job on you, and gosh you hated it. Tiredness taking over, you rested your head on his shoulder and fought against yourself to keep your eyes open.
“How much do you lift?” you mumbled a question, poking the bicep within your reach. You felt his breath hit your skin as he let out a soft chuckle.
“A lot more than you weight.” he stated, and continued his climb silently until you two were inside his deliciously warm and scrupulously tidy apartment. “Come,” he called after you when your feet were back on the ground. You followed him through the darkened living room until he opened a door and turned the light on in his bedroom. “You can sleep here, I’ll take the sofa.”
Your polite and sober side wanted to complain, to offer to sleep on the sofa instead, but your drunk and seriously exhausted one just wanted to throw yourself on the bed. Accepting the drunk side’s victory, you sat down with a noise and laid on his bed, eyes closing soon after, but being forced to open as you felt the mattress sink right beside you.
Struggling to lift your head, you found Jason bent down to catch your feet, loosening the laces of your converse and helping you take them off. “Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as you sat up again and started to unhook your bra from beneath your shirt.
Jason got nervous, eyes quickly shifting from you to the floor, not knowing what to do. Pulling your bra off through one of your sleeves, he took it as his key to leave you alone before you could start stripping off your pants too. Standing up, he reached the bedroom door just as you were climbing under the duvet, head laying on the pillow with eyes already closed. 
He knew that, in your state, it wouldn’t be long before you were in deep slumber. So, turning off the lights, peeking at you one last time, he closed the door behind him. Careful to not make any noise. Careful not to wake you up. Unaware of the smile gracing his lips.
It’d been well over an hour since you had fallen asleep. The darkness still loomed outside, but the dim lighting of Jason’s side table lamp illuminated his living room, casting a shadow upon his body.
Jason couldn’t fall asleep, for some reason. He had tried lying down and forcing his eyes closed, had tried listening to whale sounds, rain sounds, brown, blue, black, white, purple noises. Nothing. Nothing seemed to put him to bed, not even his half drunk state.
So, feeling exhausted, he stood up from the sofa and went to the small kitchen to make himself some tea, hoping it would help him give in to sleep. He tried to be quiet, mindful of his guest still sleeping in his bed, filled his red mug with the tea and returned to the sofa, sitting beside his also sleeping kitten, whose snores were too loud for a beast of his size. 
The drink was warm, and the taste pleased him just enough. He immediately felt more relaxed, letting the warmth fill his entire body, as he laid back onto the sofa and he could really feel like he was starting to rest.
On the other hand, you woke up confused. It was dark, and the pillows were comfortable, but they didn’t smell like your soap, nor did you find your childhood plush toy just within reach on your bed. Suddenly sober, you almost jumped off the bed before the memories started flooding your mind.
Shit. You definitely weren’t home, and this home certainly wasn’t from someone you wished it was. Slowly, you remembered Jason helping you take your shoes off, remembered him helping you up the infinite stairs of his building. And gosh, you remembered his damned smirk while he flirted with you.
You were pissed. P-i-s-s-e-d. Pissed. Why did you do that, Yn? Why did you end up here? Where the fuck did Nessie go to and why didn’t you go home?
In the darkness, you felt your feet touch the cold wooden tiles and you had to bring them back up quickly, not expecting the chilly night weather, but soon remembering how cold you’d felt just before coming to his apartment. 
Your bare legs were feeling it too, and you struggled to find your pair of jeans. It wasn’t anywhere, goddamn it. There was no way you’d go out in only your shirt. You had to find something, and remembering you were in a 6 foot tall monster, you knew he ought to have something around. 
Blindly skirmishing through the room, you felt the soft cotton fabric of what seemed to be a hoodie and put it on. It fit largely on you, the hem falling on the middle of your thighs, and the strong smell of perfume lingering from it.
With light footsteps, you got to the door. Twisting the handle with care, you heard the cracking sound of the door as you opened it, exposing the dimly lit living room. Jason heard the same cracking sound you did, his head jolting back so fast he felt the muscles on his neck aching. 
There you were, hidden behind the door, a string of light illuminating your shape. You still looked sleepy, your cheeks puffed, and the minimum makeup you wore looked smashed on your face. But then, his eyes fell on your body, how your legs were bare and you somehow wore his favorite red hoodie.
Wow. Just, wow!
“Hey” he greeted, waving awkwardly in your direction. You only offered him a shy, toothless smile, eyes scanning the room and landing everywhere but him. “Did I wake you?” he asked, voice tinged by worry.
“No,” you shook your head, meeting his eyes for a brief while. His stare gave you goosebumps, and you returned your eyes to the floor, the tiling giving you more comfort. “I just… woke up.”
An awkward silence fell before you, neither brave enough to look at the other. The air was warm, you didn’t know if it was a sudden weather change or if it was the lingering tension between you two.
“I,” you started, and he immediately looked at you. “I think I’m gonna head home.” you announce, trying to return to the safety of his bedroom.
“No way,” he denied. “It’s almost 4am, Yn. There’s no way I’m letting you out this late. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
Sighing, you accepted defeat without even trying to counter argue, aware his decision was well intended, and you too didn’t feel like facing the gloomy and dangerous streets of Gotham at this hour of the night. So, you just nodded, looking back into the room without moving your feet.
“Can I give you something?” he then questioned. “I mean. Do you want anything? Food, water?” Like clockwork, your stomach roared, making your cheeks go red and a smirk to appear on Jason’s face. “I don’t have much in my pantry, but I can make you a sandwich.”
Standing up, he walked to the kitchen once again, mug in hand being left on the sink. He seemed to move around the small area seamlessly, his bigger size never slowing him down. He opened cabinets, taking out of it a couple of dishes and a bag with a long and crusty baguette. Slicing the bread in half and then open, he set it on the plates, spreading butter on top and fishing for the other ingredients from various parts of the kitchen.
“I’m not a chef, you know,” Jason told you while he fished for the cheese, the ham, the vegetables and something else from the fridge. In normal human arms, they’d probably have fallen due the lack of space, but they all seemed to fit in pretty well in his much larger ones. “But I do enjoy cooking sometimes.”
His whole energy levels seemed to rise, and a sparkle tingled in his eyes. He seems to really enjoy it, you thought, watching the scene unfold from the same spot under the doorframe you were not even two minutes before. He was swift, picking things up and down , left and right, with ease and started constructing a delicious looking late night meal.
With watchful steps, you walked closer, something in you wanting to watch him in action from up close. Too enticed by the way he moved, the way he meticulously cut the tomatoes, a green vegetable, that you didn’t recognize due to your total lack of cooking skills, and the garlic before shoving them on a blender. The noise that proceeded, a disturbance of the silence that reigned on the night, but when it ceased, the smell that spread across the room seemed all worth it.
Continuing his craft, he was swift, picking things up and down with ease, spreading butter on the bread, adding cheese, sliced turkey from the smell of it, and the tomatoes. He grilled it on a pan he had started to heat while he assembled your snacks, and shortly after, placed a plate with the sandwich in front of you on the kitchen island.
“I didn’t know if you liked pesto, so I left it here for you to dip in if you want.” he stated, placing a small bowl with the green sauce he’d blended together earlier.
“Wow,” was all you could manage to say, the sandwich’s look worthy of those pins you’d constantly save on Pintrest but never make it yourself. Picking it up with one hand, you wanted to try it first on its own, your stomach getting louder, apparently aware you were just about to fill it and getting anxious over the masterpiece crafted just before your eyes. “Hmmm,” you hummed loudly, closing your eyes and enjoying the taste, your mouth already watering for one more bite.
You heard Jason’s breathy laugh, and your attention was instantly brought back to him. Supported by his elbows on the marble island, he sat beside you, his side profile a beautiful view from where you stood. He had a smirk on his lips, not smug or annoying or flirtatious like he usually had, but a lighthearted and fun one. One that didn’t drive you insane.
Looking at him, though, side by side with you, after making you a sandwich at almost 4am in the morning, you felt a lump on your throat you could not explain or justify. It was something no one had ever done for you and for some reason you wanted to cry. But you wouldn’t, instead, opting to do the sanest thing anyone could do in your position.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, his eyes darting to yours and his eyebrows doing their annoying move and lifting up in question. “For everything. Tonight, especially, but at the hospital too. You were really kind and you didn’t have to do either of those things. So, thank you, really.”
A smile you could not decipher clouded his lips, and his eyes shone with a glint of mischievousness you could not mistake. “Say it again?” he joked, and you had to roll your eyes.
“Jerk.”
“Sounds more like you,” he sneered, finally taking a bite out of his sandwich. He dipped it in the sauce, taking another bite, and you took your time admiring his jaw clenching as he chewed. “But you don’t need to thank me. I hurt you that day and it was the polite thing to do. And I couldn’t just leave you drunk at the party, it didn’t seem right.”
“Why not?” you questioned. “There were many other drunk girls at the party.”
“Yeah, but none of them looked like they didn’t belong there,” he stated, soon regretting letting those words out of his lips. He knew it’d bring out more questions, and he didn’t want to spend his night explaining how you would linger in his head on a daily basis.
“Why not?” If Jason wasn’t so tired, he’d notice you’d felt insulted.
“I don’t mean today,” he said, playing with the sauce with his sandwich. “You were having fun today, but I’ve seen you before…”
“Why?” you insisted impatiently.
“Because people go to parties for either or two things: to have fun with their friends or to find a hookup,” he lifted two of his long fingers to you. “That day, you were clearly alone. You stood to the side all night, not talking to anyone, almost barking at whoever came closer. Option one impossible. And you also weren’t exposing too much skin to fit into the other.”
“I was having fun tonight!” you tried to argue.
“Yeah, but your friend had disappeared. And you were too drunk. I couldn’t leave you there, alone to the wolves,” he concluded, staring deep into your eyes. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did.”
He seemed honest. And nice. Actually nice, like, he looked like a decent person, not the one you villainized in your thoughts every day. He was nice, a sweetheart, and a great cook if his sandwich was any indication of what else he could do in a kitchen. It wasn’t supposed to, but it only made you madder at him. You wanted to punch his face while also giving him a kiss. Stop it, Yn, don’t go that far.
You were quiet, not knowing what else to say. Jason decided on not speaking too, buried in his own thoughts, afraid he’d let too much out. Finishing your food, you dipped the bread into the pesto when the intrusive thoughts came over, and for once, you let them win.
“No…” Jason gasped when he felt the cold sauce on his cheek. You let out a good chuckle, looking at the green stain on his face. Your masterpiece. But Jason was competitive, he wouldn’t let you win. So, he dipped his own bread in the sauce and tried to do the same as you, but you held his arms to stop him before he could stain yet another one of your shirts. His in this case.
It took all your strength to keep his arms away, your laughter, louder than it had been in a long while, making the job much more difficult. “Jason,” you screamed when he got too close for your liking, but you managed to hold his hand and, to his surprise, took one bite of his weapon.
You really couldn’t stop laughing. Tears formed in your eyes from it, and all Jason could do was shake his head and finish the last bite of his sandwich you’d left for him. He felt good seeing you smile again, laughing even, and he just confirmed it was now one of his favorite sounds. It wasn’t polished, it was loud, fun. Everything you usually weren’t, but proof you could be sometimes, if only you’d allow yourself to let loose.
He waited till you calmed down, taking deep breaths to steady it. Then, you stretched your arms to grab a towel opposite of you on the islands, cleaning your hands before looking back at him. “Here,” you called.
His heart stopped. Your hands going for his chin and pulling his face closer to yours, cleaning the pesto stain you’d left on his cheek. Jason had never seen you from this close, every detail exposed to him. The way you sucked in your cheeks in concentration, as you cleaned his face, your soft touch barely brushing his skin, aware not to give him any type of skin irritation.
From this close, he could get a better glimpse of your lips. How they were plumb from you biting on it, how reddish they were, how soft they looked. He watched them as the tip of your smile briefly lifted up. And then, watched your tongue leaving them wet.
You were aware of closeness too. But you had committed to cleaning the stain, you couldn’t show him any weakness now. Pulling away slowly, you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips, setting your stomach in a spiral. He bit his lips, lifting his eyes to look at yours through his lashes, and your heart nearly stopped. Your breath hitched, and you had to look away.
“Hmm,” you started, avoiding his gaze and himself entirely. “I think I’ll go back to bed, it’s late.”
Something inside Jason dropped, and he felt a weight in his chest. You stood up quickly, and walked back into the bedroom without looking back. Fuck, he wanted to scream, but he had to contain himself. So, he stood up, set the plates on the sink and made his way back to the sofa. The tightness in his jeans making it uncomfortable to walk.
Resting against the door as you closed it, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart raced, wanting to break free from your chest, and you felt the warmth rising from within you. Your legs trembled a little, and your mind flew to things you did not wish to think of right now.
You couldn’t give in. You couldn’t. Jason meant trouble, and trouble meant bad things. You couldn’t let yourself fall for it again. You couldn’t invite trouble in, even if it looked as pleasing as he did. He was nice to you tonight because he was polite, but you knew his type well and knew it never ended well. He was just like the others, he’s not perfect, stop it!
A knock on the door broke you from your thoughts, and as if caught doing something bad, you were quick to react to opening it.
“Can I just get some clothes?” Jason asked, heading poking inside. “I just don’t want to sleep in the same clothes from the party.”
Giving him space, you allowed him in. He gave you a weak smile as he pass you, going in the direction of his closet. He indeed was wearing the same outfit from earlier, jeans, and a white shirt you could notice had some green stains on it. Karma.
“I’ve noticed you found my hoodie,” he pointed out while fishing for his pajamas, making your cheeks burn red. You went to apologize, but he was quicker to continue. “You can keep it, if it makes you comfortable.”
He turned back to face you, and you offered him a smile in gratitude. Suddenly mindful of your exposed legs, you tried to hide it with your hands, but you noticed how it only got his attention in that direction. He was about to leave when something made him stop.
“I need a blanket,” he said, running back to the closet. “Just a minute.”Jason was tall, but he seemingly was part of the crew who would hide their blankets on the tallest shelves, so tall that even he couldn’t reach properly. He stretched his arms up, the heels of his feet not touching the floor, and his shirt lifted up just a little. A treat for a very tired Yn to enjoy.
From your position, you caught a sight of his stomach up to his belly button. The toned muscles on the base of his abs made a perfect V shape, pointing downwards to a place you avoided imagining. A few of his tattoos peeked in and out of view as he moved, decorating his skin in drawings you could hardly identify. The thin line of hair going down the cherry on top of this tempting monstrosity.
Through his white t-shirt, you spotted the silhouette of his  back muscles. Well defined, well designed, strong enough to carry two of you up the stairs, and wide enough making it the perfect canvas to be painted by your nails.
You knew your mind was traveling through a very dangerous territory. You knew where it was going. You knew the consequences, yet you wanted it. You wanted the danger, you wanted the consequence. Just this once. Just this once you wanted the bad, the naughty, the dangerous. You wanted Jason. You wanted him. You wanted him.
Fuck, you wanted to scream. Run at him, kiss him. Kiss up the hair line on his stomach, up his abs, his chest. Damn it!
You didn’t notice him moving, wishing you a good night, walking to the door. You didn’t notice any of it. Didn’t notice his intoxicating smell leaving the room, because you knew your mind could make it up pretty quickly. Filling your nose with his inexistent scent. His shadow looming around you, with you at all times.
“Yn,” he broke you from your thoughts. He was worried. You stood still before the bed, not moving since he walked past you, not even your eyes following him along, or moving somewhere else. He’d called you before, but you hadn’t noticed. “Are you alright?”
He’d walked back in, closer to you. Approaching you worriedly, your breathing heavy, eyes now lingering on him. He couldn’t decipher them. They were darker, darker than he’d ever seen them. They hid something, something he couldn’t figure out.
“Yeah,” you breathed out a reply. “I’m fine,” you confirmed, arm extending to touch his chest. Jason’s breath got caught on his throat, and when he looked back at you, he found your eyes, and finally could decipher them. “I’m really fine.”
Sliding your hands from his chest up to his neck, you brought him closer, slamming your lips against his. A shiver climbed up your spine as you felt his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, and yours soon fought with him for dominance.
You couldn’t explain it. It just fit. He kissed you hungrily, like he’d been wanting it for long, and you replied with the same ferociousness, wanting him closer, more and more. You fingers tugged at the little hairs at the nape of his neck, and he moaned inside your mouth, the vibration reverberating through your entire body.
His hands roamed your skin. Squeezing your ass, caressing your back from underneath his hoodie. The feeling of his hands around you waking the little hairs on your body wherever they touched, leaving behind a burning sensation, a need for more of his touch all over body.
Stumbling, you two took a few footsteps backwards, feeling the ends of the bed hit your calves. He carefully lowered you on top of it, not breaking your kiss until you were left out of breath. When you two finally broke apart, he took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head, exposing you to the tattoos you’d had a hard time identifying earlier.
An angel falling graced his left ribs, while something was written underneath his right boob. Overwall, you couldn’t count how many were there, you just knew they made him sexier and your cunt ache harder for him. Lifting yourself up a little, you pulled him back to you by the hem of his jeans, your mouths meeting soon after, afraid that if you had too much time to think about it, your mind would force you to stop whatever the hell this was.
On top of you, lips glued to yours, Jason started grinding his crotch against your clothed core, feeling his hardness through the harsh fabric of his jeans and only eliciting your arousal. Trapping your legs around his waist, you bent your back so you could reach him further, grinding yourself against him in a clothed love making session.
You wanted more. You need more. Desperately wanting him in. It was a wild, primal feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in ages. Or ever at all. You needed him, like you needed air. You needed his tongue all over you, not just on your lips or occasionally traveling to your neck.
His hands slid underneath your shirt, and he broke the kiss to ask you for permission to take it off. His eyes looked at you with a mix of lust and something else, something softer. With a nod, he swiftly had both your shirt and his hoodie thrown off somewhere in his bedroom. 
You didn’t want to waste more time, sliding your underwear off too as soon as your breasts were freed, finding yourself fully exposed to the guy that just a few hours ago you would rather find dead than in his bed. 
Seeing you rush your underwear off, Jason had to stop and admire. Admire your body and all your curves. Your bare chest, your hard nipples, a sight Jason wanted pictured in his mind forever.
He wanted to remember how your excitement dripped off your thighs, its smell reaching his nose, intoxicating him. Driving him crazier for you than he already was. He really wanted to rip his pants off and fuck you right then and there. Slam his dick into you until he had you screaming out his name for the whole neighborhood to hear. But he also wanted to devour you little by little, taste every corner of your skin.
Pulling you closer from under the knee, he spread you open and fell on top of you again, resuming the action on your lips before moving his kisses down your neck and to your chest. He made sure to leave marks wherever he’d go. He made sure to bite, to suck on your skin until little red and purple stains decorated you instead of your shirt.
His hand, once holding tightly at your waist, found its way down too. Sliding to your arousal, he felt his fingers drench wet as they reached your soaked pussy. Finding you like that, so wet from just his kisses and touches, boosted his ego, giving him extra confidence he could do to you whatever he wanted.
Pushing one finger into you, he felt your body jolt up. He laughed against your skin as his mouth finally found its way to your breasts. He fucked you with one finger while sucking harshly at your nipples. You moaned loud, already feeling a tightness forming on your belly, that sweet but painful sensation you hadn’t felt in a while.
When he pushed another finger inside of you, speeding up his movements in and out while his thumb managed to somehow rub at your clit till it ached, it didn’t take long for you to see black spots in your sight. It did take long for your back to arch up, a muffled scream leaving your lung.
Nibbling at your nipple still, Jason took your moans and screams as motivation. He laughed as you came as if you were just a prey he was playing with, mocking your petite, fragile frame underneath him. Slapping your cunt, he moved his mouth to quickly play with your neglected boob before his tongue drew a line from between your breasts to the entrance to your core.
You could already feel your breath leaving your lungs, your mind half numb from your orgasm and tiredness. His breath hit your folds, as he pecked his way down to your entrance, licking from your ass to your clit, as you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop your screams.
Like a thirsty dog, Jason licked you up and down between your lower lips. His whole mouth stuffed on your vagina, enjoying your sweet taste filling his taste buds. You squirmed from the sensasion, so much he had to pin you down with his strong arms. You tried to push his head away, tug on his hair, anything to make him stop, already aching down there. But it also felt good, and you could feel another orgasm growing inside you.
However, he removed his face from your cunt as soon as he felt you were about to come. He was enjoying torturing you, making you weak to his touch. He wasn’t going to give in much easier, but he also needed to feel you. Feel you around him, sucking him dry till he himself was left just a moaning mess.
Fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants, he managed them down his legs, pulling with them his boxers, letting his hard penis hit against his stomach. You let out a gasp when you saw his erection, already knowing it was going to hurt but be so worth it. He was thick, probably the size of your hands around it, and just long enough.
Jason looked around, trying to remember where he’d last put his condoms on, before your voice void his mind of any coherent thought.
“Fuck me, Jason,” you begged, hands reach to touch his dick. “Please, fuck me.”
“Fuuuck,” he let out a loud and prolonged groan, forgetting everything and placing himself at your entrance. He pushed the tip in, getting a painful moan out of you. You were tight, but he was going to make himself fit. 
Collecting your juices, he rubbed it along his shaft, pressing himself in ever so slowly. As he entered, you molded yourself perfectly around him, taking him in entirely eventually. He let you adjust, allowing you to get used to his size. Lowering down, he pulled you into another kiss. This time, deeper, slower, hotter.
He started with slow thrusts, moving out entirely before placing himself back in. You moaned and your body jumped every time he moved. His low groans on your ear making you wetter, and his speed started to pick up. 
The sound of skin hitting skin getting louder, filling the room along the strong smell of your sinful act. The bed creaked and hit against the wall along with Jason’s thrusts. He started to gain more and more speed, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder.
He modded as the action gave him more access to your cunt, speed going so fast your boobs bounced up and down vigorously. With the spare had the wasn’t holding your leg up, he reached for your clit and your moans only got louder, screaming Jason’s name like a fucking prayer. Begging for release.
He’d sobered up from the party a long time ago, but he was getting drunk on the sight of your glistening skin, coated in sweat, screaming his name as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Not rolling out of anger, or annoyance. But because he was making you feel so fucking good you couldn’t control yourself anymore.
Jason felt like a king. Total control over you as you felt your mind go numb, drunk on his cock, drunk on the sensation he was giving you. He moved his hips harshly, slamming against your wet core like a MMA fighter fights his opponent. He felt the growing knot on his abdomen, speeding his thumb’s movements, wanting you to cum along with him.
A few more thrusts had you screaming so loud Jason had to put his hands over your mouth to shut you up, afraid his neighbors wouldn’t enjoy your fucked up symphony. He felt your release hitting his cock and he too released inside of you, feeling your walls clenching around him, milking his ball dry of any cum he had to offer.
The room was now filled with groans and heavy breaths. The air was thick and warm, and the smell of sex sticking to every corner. He pulled out, watching you juices mixed up and dripping off your pussy. Sticking a finger inside, he took some of you mixed orgasm and put it on his tongue. He didn’t lick it, instead just placing it there before lowering himself to give you a kiss, making sure you two got to taste your second late night snack together.
When you pulled away, begging for air, he had his forehead rested on yours. His eyes were closed, and his hair stuck to your forehead from sweat. Something you’d seen many times at the gym, now got a completely new meaning to you. One you enjoyed a lot more, seeing and making it happen.
You too closed your eyes, tiredness weighing your lashes down, as you barely missed Jason’s body falling beside you. You also missed his arms wrapping around your waist, and his face snuggling into your neck. Soon falling into slumber, a delicious ache on your core, as the dream world quickly took over you.
It wasn’t until hours later that the bright sun beams hit your eyes, or the loud noises of Gotham’s traffic found your ears. Eyes taking too long to open, as you woke up more tired than usual. Your body ached in pain, every muscle seemingly sore, but you didn’t remember going to the gym yesterday.
You only remembered you had to work and ended up getting drunk at a party. You remembered getting mad at your parents and deciding you had to release all your anger doing something they’d despise. You remembered your gym enemy taking you home. To his or mine? You wondered, eyes finally opening to the unknown bedroom.
Fuck. Looking behind you, you found Jason’s body spread on the same bed you now laid, and you quickly became aware of your own lack of an outfit. No, no, no. You went too far. You were just supposed to get drunk at a party, not fuck a stranger, Yn. Not fuck fucking Jason!
Carefully removing the duvet off of you, you slipped out of bed and fished for your clothes around his bedroom. Your shirt was tangled on his hoodie you had worn last night, and your panties were thrown on the other side of it. Your bra rested on the bedside table on Jason’s side of the bed, while your jeans were perfectly folded on top of a chair.
You tried to be quiet, to put your clothes back on without making any noise. But your own constant shits and fucks didn’t help your case, and as you buttoned your jeans you heard shuffling on the bed. Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what was going on. “Yn? What are you…”
“THIS IS FUCKED UP!” you screamed, his eyes jolting open at your reaction. “We shouldn’t have done this, Jason.”
“Woah, I didn’t do it alone.” he replied, feeling annoyed at the tone you’d been treating this interaction with.
“We shouldn’t. We…” you wanted to cry, pissed off you’d let yourself sleep with him of all people. Taking your shoes, you rushed out of the room, wanting all of this to be just a silly little memory of a silly little moment when you had lost control.
Opening the door to the living room, you stepped on something that bit your leg in return, a loud hiss forcing your eyes to the black kitten clutched to your leg. Shaking the cat off of you, you proceeded with your run of shame.
“Yn!” Jason screamed after you, but your feet never ceased, and you ran down the stairs. Eyes only jumping up to find him as he stood by the door. The towel you’d cleaned his cheeks with hardly managing to hide his groin. The last sight you got of him haunting you for the days that followed. His sad eyes, frown and pressed closed lips a memory from his heartbreak.
.
.
tag list: @igotanidea ; @erochuu ; @jasontoddslover ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @starcrossedtrek ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @willieoo
if you want to be added to the tag list, leave a message down below!
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thecoffeelorian · 2 months
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The Little GoFundMe List Update, Part 1.
JULY 15, 2024...
Dearest Star Wars Mutuals...
Firstly, Hello and Thank You to everyone who has donated, liked, and reblogged my past list thus far...because I now have a new set of posts to pass along, and I hope you will continue to help.
Secondly, in order to keep the urgency of this situation fresh, I've decided to do the following:
Repost the same links as before with updated totals;
Add a few more that have just been revealed to me;
Bring the accounts close to reaching their respective goals to the top of the list (in part 1).
In this way, at least I hope, this will help the families at the top of the list reach their goals faster, as well as lead to the ones next in line becoming the focus until their goals are reached, and so forth.
The links are now as follows::
From @aymanayyad82, Fadi A. Ayyad: $24,767/$35,000, 70% complete.
From @anas-gaza-family, The Anas Family: $13,330/$20,000, 66.65% complete.
From @skatehani, Hani Al-Hajjar: €32,673/€50,000, 65% complete.
From @haneenatya34, Suheir Hojok: $38,804 AUD/$70,000 AUD, 55% complete.
From @karamrafeek, Karam Rafiq Al-Nabih: €9,852/€20,000, 49% complete.
From @amjad20011, Amjad Almoghrabi: €10,472/€25,000, 42% complete.
My tags are hereby No-Pressure for, though not totally limited to, the following people:
@libraryfordyslexics @leos-multifandom-corner @gun-roswell
Therefore, if you see this anywhere within the next hour...please donate, like, and/or reblog. Thank You So Much!!
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eddiewithcat · 5 months
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losing my mind a bit, and need to try and get my thoughts in order BUT!
there is just.. something to be said with this season, and how they constantly like to reaffirm for us buck’s place in christopher’s life.
literally starting off the season with eddie opening up to buck about chris and him dating multiple girls at once, asking buck to talk to him (instead of simply asking him for advice to handle the situation, or even asking his girlfriend who- is a girl and would probably be better in that department! but anyway!).
and then showing us buck’s jealousy of chris thinking tommy is “so cool” (we all know now where that stemmed from, but i am still convinced he was confusing a bunch of feelings at once- and even oliver has said buck had no idea what / who he was jealous about!), and when tommy goes over to talk to buck about the basketball court incident- tommy tells him just how much christopher “can’t shut up” about him. and not to forget buck’s face when he says that and how it lasted a few seconds longer than it probably should have
…. and now; whatever the fuck is going on with helen and ramon coming to visit. my money is on abuela getting / feeling sick after the wedding (hence why eddie is still in the same shirt he wore to the hospital wedding in that still of him and chris that we got- also looks like he possibly could’ve been crying)
i am not super sure what the heck is going on there but i have a silly theory that my friend and i kind of came up with! we do not have strong evidence supporting it btw- this simply just based on what we have seen thus far and how the season has been playing out!
but since eddie will most likely be busy being by his abuela’s side- he would want someone to watch after chris for him. our best guess? buck, of course! it would also explain why he seems to be filming the same time as everyone else involved- and plus it could be the perfect opportunity to bring the ‘will of it all’ into play.
i could see two things going on with this; helena says something in a spur of a moment out burst along the lines of like, “you cannot keep leaving your son with a stranger” and eddie can say something like “he’s not a stranger, he’s family” and that can somehow lead into the will reveal! (because i do see helena being the problem here- people have pointed out many times now that ramon is the only one it seems to be putting in any effort into having a relationship with his son, where as it’s crickets from helena! also she was the first one to be defensive about shannon but anyway!)
OR!
and just a heads up: this is not me bashing tommy at all, i actually do enjoy his character and love what he has done / is doing for buck! this is simply speculation and also just a bit of fun!! no harm in silly theorizing!
i could see tommy perhaps noticing how often buck is watching after chris, and maybe he just brings up something about like, oh hey i thought eddie’s parents were in town… are they not able to watch after him? (in a nice way!! idk how the hell to word things but i do not think he would be a dick about it 😭 like he would just genuinely be asking!) and then somehow that conversation leads to the will and how eddie trusts buck more than anyone etc …
needless to say i just think there is. Something. There. and i have sooooo much hope in the will being brought up. based on how many times they brought it up in interviews, and sort of alluded to in the show as well (“you don’t seem to have trouble committing to certain things” you all know where your mind went!)
anyway that is all. thanks for reading this mess if ya did <3
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obliqueblade · 1 month
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A Post from a Friend
Hello, everyone. I am not Obliqueblade, and for those who have been here before, I’m sure you know what that means. For those unaware, or those stumbling across this blog in the future, I will explain. 
The original owner of this account, my best friend, has died. 
I didn't even know that she had a Tumblr, nor that she had planned to leave it with me after everything. It breaks my heart a bit to see her updates and talk about her prognosis as she did. 
I’m sure I’ll have more to say, eventually, I do plan on doing as she asked, completing her work the way she wanted- but for now, I want to grieve my friend. Then, I want to talk about who she was, explain just how much this community meant to her, and generally just talk about one of the greatest people I’ve known. 
She did leave a message she wrote a month ago, about a week before she passed, and I would like to share it with you all now. 
Feel free to leave comments, I’ll be back to answer soon. 
Thank you. 
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I have been putting this off for quite some time, but I fear I have no more time I can delay. Despite everything, I’m still a procrastinator at heart. I have spent far too much time thinking of how I want to address those who have stumbled onto my account and on my writing, but I fear for all my writing I am not sure how to word what I feel. 
Rather than continuing to wait, I have decided to write what I have collected of my thoughts thus far. I deeply appreciate those who have left likes, comments, and reposts of my writing- even those outside of “Who are you, really?”. When I started this journey, I had not anticipated it taking as long as it has. I also did not foresee what would occur at that time. I had thought I would live to see the end of my fic, but that can no longer be the case.
But that is the way life works, I suppose. Most people are not dealt the hands they deserve, nor are they given nearly enough time. 
I have always wished to help people- I had hoped that I would be able to achieve that in my life, but I am not sure I can say I have. Regardless, I am grateful for those who were able to contribute to my happiness these past few years. 
Recently, I have to admit I took a step back from writing, as well as watching Hermitcraft. I fear my heart may not be able to take not knowing what I will be left never to know. Waiting on those cliffhangers of “what’s next”- when I do not know if I will wake up tomorrow. 
I am satisfied with what I have seen so far, and as of writing this, Joel has announced his own TCG common card. I have asked the friend I have left this account for to get one on my behalf to join the others I have. I would like them, as well as all the merch I have to be with me. It feels important that even though I will no longer be here, those stay with me. 
While I may not be watching Hermitcraft as I wait, I am pleased with the memories I carry—the joy they bring me. The edits, art, and stories this community has created supported and distracted me in some of my darkest moments, and I truly regret that I will not be able to finish this story, with my own words, the way I had intended. 
Finally, I want to say, thank you. Even if you are discovering all of this after my passing, I am grateful to all those who have stumbled into my little corner of the internet. Just because I am gone, the things I have gotten to create will forever remain as moments captured from a different time.
This was truly the happiest few years of my life and in the words of Technoblade himself
 “I hope you all go on to live long, prosperous, and happy lives because I love you guys”
~ObliqueBlade Out
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thatbloodymuggle · 22 days
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Mastermind Update
hello my beautiful followers! just wanted to post a quick update about mastermind.
the series is coming to a close (I plan on releasing 2-3 more chapters), and as such writer's block has been a b i t c h ! 😛 in all seriousness, I've grown so emotionally attached to this series that I want it to end on a perfect note which is why updates have been so slow.
in better news, chapter 7 is nearly done, and I plan on uploading at 5 pm CT tomorrow!
I want to extend a huge massive ginormous THANK YOU to everyone who has messaged, commented, and reblogged this series thus far. your support has been so amazing. as a simple girlie who puts more time into fictional men and writing than her own love life, your support is what keeps me going. I truly can't put into words how thankful I am for each and every one of you!!!!! rock on and I hope you stick around for the end of this saga❤️❤️
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divergent-paths · 4 days
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Cross-Posting to Comic Fury
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As the story steadily progresses, it's worried me that it's getting harder and harder for newer readers to see the story from the beginning, so I've made a Comic Fury site for Div.Paths and will drop pages there in batches of ten as Tumblr progresses forward.
Click Here for the Comic Fury site~!
Tumblr will remain the first to see all new posts, receive responses to asks, and see illustrations/memes, while the Comic Fury uploads will see any weird art errors or typos that made it past proof-reading all fixed up in the posts. OP rambles are below the cut if you feel inclined to read, but all of this won't affect anyone already caught up.
I appreciate everyone who has enjoyed the story thus far, thank you~!
So, if you're reading below the cut, thanks for the interest in my ramblings! I had been hoping to save this until I had a few more posts under my belt, but Tumblr has forced my hand with a cap on the amount of links in any given post, making my Master Post sorta break (did you know it's 100 links per post? Because I didn't and it took me a while a figure out why I couldn't update the master post due to the nondescript error message being no help whatsoever). As for why I picked Comic Fury- It's free, non-binding on schedules, and one of the few art sites left with terms I feel respect the craft and its crafters. I'm not concerned with getting famous for this or anything, I just want to draw and write stuff that people can enjoy and relate to, and Div.Paths is allowing me to do that, as are all of you who enjoy it and share your thoughts and likes saying as much.
I'll never tire of expressing my appreciation for all who read my work and get joy out of it. Thank you for your support!
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djuvlipen · 2 months
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07/04/2024, Chief Saidou Kabore ousts child marriage from his community
In Burkina Faso, in 6 years, child marriage rate fell from 51.3% to 38.2% among women married before the age of 18, and from 8.9% to 7.8% among women married before the age of 15.
“If we had three or four young women from the village in the civil service, our village would be more developed. Women would care about our well-being more than men. This is my vision of girls’ empowerment,” says Saidou Noom Kaboré, community leader in Bagma, some 20 kilometers south the Burkina Faso’s capital, Ouagadougou.
The 65-year-old man has always worked to ensure that girls from his village go as far as possible in school. For several years, he has been resolutely committed to end child marriage, a scourge that could prevent his community from thriving.
Chief Kaboré is on crusade against child marriage
Whenever he has the opportunity, the charismatic community leader brings men, women, boys and girls together under the palaver tree in the middle of the village to discuss girls’ education, which he easily contrasts with child marriage.
“My wish is that our girls succeed because the success of a girl, of a woman, benefits her entire community. That’s why nowadays no girl at school age stays at home. We support them as best we can after they enroll in school,” says Kaboré, standing in the middle of the circle.
At the audience in awe Chief Kaboré explains how to protect girls up to the age of 18 and even beyond, for them to have a happy marriage.
“A girl should not be given into marriage early, much less by force. Even if she is old enough to get married, she should not be given into marriage against her will. Girls are sometimes forced to marry old men. We must let the young girl choose her husband. Thus, her marriage will be filled with love and happiness,” he explains. 
In Burkina Faso, the efforts of the government, civil society, communities and community leaders like Kabore have yielded good results. From 2015 to 2021, the proportion of women aged 20 to 24 married before turning 18 fell from 51.3% to 38.2% and that of women aged 20 to 24 who married before the age of 15, fell from 8.9% to 7.8%.
Chief Kaboré works with the NGO Voix Des Femmes [in English, Women’s Voices], thanks to funds from the UNFPA-UNICEF Global Programme to End Child Marriage. The programme was launched in 2016 in 12 of the most high-prevalence or high-burden countries, including Burkina Faso. It promotes the rights of adolescent girls to avert marriage and pregnancy and enables them to achieve their aspirations through education and alternative pathways.
In Chief Kaboré’s village, everyone, girls and boys alike, understand the risks of child marriage and the consequences that result from it. Veronique Nikiema, a 14-year-old girl, is keen on her studies and believes that getting married before majority means jeopardizing your future.
“In my opinion, early marriage has many negative consequences. You can't do long studies. At this age, you are not able to carry a pregnancy, nor take good care of yourself, or a baby. You will no longer be able to obtain a degree that will allow you to have a good job,” she explains. 
Chief Kaboré’s success is recognized outside Burkina Faso
Saidou Noom Kaboré has saved many girls from child marriage, and his success is known beyond the borders of Burkina Faso. In 2019, Nafissa Ouedraogo fled neighboring Cote d’Ivoire to Bagma to escape child marriage, knowing that Chef Kaboré, who is also her uncle, would protect her.
“I was 14 when I was introduced to a 42-year-old man who already had two wives. I refused his advances. My parents therefore decided to forcefully marry me to this man they had chosen,” says Nafissa, now 19 years old.
When Nafissa's parents went to the village of Bagma to bring her back to Cote d’Ivoire, Kaboré made made them aware of the dangers of child marriage. Later, the man who tried to marry Nafissa was prosecuted for child enticement and sent to jail.
Kaboré's message is heard and assimilated by members of the community and relayed by the young people. For Thomas Kaboré, a young man of 30, thanks to awareness raising, no one will agree to give their daughter into early or forced marriage.
“Some of our aunts and older sisters fled forced marriage. They no longer speak with their families and have never come back to the village. Their children won’t know their maternal families,” he complains.
With UNICEF’s support, Nafissa Ouedraogo followed training sessions and strated her own business, a very popular one with young girls in the village.
“The NGO Voix Des Femmes helped me get started with saponification. I produced and sold liquid soap. I wasn't making huge profits. So, I gave it up and learned how to do henna tattooing,” she says.
Building on his succes, Saidou Kaboré will continue his fight against child marriage. He wants the girls of Bagma to complete their higher education, have university degrees and contribute to building the Burkina Faso of tomorrow.
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insurrection-if · 10 months
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Hiatus Ended
I am very sorry, truly. I cannot stress my apologies enough.
I'm back.
I am, honestly, somewhat scared to be returning after so much silence. Every day without a peep from me on this blog just seemed to compress this sense of guilt and unworthiness I felt towards the idea of returning at all.
My hiatus was not announced. It had not been planned. It was unfair of me to let it drag on so long without any notification that it was occurring. Everyone who has ever shown interest or kindness towards this story deserves far, far better than what I have provided.
I was not confident about this story, or my conveyance of these characters. I despised my writing. I toyed with some other projects behind the scenes. I experimented with Twine - and I have declared Twine to be my latest technological enemy (as I am horrible with it). It is very suitable to other stories I have in mind, but my effort with those stories and my taming of Twine are heavily scaled back for now.
My efforts at present have also largely been focused on my financial situation and future. Thankfully, my current circumstances have eased much of the financial stress I faced earlier this year. Though my current employment does not provide a very liberating schedule to work creatively, I do feel much more secure in my continued ability to write as a means of recreational enjoyment and fulfillment.
In my absence, it has come to my attention that this community has not given up on Insurrection.
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This is an unbelievable wonder worthy of a good cry.
I cannot emphasize enough how meaningful this is to me. I do not deserve all the support shown to this story thus far. The IF community is overflowing with passion, creativity, and talent that I could never hope to match. And so, to have this much gracious interest extended to this story, I am helplessly and forever thankful.
Your time, your interest, and your presence hold a value far greater than a number on a screen could ever tell.
But, goodness, that number is quite something to behold!
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Thank you, thank you, thank you, each and every one of you! I would like to celebrate such a momentous milestone in following but, alas, I am not the most creative of 'party planners' . . . nor am I even a decent one at that! (;´∀`)
If anyone has any ideas, suggestions, or wishes for something to mark this occasion, please let me know! Otherwise, I simply wish to extend my gratitude as sincerely and deeply as possible to everyone who has taken the time to read this, or just about anything on this blog. It is a privilege for me to be able to share my ideas and writing with so many in a way I never could, or can, in my life beyond the screen.
Thank you! For your patience, your grace, and your belief in this story! Thank you everyone!
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aldemuappreciationhub · 3 months
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Link to the Poll
We will be taking answers until the 1st of July!
Here is a poll to help me decide on some important things for our next event. Which is set to happen in August! Your feeback is HIGHLY appreciated, and valuable for us to keep improving on your experience.
If you have any questions or comments to make in regards to the next event, do so via our Inbox OR join our Discord server.
Thank you everyone who has been keeping up with us, supporting AND participating thus far.
Reblogs are appreciated
@stsevents
-- Mod Kiki ♈♉
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regencyofhell-if · 10 months
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So...I fucked up, but in I think a good way?
Let me explain.
Regency of Hell somehow got turned into a novel instead of an IF, so I've been making attempts to pace back, but rather than redo everything I've already done, I'm thinking of keeping the project a novel instead.
I am fully aware that this is going to disappoint a great deal of you, but I'm in talks with a publication company thanks to one of my friends who is a local legend in the poetry scene recommending my work to them. If I complete the final draft of the book by spring, I will finally have accomplished my lifelong dream of being a published author.
Obviously, I can't name the company I'm working with here, but I will give more information as things fall into place and everything is set into concrete. What I can tell you so far is this:
There will be three books total. That is not changing.
Book one currently stands at 278 pages, and that is before editing. Everything is still in that horrifying stage between rough draft and second draft where I just keep picking it apart like a worn old scab.
I'm still open to recreating this IF as a sort of "choose your own adventure" type of story, but for now, it's all going in a different direction.
Twine is still evil.
It took me a long while to admit to myself that writing interective fiction is not something I can personally do. I tip my proverbial hat to the amazing IF writers out there who can do it, but my pea-brain can't help but make an absolute mess of things when multiple choices are involved. So rather than see the project die, I'm going to just go in another direction and take a shot at accomplishing something I've wanted since I was a kid imagining my name on a book jacket in the library.
I almost didn't want to post this update because I knew it was going to upset a lot of you, but at the same time, I couldn't just leave the page in limbo. So I'm sorry if this isn't the news you wanted or expected. However, I'm still hoping to have your support when I get the publishing deal. It would mean the absolute world to me.
I'm going to end this note here and just say thank you to everyone who has supported RoH thus far. This isn't a closing chapter, it's just a new beginning with plenty more to come.
I love you all and hope you have an amazing holiday season.
Nik
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