#tw: blacking out

[myeoomski]

ddvau grian i guess

i like messing w colors

alt/boring one under cut

[vodid]

no outlet

@blitzbee-week day 3: attack

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[moyazaika]

tbh jaded lawyer darling trying to save yan crime kingpin from getting his ass thrown into prison for life — yet again.

he’s lingering at the court’s steps, entertaining the news reporters with a dazzling smile, the entire world waiting with bated breath to see whether this is the day his billion dollar criminal empire comes crumbling down—

“the whole world knows you did it!”

“are you ashamed of yourself?”

“do you really think you’ll walk away a free man after today?”

that gets his attention.

“darling, don’t ‘ya worry about me,” he turns to the journalist, and tilts his head to the side, pulling out his lollipop from between those lips, curled in a sly grin. “i ain’t gotta worry ‘bout no fuckin’ laws when i got the world’s best damn lawyer on my side.”

a young man, then. thick glasses and braces on his teeth. far too thin and lanky, for all his balls of steel as he speaks up. “are you implying that your lawyer is an accessory to your crimes? a corrupt lawyer for a guilty man on his way to the gallows?”

he hears you approach before he can think to respond. the familiar, expensive echo of the dress shoes he’d bought you the first time you’d won a case, before you’re there where he thinks you belong; right by his side.

“alleged crimes,” you correct, and your kingpin turns to greet you with a million dollar smile. “now, my client will not be taking any more questions. kindly, fuck off.”

cameras flash instantly and countless more mics are shoved into his pretty face, still mesmerised by you, even when you grab him by the back of his collar (unironed, you notice with absolute dismay) and pull him inside, away from prying eyes.

“you’re being tried for sixteen drug and weapons counts,” you hiss, digging your newly manicured nails into his skin, as you pull the lollipop he’s sucking on right out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ and toss it to the side, seething. “when will you fucking get serious!”

he only dumbly stares back at you with a slack jaw, and stars in his eyes. his voice dips an octave lower, deep in his throat when he speaks. “oh, i could get very serious if you wanted to give me a kiss. or, y’know, maybe you could act as a replacement to that sweet lollipop of mine ‘ya just—oh, fuck!”

when you stride into the courtroom later, in your neat, pressed suit and slicked back hair, nobody dares ask why the infamous ‘alleged’ crime lord is following after you with a bruise blossoming on cheeks that flush a deep, deep scarlet.

-

the judge announces the jury's verdict, and you don’t even look up from the documents you’re perusing when he’s found ‘not guilty’ in a court of law, yet again—

“jesus fuckin’ christ, i knew you were gonna save me!” your kingpin jumps up from where he’s sitting besides you, pressing his face into your shoulder as he breathes you in with an elated, shuddering breath. “can’t even imagine which ditch i’d be rottin’ in without ‘ya, sweet pea.”

“excuse me, sir.” you pry his hands off you with a detached air of reservation you reserve for when the two of you are in public, but the way your knuckles are white when you gather the countless files and papers of yours scattered on your desk tell him everything he needs to know about how pissed you are. “hands off.”

he knows he’s in for it when the two of you get home, and yet, he looks forward to the sight.

it’s always more… exciting than it should be; when you’ve got him shoved right up against a well, going off about how ‘irresponsible’ and ‘immature’ he is, nails leaving his skin bleeding from how deep you sink them into his body, too caught up in your own irritation to notice or, honestly, care.

and maybe, he thinks, as he follows you out, tonight he’ll go pay a visit to someone after you’re done with him.

a man’s got needs, y’know?

he’s high off the rush of his latest win when he walks up the porch steps hours later. it's really only the latest achievement in a long line he attributes solely to you and your efforts.

he’ll make sure to repay you one day, with all you’ve done for him. he’ll take such good care of you; let you do whatever you wanted to him, as a token of his appreciation for ho hard you've worked to keep him on the streets he rules and out of the prisons he knows he belongs in.

in fact, his efforts start right here and right now; on the steps of a nice, suburban house, that belongs to the journalist with thick glasses and braces and a wiry frame. the white picket fence and 'keep off the grass' sign do little to deter the man outside. then again, the poor bastard could have had gates of iron, and he still would have found a way to creep inside.

he never knew being a journalist paid so well. shit, maybe he should’ve gone down this path instead of, y’know, running a criminal empire. this bastard's got balls of steel, for what he had the nerve to say about you. but it’s okay! hey! he’s here to take care of it for you!

you don’t ever need to find out what he’s done in your name. ♡

he’s very adamant about this, choosing to see the job to completion all alone, slinking away from your critical, watchful gaze—only once he’s made sure you’re knocked out by watching you sleep, crouched by your bedside, for a few hours—to make sure the problem’s all taken care of.

the kingpin rings the doorbell, and patiently waits for the door to open with his scarred hands held behind his back. there’s a glock in his left back pocket, and a silencer in the right. a swiss army knife curled in his fingers, because he’s always been creative.

yeah, can you believe that? his teachers used to tell him he would make a great artist one day. and he is, he likes to think. only that his canvases are a little less traditional, and not in the banksy way. you know how it is! life imitates art... or some hippie shit like that.

there's no rules in art for what you can paint with, right? or what surfaces you can carve up into pretty shapes...

and so, when the lock clicks open, and the handle turns, it’s exactly like he said; a man’s got needs!

so sue him! really, so what if his needs mean his heavy hands are clamping over the journalist’s mouth, twisted into a silent scream—

so what if he knocks the smaller man back, a fist flying to his face, those wide eyes and all, slack jaw stupidly hanging open in disbelief—

so what if he shoves him inside and kicks the door behind them shut?

your kingpin knows what comes with the life he chose, and sullying his name is one thing—but nobody gets to drag your name through the dirt and live.

he makes sure of that, personally.

-

“where did you go last night?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the weekly newspaper in your hands. there, on the front page, a greyscale photo of you and your headache of a client, descending the court’s steps after the verdict. “and why didn’t you ask for my permission before you left?”

the headline, in big, bold letters, splashed above the picture; INTERNATIONAL OUTRAGE AS INFAMOUS DRUG LORD EVADES LAW YET AGAIN. SHADY LAWYER TO BLAME?

“just takin’ out the trash, lovely. don’t you worry ‘yer pretty little mind about it.” as he says that, he abandons his own breakfast, suddenly snatching the paper out of your hands and ripping it up, but not before noting the name of the article’s author, tucking it away for later.

shreds of the weekly paper you hadn't even gotten to read yet fall to the floor, fluttering this way and that. you close your eyes and smile. “haha. funny. well, my ‘pretty little mind’ is telling me to throw the coffee in my hands all over you.”

“tryna mark me up?” he purrs, “if you really wanna wake me up, can i suggest somethin’ else ‘ya could throw at me? or on me, really. but—”

“i’m going to kill you in your sleep, one of these days.” you deadpan, turning back to your food. he’s like a little kid, and you’re not about to indulge him by giving him the attention he so desperately wants from you.

“'yer serious??" he grins, hands flying to his face in elation, a curious blush colouring his skin a deep pink. “you mean you actually wanna step into my bedroom— at night— of 'yer own damn will?“

you take another sip of your coffee, fingers trembling around the cup. don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what he wants don’t throw it at him it’s what—

“damn... guess i should start sleeping naked, then.”

[divineandmajesticinone]

4 MINUTES (2024) I 1.03

[hitwiththetmnt]

Sometimes there are stupid questions…

(audio from a random instagram reel w/ no info on original origins)

[grubbin22]

assorted emmet

[cyber333angel]

stepbro!rafe who had the hots for you the day the two of you were introduced. his soon-to-be stepmom and sweet, innocent stepsister moving into the house with his father and himself.

stepbro!rafe who told you a little flirting never hurt and that you weren’t even related so it’s fine. I mean.. you just met two months ago, he’s kind of right.

stepbro!rafe who finally made a move and kissed you on your parents wedding night. plotting on you all night and ending it with making you cum from his fingers in the photo booth.

stepbro!rafe who would jerk off to your panties whenever you went out with your girlfriends.

stepbro!rafe who would get angry at any guy who hit on you and could never explain why he was angry because it’s not like you were his girlfriend.

stepbro!rafe who would find anytime to be alone with you in the house, the bathroom, the closet or in your room with the door locked.

stepbro!rafe who would take your hands and place them on his bulge to show you what you do to him whenever you walk around the house in your little skirts and tight tops.

stepbro!rafe who squeezes your thigh under the dinner table, inching closer and closer to your cunt to tease you and watch you struggle to keep your composure.

stepbro!rafe who would touch you under the covers at family movie night and make you cum around his fingers with a quiet whimper.

stepbro!rafe who is always being risky and almost getting the two of you caught.

stepbro!rafe who would grab you by the throat and corner you into the wall whenever he was especially in a ticked off mood. “why don’t you help your big brother out hm? I had such a hard day today sweetheart..” he tells you, unbuckling his jeans.

stepbro!rafe who threatens to tell your parents what you have been doing if you don’t quit it with the attitude.

stepbro!rafe who covers your mouth with his large hands so you would stop squealing when he fucks you in his room.

stepbro!rafe who eats you out as a reward anytime you passed one of your huge stressful exams. “good job baby.. taste so fuckin good for me..”

stepbro!rafe who lets you cockwarm him while he plays games on his pc, holding your ass in place while you squirm around his length. your head nuzzling into his shoulder while he pretends to pay no attention to your whining, delivering a harsh slap you to your ass whenever you tried to bounce on him.

stepbro!rafe who would let you cry and moan as loud as you want when he plunges his cock into your wet cunt because your parents were away, not having to be discreet.

stepbro!rafe who loved the little kisses you snook on his cheek whenever your parents weren’t looking.

stepbro!rafe who is surprised when you come into his room late at night sniffing because you couldn’t cum by yourself, “need you rafey..”

stepbro!rafe who lets you ride your soaked folds on his thigh to help you sleep because of course as your big brother he needs to help you sleep.

stepbro!rafe who loved that you would paw at his cock all the time, begging to suck on him.

stepbro!rafe who doesn’t feel guilty about corrupting his new stepsister. <3

[mizartz]

a deep sea danny for mermay~

i got inspired by @meowmeowmeowmeow4x's lovely fic, Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun! I don't think my depiction of danny is completely accurate to the story, but i looooved the description of his transparent skin with visible bones and organs and wanted to give it a shot!

[starleska]

If you're still taking writing requests, could you do possessive Wally headcanons?

*cracks knuckles* oh anon, i most certainly can 😈 yandere!Wally fans (me too 😳), this one's for you! (this is less headcanons and more a oneshot... kinda wanna write the whole thing 🙈)

content warnings for possessive behaviour, manipulation, threats, arson, entrapment and kidnapping!

Possessive/Yandere!Wally Darling x Reader headcanons

👁 it all started so well. Wally was a Darling both in name and behaviour, and you fell hard and fast. such an attentive sweetheart, from the moment you moved into the neighbourhood it was as if he were always at your side. anywhere else, you may have been unnerved, but Wally's simple warmth and easy smile dispelled all of your doubts. while you tried to spread your time equally between your kind new neighbours, you somehow always found yourself in Wally's presence, talking to him for hours.

👁 in time, you found yourself becoming bolder. you start returning Wally's curious glances, and soon allow your eyes to linger a touch longer than they should. curiously (and with a little bit of a thrill), you notice that Wally seems incapable of breaking eye contact - no matter how long you stare, he'll always stare right back, unperturbed.

👁 one day, you find yourself closer to Wally than usual. you're half-pressed against one another on your sofa, Wally's cheek nestled in the crook of your shoulder. he's drawing something in his sketchbook: an indistinct, wobbly shape that you can't make heads or tails of. while Wally's right hand scribbles furiously with his pencil, the fingers of his unoccupied left hand spill at your side, reflexively clenching every now and again with the automatic motions of his drawing.

👁 the closeness imbues you with a newfound confidence. you take a breath, steady yourself...and reach across, brushing your fingers lightly across Wally's own. Wally's eyes snap towards you. for a moment, his pupils blow so wide you think they might just swallow you.

👁 the next day, your house catches fire. such an incident is unheard of in this neighbourhood, and all your neighbours are horrified for you. however, Wally is strangely calm. "I'm sorry you lost so much," he says, still smiling. "Would you like to live with me?"

👁 you're shaken - but accept Wally's offer. the shock of the fire takes a few days to wear off, but nothing could be more unsettling than living in close quarters with Wally Darling. existing within the living, breathing (creaking? squeaking) walls of his Home has an atypical effect on the puppet. Wally's voice is lower, and he moves with more purpose, as if he and Home are one and the same: symbiotic entities which exist in tandem with one another.

👁 to add to your creeping sense of dread, Wally flips the script on your personal space. now he is the one letting his fingers slip easily around your waist, and fixing you with uncomfortable, impossible-to-ignore stares. you try to laugh off his behaviour, questioning him openly if he enjoys having you as a guest so much. for once, Wally doesn't smile when he replies, "I love you living with me."

👁 it isn't until a week has passed that you learn all the doors are locked, and Wally never gave you a key. you try wrestling with the door handle, but it doesn't budge. then you try the windows, but they're sealed shut. 'I'm not trapped!' you think to yourself. 'Wally is just being a good neighbour - he wants to keep me safe.' but that still doesn't stop you from panicking, scouring the house for the heaviest thing you can find and trying to smash the window. the glass does not break. Home suddenly groans with the sound of a thousand old floorboards and overloaded pipes - a dreadful, ear-rending noise - causing the glass in the window to triple in height and thickness right before your eyes.

👁 terrified, you scramble backwards to run out of the kitchen - only to run smack into Wally. you collapse to the floor and gaze up at Wally, standing in the doorway with his hands tucked behind his back, that cat's smile of his holds some private amusement.

👁 "did you try to leave Home?" Wally asks. "Silly, silly." he takes a step towards you, and then another - slow and loping steps, his cute puppet form now moving in a way equal parts unnatural and sinister. he crouches next to you, those eyes now whirlpools of void which obscure all but the slight white rim of his scleras. "Try again," Wally whispers. "I'd like that very much."

[azuneekun]

@shmaboel did some vampire sebastian au doodles and i crumbled.

[bookwormcosplays]

Temptation Crowley Cosplay

Do not repost.

[asmodeauxx]

happy sex update yall

buy me a kofi?

[fosliie]

If you can cry real tears, then you’re gonna cry them all for me

+ a lil more bloody version under the cut

[my-midlife-crisis]

Trump and his police force during a BLM protest. He called you terrorists.

[rasangan-raspberry]

I'm just thinking about thriller bark and how the live action did the Mihawk duel

[mintypsii]

guys i love them i promise i just have the urge to put them through the grinder sometimes

umm on the bright side here's the alternate good ending version lol!!!!!