#writing in this style is so freeing and so much fun

[maxwellatoms]

And a good executive dysfunction to you!

My stomach hurts.

I don't want to draw right now, but I really do want to draw in general. Just not now. Maybe... now?

No. Not yet.

There's a wasp's nest on the catio. I should be looking up how to remove it, but instead I'm in here writing this nonsense. I should be drawing.

It still smells like burning metal in here, so I probably am better off with the wasps. Did I mention that my bathroom caught fire this morning? Like an actual fire fire. I may have buried the lede on that one. I used to think it was "buried the lead", as though you'd skipped the information you meant to lead with. Fun that it still works.

Fire dept. said that there was a timer on the wall switch in the bathroom where we're having work done from the flood that happened after my birthday. When the timer tripped, a heating mesh coiled up by the wall caught fire. Thankfully, my fiancee' smelled the burning metal and we caught it early.

It's hard to make cartoons when your house keeps attacking you. Also, when you're not employed making cartoons. I'm trying some indie stuff, but again... can I get a break here? Let's just tone down the apocalypse. I'd like to get some stuff done. And my insurance runs out in two weeks.

But HA! Fincee'! So I still get insurance. Happy accidents. Suck it, world-- Oh hang on. Contractor is here...

I'm back! Where was I?

My fuchsia is on the rebound, I think. Passed it on the way back in. I don't want to call it a comeback, but it's flowering. I think maybe the pot retains too much water. We'll see how it goes. Thankfully it doesn't need much compost because I blew through the whole pile yesterday refiling the garden beds. I did the beds Hügelkultur style, but I used cacti in one of them, so the soil drop was insane after the first year. Free garden tip for ya' there.

Where was I?

To be fair, there's a lot of residual adrenaline going on this morning too.

Work.

Right...

Gotta get these drawings done. I said I'd do it by tomorrow. I only said it to myself, but I should maybe listen. Can I be trusted?

Just draw, dude.

It smells like cheese and apocalypse in here. Nothing I can do about the fried metal, but the cheese is from the toaster oven. I should go clean that now. Hang on. I'll be back.

[gojos-version]

Best friends?

Pairings- Y/N x Satoru Gojo

Summary- You and Satoru are best friends and got into a very interesting (and lewd) activity! Endings soft.

Warnings- Smut, mating press, pet names (sweetheart, baby, princess), kissing, tummy bulge, porn without plot (kinda)

Word count- 525

Proof read ✅

a/n- HIIIII I had alot of fun writing this, i was thinking of doing smut with plot but decided not to and yes i made this at 4am 🥺🥺anyways this is my 2nd fic! Feel free to drop any requests <33 my inbox is open :)

⋆ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ⊰⊱ ✩°｡⋆ 𖦹｡˚ ⋆

Friends weren't supposed to fuck each other. They weren't supposed to enjoy it this much. 

But it's hard not to enjoy it when Satoru's hips are ramming into yours with a lewd plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! Your eyes unfocused and bleary as he continued his merciless thrusts. "F-fuck! S-so good- shit!" Satoru whimpers into your neck, one hand holding your hip to stabilise it and the other on top of your tummy right where you can feel him deep inside of you. The tummy bulge making itself prominent with each thrust he slams into you. Your legs burn as you hold them to your chest to feel him oh so deep inside of you. You feel your eyes roll back into your head and your back arching, "S-satoru- s-slow down- a-ah!" You almost scream out. "S-shit she's so loud, listen to her" Satoru grunts, listening to your wet pussy making the most pornographic sounds you'd find in a fake video. But oh it was so real. Your slick covers both of your thighs and drips on the mattress under where you're both connected.

"C-cant! A-ah!" You moan out, your body feels like jelly all you can do is just sit there and take it. "N-no baby, please hold on- please- f-fuck!" Satoru cries out into your neck. Heat feels both of your bodies as you get closer and closer. Something snaps making Satorus thrusts somehow even faster. "I-im g-gonna! S-satoru-!" You scream out gripping his shoulders. "Yeahhhhh atta girl, come for me..let go you can do it- shit!" He hisses feeling himself on the brink. And oh it feels so good. So right but so wrong. But at this moment you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Your body feels like it's on fire, like electricity shooting throughout your body as pleasure overtakes all your senses. "I-i'm! O-oh! S-satoru-" you gasp out, clenching around him as you feel yourself give into the white pleasure taking over. Your eyes roll back and shut seeing white, as you start shaking. You don't even feel Satoru finish inside of you for the nth time tonight.

"S-shit baby are you okay?" Satoru whimpers out, holding you close to him. You open your eyes and blink foggily at him, he kisses your forehead chastely. You wince as he pulls out softly feeling his cum drip out of you. There was so much of it, it was almost like a pool. "Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart." You feel his body leaves yours but he's back before you know it, cleaning you off. "I'll run a bath for you, alright princess? Then we can rest." Satoru says, looking up at you for confirmation and you nodded your head softly. After he runs the bath, he picks you up bride style and slowly puts you in the bath, sitting behind you and massaging your hair. It feels too good. He was your best friend but right now it feels like you're more than that. You probably are after having sex, right? You feel your eyelids close as you hum softly. Maybe being more than best friends wouldn't be so bad.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊ੈ

Masterlist <3

[headfullof-ideas]

Some doodles of the riders and little insights to their relationships with one another or aspects of it

Kinda like, drawn headcanons. But it’s my story, so they’re half-canon half head canon? Idk, here you go

[boxwinebaddie]

an uncle nina check in <3

hi team! thanks for sticking around! i know my blog isn't always the most exciting and enriching place in the world in terms of content, but i am very /content/ to have you all here. <3333

i promise, oddly enough, i have A TON of inspiration and ideas for all my weird styles ( if you're curious about anything please lmk! i've been trying to flesh out my aus out lately ), i've just been in a major bummer depression era lately, so it's hard for me to get my asks done and i'm having a hard time committing to finishing my writing. :<

i think it's because of stress and my bipolar, but i am trying to get back on the horse! ( are we all laughing at the idea of me trying to get on a horse? i'd start crying help city girl fail moment for me ) yeehaw!

and while, unfortunately due to the instability ( fabulous legendary iconery ) of my pretty girl popstar personality, i do not know whether i will be answering almost no questions or one million, regardless of that, i just wanted to let you know, i'm still here, still kicking my feet, twirling my hair, cooking...i'm just really trying not to force myself to put out anything i don't like...and only do what makes me truly happy.

however, nothing, my dear sweet e-darlings...

makes me happier than coming home to all of you. <333

so thank you for flooding even the darkest corners of my life with bright light, supporting my phantom fics and being wonderful,

uncle nina xx

[arcaneyouth]

i dont know if its just my dash and just me but i swear im always getting a ton of posts about how like roleplay and making stories with your friends are the most fulfilling thing for your soul, and im really glad youre having fun. but god i really dont get it. if people touch my toys i want to kill them get your own toys???? and it always surprises me not everyone feels this way

[pizzaqueen]

All I want is Robin and Chrissy bonding over their shared love of old movies (and eventually discovering they both have a crush on Julie Christie, which leads to them discovering they have crushes on each other)

[darkkitty1208]

Words are the closest thing to a way I can make sense of my somewhat-of-a-self-identity-crisis-but-in-writing thing, and even then it can only express a mere fraction of whatever it is that I'm feeling. So bear with me as I try to verbalise this in an at least semi-coherent way.

I've been trying out a variety of writing styles and techniques lately. I've been discovering ways to do more of 'showing' and less of 'telling'.

I like the indirectness of it.

Actually, no -- that's not quite it. That's not it at all.

I think I like telling stories obliquely and only providing vague details not only because I'm a lazy arse who has no idea how to describe things in a direct and clear way but also because-- actually, I have no idea how to explain this in a way that isn't incomprehensible.

I can't quite explain it, but I think I like stories that can only be told in a vague way, like providing the puzzle pieces so that you get to piece things together the way you want it. The resulting picture would just be your own interpretation. I just like being subtle and merely imply the meaning of some things so anyone can interpret my stories their own way.

No, no. That doesn't make any sense either, does it?

And that's only one of the many things I'm still trying out and working on!

It's just. There's so much to try! I don't even know what I want. I've said this in my recent fic's A/N and I'll just say it again here: I'm experimenting with different things in writing the way a child would mix soap and shampoo in a bath. Which is a waste of time (and of shampoo and soap, which clearly does not apply in this scenario, but again, really cba to think of a better analogy here) but I can't help it because it's so fun.

Sometimes I think I don't even *have* a style. Sometimes I think I'll never have one. But I dunno.

Just ignore me as I try to mull this over. I'm just 'in my feels' and screaming this out into the abyss that's in the form of my silly little blog. Thank you for indulging me.

[sophieswundergarten]

Things I think about Jackson and Jillson

After they get away from Curtain, I definitely agree that they would live with SQ and Martina in Stonetown.

Jillson gets a job at a bookstore, and she learns that she just loves reading. There weren't a lot of books at the Institute, but SQ's apartment is right next to a bookstore that the Benedict humans frequent, so he's friends with the staff and vouches for Jillson.

Her favourite thing to read is poetry, and she spends all her breaks reading through whatever she can get her hands on. The owners are really nice, and let her borrow whatever books she wants since she's so incredibly careful with them. A couple of times she even tried writing her own poetry, but she keeps it a little secret journal and doesn't let anyone see it. (Except SQ one time and he said it was really good but she felt horribly self-conscious and they never spoke of it again)

Jackson starts working at a pet store, through a similar relationship SQ has with the owners. At first, he is extremely hesitant and only does menial work like restocking and sweeping. But one day one of the puppies escapes and Jackson happens to be nearby. It runs right at him, and even though it scares him a little he catches it, and when the person in charge gets over there, the puppy is totally calm.

They put him in for a trial period, and after a couple days he gets over his fear and does great. He's much happier working with the animals, and he gets to be one of the head dog trainers. All of the critters love him, and he gets a pet snake at some point, since they can't have dogs in the apartment building. (It's a little corn snake and he names him Jason and he loves him)

One day Mr. Benedict and some of the others come to the bookstore, and Jillson freaks out. She hasn't spoken to them since Curtain, and they'd begged SQ not to tell the Benedicts about them staying with him, so she isn't sure how to react. She isn't even paying attention initially, because she's reading, but when they all come up to the cash register she looks up and freezes. In the end, she just does her job without making eye contact or speaking if she can help it.

Mr. B and the kids try to make her comfortable, though Constance almost asks point-blank what she's doing there, but Reynie shushes her. Jillson comes home that day utterly mortified and locks herself in the bathroom to hyperventilate over the situation. Jackson eventually gets her to come out, and they talk through it.

Jillson feels like they probably hate her, and while she knows better now, neither of them were especially kind to the kids while they were at the Institute. Jackson also regrets his decisions, but right then he's more concerned about Jillson, who has decided she's going to quit her job and never leave the apartment again.

However, once Jackson's mostly got her calmed down, there's a knock at the door. The bookstore owners had been talking about how much help Jillson was, and how excited she got when they let her borrow books, so the kids wanted to bring some of their own for her to look at.

SQ lets them in, and of course J&J are terribly nervous, and Jackson tries to cover it by acting super polite and distracting them from Jillson, who has gotten very quiet, but Sticky and Constance go over and start talking to her about her favourite poets, and once SQ tells them that Jackson is working at the pet shop Reynie and Kate have a lot of questions for him about that.

So the two of them relax, and Mr. Benedict invites them over for dinner, and though they're reluctant, SQ and Martina do a lot of cajoling (Since they're way more comfortable with the Benedicts at this point), and they all go. At the end of the night, both them have apologised to each person at least twice, and they thank Mr. Benedict profusely for being so kind to them.

He, of course, is very gracious and tells them they're welcome any time.

A few days later, the two of them show up with (Slightly burnt) cookies and a full apology speech. It takes them a while to understand that they don't have to work for forgiveness, but Martina and SQ help, and they all end up happier for it

[gouinisme]

last 2 journals + next 1

[throughtheglasswalls]

What if I made Souji in Monster Hunter Rise tho?

What if?

[liltaz-asatreat]

the word "happy" for the wip ask game :O? and if you don't have that, then the word "brother" mayhaps ! -ise

You can find the ask game here! :D (Please send some in if you want!!)

Also from Julia Burnsides vs Canon Lore:

Julia furrows her eyebrows and crosses her arms across her chest. “Do you honestly believe he's going to be happy with us if you brought down the spell now? Enough to want to give us everything he has?”

[snowballseal]

Hi! I really adore your writing. You have really caught each guys essences.

If your requests are open, I was thinking of something like how each guy would carry you and in what type of scenario. I thought Zayne would do bridal style and Sylus over the shoulder, but if you see it differently, feel free to do it as you see fit 😊

How they would carry you (LaDS)

Note: This was such a cute request!! I had fun writing it, though I definitely rewrote Rafayel's like three times cause I couldn't make up my mind on the scenario. I went with a different idea for Zayne, but I think you'll like it ;)

I really hope you enjoy this! And I hope I wrote them all well. Thank you for the request.

Also, I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I apologize for any mistakes/inconsistencies.

---

Sylus *over the shoulder*

“My feet hurt,” you grumble.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such cheap shoes,” Sylus hums, voice bordering on between teasing and mocking.

You shoot the man a glare. He gives you a smug smile in return, arms crossing over his chest.

Of course he’s right. But you can’t admit that, not after you made such a fuss about ignoring his warning before the night began. You had been stubborn, maybe a little too stubborn. The restaurant you were going to was just so nice, how could you not wear heels? You wanted to look nice for your date, and they paired so well with your dark cocktail dress. Of course you’d forgotten about how much they hate your feet.

Every step feels like a bunch of nails digging into your feet. Why did you park so far away? Oh right, because you thought the night was so nice, you wanted to take a little walk before dinner…Not your best idea in retrospect.

Another step makes you wince.

Sylus suddenly stops. This forces you to pause as well, your arm curled around his elbow as you walk. You glance at him questioningly, trying to hide the pain, not wanting to bother him further by complaining. Or endure more of his teasing.

But his gaze burns over you intensely. You shift a little, heat climbing up your cheeks, but putting your weight on your other foot only makes that prickling pain shoot up your leg, and you can’t stop your lips from twisting into a light grimace.

For a brief moment, Sylus’ face softens. He lets out a sigh before removing his jacket. Your brow furrows as he slips it around your waist, the warmth of the fabric covering your bare legs.

“Sylus?”

“I’m not so cruel as to make a woman suffer, kitten,” he hums, securing the coat by tying the sleeves. He then leans up to your face, lips quirking up into a smirk. “Especially when she got all dolled up and pretty just for me.”

Before you can blush even darker, you’re suddenly being thrown over his broad shoulder. You let out an undignified squeak, instinctively squirming to try and get out of his grip. You kick your legs, hands scrambling against his back.

“Sylus!”

“Careful, kitten, otherwise I might drop you,” Sylus warns, voice dancing with amusement. His hand slips below the hem of his jacket to curl over the back of your thighs, locking them to his chest. You freeze, heart fluttering wildly. 

What a brute.

Though, there’s really nothing you can do to escape this man. Not that you really want to.

“Sylus, seriously, this isn’t funny,” you still whine, trying to keep face.

“Would you rather walk barefoot?”

Your nose scrunches at the thought. While you are in a nicer part of the city, it still sounds gross. You guess this is the lesser of two evils. Letting out a defeated sigh, you prop your elbows against his back to try to get comfortable. Also trying to ignore how defined his muscles feel against you.

Sylus hums approvingly, “There you go, kitten. Just relax.” 

His hand tenderly squeezes your thigh and you’re actually thankful he can’t see just how red your face is. Probably as red as the wine you had with dinner.

It’s definitely embarrassing. Especially when you pass by a few people, catching their odd stares. But it’s hard to care when Sylus starts massaging your legs, his touch overwhelmingly gentle in contrast to his previous actions. His thumb presses firm circles into your ankle, drawing a breathy sigh from you.

“Feel better, sweetie?” He murmurs, and you can feel his voice rumble through your body.

“Definitely helps,” you breathe, “Though you could have just carried me in a more comfortable way, Sy.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This isn’t fun for me,” you grumble petulantly.

Sylus shifts, suddenly putting you down. You blink in surprise when you find yourself sitting on the hood of a familiar car, your lover leaning over you. His fingers trace your leg, grazing up your arm, until he can cup your cheek, bringing your faces so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.

“And how can I make it up to you, my dear?” He purrs lowly, lips grazing yours teasingly.

“Well-” Letting out a shaky breath, you reach up and slip your arms around his neck. A blush still coats your cheeks, but you give him your best innocent look, pouting your lips as you mess with the silver strands at the nape of his neck. “I think a full massage at home might make up for the discomfort. The last one you gave me was pretty nice.”

Sylus quirks a brow in amusement, “Is that all?”

“Nope. I also want you to watch a sappy romcom with me. Then I’ll forgive your brutish ways.”

That breaks the intense air between you. Sylus chuckles, the sound deep and fond, making you smile. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I accept your terms, kitten.”

“Good. Now chop chop, mister! Let’s get home!”

---

Zayne *koala style*

“Darling.”

Your eyes flicker open, eyelids heavy. Letting out a sleepy hum, you drag your blurry gaze to meet a pair of warm, hazel eyes. Zayne kneels beside the car, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek to keep you from falling back asleep. You lean into his touch with a content sound, making him smile.

“We’ve arrived home,” he murmurs, voice quiet, “Would you like me to carry you inside?”

You nod, head still fuzzy with sleep. All you can really focus on is that you don’t want his touch to go away. It feels so nice.

“Alright. Can you wrap your arms around my neck for me, darling?”

You reach out blearily, your fingers blindly finding their way into the soft strands of hair at his nape. Zayne carefully turns you until your legs dangle out of the car, giving him a better angle to slip an arm under you. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, drawing you flush against his chest.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, letting out another happy hum as he readjusts you so you can tuck your face into his neck. One of his hands stays secured under you, the other sliding up to hold the back of your neck tenderly.

It’s almost impossible to not fall back asleep like this. Surrounded by his warmth, his fingers massaging your neck so lovingly, the gentle sway of his body as he walks. Your eyes flicker closed again as you nuzzle deeper into your lover.

You love when Zayne holds you like this. Not that bridal style isn’t nice, but this is just so much closer, so much easier for you to wrap yourself around him. Plus you like the feeling of his fingers gripping your thighs, reminding you of just how strong the doctor is. It just makes you feel…safe.

“Wish you’d carry me like this more,” you mumble thoughtlessly into his neck.

“Is that so?” Zayne hums, a small smile curling his lips.

“Mhm.” 

You press a sluggish kiss to his collarbone to show just how much you like it. Zayne’s steps falter imperceptibly. But you notice, a bubbly giggle escaping you.

“Don’t trip, Doctor Zayne,” you tease sleepily.

He pinches your thigh in warning. “Perhaps a certain hunter shouldn’t be so distracting.”

You squeak, pulling yourself further up by his shoulders. Zayne chuckles, palm smoothing over the spot, though he didn’t actually pinch you that hard. Still. You draw back a little to pout at him.

“So mean, Doctor Zayne. What if I bruise?”

“My apologies, darling,” he murmurs, not at all apologetic. You hold your pout, only weakening when he tilts his face up to brush your noses together. “I’ll be sure to treat it once we get inside. A kiss should do, hm?”

God, he’s so perfect. You’re not sure your heart can take it. The warmth behind his eyes, the small, rare show of affection. It leaves a lingering heat under your skin that turns your cheeks rosy pink, and you duck your face back into his shoulder to hide your blush.

“So, so mean,” you grumble.

A fond smile graces Zayne’s lips. If he’s being honest, he likes carrying you like this. He likes how you feel in his arms, your weight, your warmth, the rise and fall of your chest against his. It’s not often you let him take care of you without complaint, so he takes full advantage of when you do. It helps calm whatever deep-seated need he has to look after you.

The fact that you’re so easy to fluster is a mere bonus.

You settle back into a comfortable silence, barely paying attention as Zayne navigates through your apartment complex. You only notice when he shifts his arm further under you so he can fish his keys from his back pocket and unlock your shared apartment.

He doesn’t bother to turn on any lights as he carries you through your home, straight to your room. You grumble as he bends down to set you on the edge of the bed, your fingers tightening around his neck when he starts to draw back.

“Don’t go,” you plead softly.

“Wouldn’t you rather be in more comfortable clothes, sweetheart?”

“‘m already comfy,” you assure him, leaning against his chest, “Just take your pants off and cuddle with me.”

“What a bold patient I have,” he teases, though his voice dips into a low timber that makes you shiver.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, doctor,” you whisper, a little bashful, cheeks going warm again. “Just don’t want you to stop holding me.”

Zayne softens. His fingers trace along your heated cheek, drawing you back just enough so he can lean down and capture your lips in a lingering kiss. You press into him immediately, a delighted sigh passing your lips when he settles onto the bed beside you. When the kiss ends, you tuck yourself back into his side, content once again now that you get your way. A drawn-out yawn escapes you, and Zayne curls his arms around your waist, guiding you so your head can rest against his chest.

“Sleep now, I won’t go anywhere,” he promises softly into your hair.

“Mmm, love you, Zayne.”

“I love you too, my snowflake.

---

Rafayel *bridal style*

“Oh, “ you chirp, cool air washing over you as you step out of the venue, “it’s raining.”

The two of you were attending the opening night of Rafayel’s new exhibit. You’re surprised you didn’t even hear the rain, considering the streets look about flooded already. Puddles collect along the sidewalk, a small river running along the edge of the road. Paired with the rapidly setting sun, it leaves a chill in the air that makes you shiver slightly.

“I like it,” Rafayel hums and drapes an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You glance at him, biting back a smile when he playfully avoids your gaze, as if trying to keep your warm might hurt his “cool” factor. “The smell of the ocean is stronger when it rains, don’t you think? And the puddles look like tide pools.”

“They certainly do,” you giggle, “though neither of us are really prepared for the rain. Should we call a cab? I’d hate to ruin these shoes since you just got them for me.”

You look down at the kitten heels you’d worn for the event. They’re so cute, a soft baby blue color, decorated with little pearls. You remember pointing them out to Rafayel on one of your walks down the pier. They were just so pretty, and reminded you so much of him in a way, but the price was out of your range. Not that it deterred Rafayel, of course, who secretly went back the next day to get them for you.

A pair of shoes really shouldn’t mean that much to you, but every gift from Rafayel feels special. You can’t bear the thought of messing them up.

“Hmm, I think I have an easy solution.”

You let out a squeak when Rafayel suddenly ducks and sweeps you up into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life at the sudden loss of balance. The sound of Rafayel’s laughter rings in the air, light and full of mirth, as he dashes into the rain with you.

“Rafayel!” You squawk and break into your own fit of laughter despite the icy cold rain immediately drenching your clothes. “Rafayel! Put me down!!”

“I’m already carrying you, putting you down would just be more work,” he teases, that infuriatingly charming smile pulling at his lips. “Now you don’t have to worry about the puddles, at least.”

“But we’re still getting soaked!” You squeal, trying to hide away from the rain by tucking your face into his neck. “Why didn’t we just call a cab?”

“A little rain won’t hurt us, yeah?”

“Says the merman. It’s freezing.”

Rafayel chuckles, the sound close to your ear. Warmth blooms across your cheeks when he presses a kiss to your temple, the touch lingering and soft with adoration, making everything slow down for just a moment.

“Then hold me tight.” he whispers, voice dipping to a low rumble that has your heart racing, “Take my warmth. It’s yours, my beloved bride.”

Any remaining complaints get lost somewhere in your throat. The heat under your skin rivals the cold. A dark blush coats your cheeks, and you try to bury yourself against his chest. You can’t hide from him though, your neck just as rosy, and you can practically feel Rafayel beaming with pride.

Stupid fish.

But he is warm.

You let out a wavering sigh, pressing the cold tip of your nose into the warm crook of his neck. Rafayel shivers, but his hold around you only tightens, as if he wants to envelop you in the heat of his body. It’s almost like being held by one of those heat up stuffies. It’s so comfortable, you can’t help but melt into him, fondness for the merman curling deep inside your bones.

“Do you always run this warm?” You murmur and rest your cheek against his shoulder so you can look at his face.

“Not always,” he hums. A stray drop of rain drips down his jaw and you reach to brush it away. Rafayel’s voice shakes almost imperceptibly at the touch, the tips of his ears going red, “For the most part, Lumerians endure harsh, cold temperatures, so we actually run colder than you humans.”

“Then why are you so warm?” You ask curiously.

His blush only spreads, until his cheeks match yours. The artist glances away, almost looking embarrassed to admit, “My fire evol is useful for more than just fighting wanderers, you know.”

Ah. So he can warm himself up with his evol. And he’s doing it to keep you warm.

The revelation fills your chest with a giddy kind of love. Like, a fuzzy, dizzy kind of love. You bite back the urge to keep teasing him, to see just how red he can get. God, how can you love this man so much? Every new thing you learn about him, every surprise he somehow pulls out of his sleeve, leaves you slipping further into the ocean of affection you’re already drowning in. The rain is nothing in comparison.

“I guess you’re my knight in shining armor, then,” you sigh wistfully, “Against the wanderers and the cold weather.”

“That’s right.” Rafayel puffs out his chest a little, almost like a preening bird. A giggle escapes your lips, and he gives you one of those heart-stopping smiles. “You should really thank your knight in shining armor, cutie. Otherwise I might not feel so inclined to swoop in to save you next time.”

“Well, thank you, Rafayel.” In the blink of an eye, you reach up and draw his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a chaste, yet searing kiss. The artist jumps back, eyes wide as he stares down at your mischievous grin. “Even though we could have just taken a cab and avoided all of this.”

His shock quickly turns into a pout.

“You’re no fun, cutie.”

---

Xavier *piggyback style*

“Really, I’m fine, Xav-”

You wince as Xavier gently flexes your foot, hot pain prickling up your leg. The hunter gives you a rather disapproving look.

“You do not have to lie to me,” he sighs and lowers your foot back down, “I will not think less of you for being injured.”

Heat creeps up your neck, and you have to tear your eyes away from his soft, unassuming gaze. It really wasn’t that bad. While fighting a wanderer, you had dodged an attack too quickly, somehow, twisting your ankle in the process. You couldn’t just stop fighting though, so you had grit your teeth through the pain until you finished the wanderer off, and then collapsed on a nearby rock. That’s when Xavier had rushed over to you, asking what was wrong.

You attribute your embarrassment to the stubborn bit of pride you carry as a hunter, so used to taking care of yourself that you don’t often let others do it for you.

“I’m really okay, it’s probably just a sprain,” you grumble, “I’ll ice it when I get home.”

“And how exactly do you plan to get home?”

Your nose crinkles. Right. Glancing back at Xavier, you find him looking at you with a small, rather amused smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. The little punk. He really can be mischievous when he wants to, huh?

But you do not have an answer to his question. So you just shrug, letting out a heavy sigh. You’ll just have to rely on him this time it seems.

“Would you like me to carry you?”

Immediately, your blush spreads up your neck, painting your cheeks rosy and warm. Eyes wide, you look at him incredulously.

“Xavier, that’s- I don’t- What?”

“I can carry you.” The hunter tilts his head, much like an adorable puppy. Your heart flutters at the sight. How are you supposed to resist that?

“I mean,” you hesitate, scratching the back of your neck, “if you think that’s the best solution…”

“It’s the simplest one,” Xavier hums, quickly standing up, pulling you carefully to your feet as well.

He turns around, ducking a little so you can get on his back. You hesitate again, though.

“Are you sure?” You ask, voice wavering.

“Positive.” Xavier looks at you over his shoulder. That gentle smile curls his lips again. “Who wouldn’t want to carry a pretty girl on their back?”

God, you hate him sometimes. Shaking your head, you gingerly step closer. You curl your arms tentatively around his shoulders, careful to avoid his neck so you don’t choke him. Then you jump. Xavier catches you with ease, fingers slipping under your thighs to hold you as he stands up straight again. It only takes a moment for him to find his balance as you get comfortable, your chin tucked over his shoulder.

He hardly seems affected by your weight. Like he’s carrying a light backpack. It eases your consciousness a little.

“I always forget just how strong you are,” you mumble.

Xavier holds back a shiver at the way your breath warms his ear. His fingers tighten around your thighs though, thumbs massaging circles into your skin. You hum softly, facing tucking into the collar of his uniform. This is nicer than you thought it’d be.

“You could take a nap until we reach our destination if you’d like.”

“No,” you sigh, though you do feel suddenly exhausted, “That wouldn’t be fair. I want to keep you company.”

“Mm, okay. Then what should we talk about?” Xavier peeks at you, amusement curling in his chest at the thoughtful pout you give.

“How about…what we’ll get for dinner tonight? We did complete the mission, afterall, we deserve a treat.”

A low chuckle escapes the hunter. Tilting his head, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Whatever you’d like, my star,” he hums, fondness warming his usually calm voice, “Is there something you have in mind?”

“That new diner opened down the block from us, we could try that!” You suggest, excitement lighting up your features, like a kid in front of a christmas tree. You look at him, smile brighter than any star he could compare you to. “What do you think?”

How could he ever resist you?

“Mmm, sounds delicious.”

“Perfect! We’ll go there then!”

You spend the rest of the walk back to the transit station talking about what dishes you might order, what movie to watch as you eat. Anything and everything. Neither of you notice the odd looks you get, too comfortable to care.

You all but forget about the pain in your ankle. Why focus on that when you can focus on the absolutely charming man willing to carry you all this way?

---

Can you tell which characters I main based on this? Just curious.

[sdr2lovemail]

Hi there!

I finally got around to request something for Bill ^⁠_⁠^

Could I get some Bill Cipher x reader headcanons during weirdmageddon? How would it look like being by his side as his s/o? I love this yellow triangle so much-

Have a nice day / night! <3

Being Bill Cipher's partner during Weirdmageddon! (GN Reader)

Notes: I'm surprised in all my time of being in the gravity falls fandom I've never written anything for it. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships

It’s all reliant on if we’re talking about canon Bill or a more fanon version where he’s capable of love. So I’ll write both!

Canon Bill would keep you around more as a plaything than a partner. A trophy, if you will. He’s taken over the world, the Pines were out of his hair, and all he needed now was a prize! And that little prize would be you! 

He will poke, push, and prod every one of your buttons until you give him a reaction. Getting angry towards him won’t do anything for you. It’ll just bring him to provoke you more.

Bill would give his henchmaniacs free rein to torment you as long as no fatal harm comes to your body.

Any privacy you thought you had is nonexistent. There are eyes everywhere. Literally!

Now, there’s another side I could imagine. It's a side that’s nicer but still nowhere near friendly. If you were a possible disciple of his, wanting to help him start the end of the world, you’d be treated slightly better. 

You’d be more like a servant than a trophy. He would give you more freedom in a way. Like sending you to do tasks that he can’t be bothered to do.

“Hey, disciple. Go run to the never ending forest dimension and send Mother Nature a message. She still owes me something.” There wouldn’t even be time for you to respond before he whisks you away with a snap of his fingers.

Now, moving on to a more romantic version of Bill!

Having been betrothed to the strongest being in the universe, you’ll be absolutely spoiled. Anything across the multiverse is yours. Bill can make it happen!

While he doesn’t need to sleep, he’ll set up a room just for you in the Fearamid. Ever seen a triangle-shaped bed? Well, now you have! The room would be decorated in the gaudiest decorations a demon could think of. I hope you like the color gold, you’ll be seeing it in your nightmares. The room would be soundproof as well. The party isn’t stopping just because Bill’s human needs some rest.

Affection with Bill won’t be typical by human standards. Rather than hugs and gentle touches, he’s a lot more aggressive. Punches on the arm, slaps on the back, and heavy-handed head rubs are more his style. But maybe if you beg, he’ll let you kiss one of his surfaces.

Trips to another dimension are always a fun date idea! You’ll be introduced to species and lands beyond your mortal comprehension. See anything you like here, go ahead and take it back to the Fearamid. What you want is yours to take!

Bill likes to go all out and party. He’s throwing the biggest and most chaotic wedding you’ll ever attend. Any guest that doesn’t bring a nice enough gift is either getting thrown into the worst dimension possible or turned to stone.

Good luck taking that ring off your finger, you’re bound to him for all of eternity!

[drchucktingle]

Chuck, how do you deal with people who are rude about you and your work? I write queer romance and I want to put my writing out there for people to read, but I'm a very sensitive person and I know it will be hard not to take insults personally and let them affect me. I don't want to let that stop me from expressing myself and sharing my art, but I'm scared!

very good question buckaroo. i am a good example of this as pretty much EVERYONE was rude about my work for many years calling it 'so bad its good' (it is just good) and 'terrible photoshop' (i think it has a great and instantly recognizable style) and 'intentionally stupid premises' (i dont think there is anything stupid about sex being fun and whimsical and playful). even these days the reaction of the VAST majority of buckaroos who discover chuck have this reaction AT FIRST, and then learn to appreciate the tingleverse in a more sincere way over time.

all that is to say BEING DOUBTED HAS WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR ME. art that changes meaning over time can be very powerful, so if someones initial reaction to my trot is one thing and then it evolves into another thing, well that is just good art. while it can feel bad to get a bad review, i would say a bad review just means you have entered a realm of tension and change and discord and WE ARE TALKIN ABOUT ART BUD so that, in itself, is very exciting.

i think of what i do as 'punk writing', and a big part of that means pushing against preconceived sensibilities. not many other authors will proudly say 'there SHOULD be some spelling errors in my erotic shorts because i wrote it in a day and edited it once. that is the FEELING i want to create', but that is my way. by creating what is in my soul i KNOW i am going to bother some buckaroos and that is okay.

now i am NOT assuming you are also doing punk writing (that is okay of course we all have our own styles. what i am doing with tinglers is pretty rare), but it still stands to remember that there are 7.8 billion people on the planet of this dang timeline and some of them are bound to be bothered by your creations. that is not a problem, that is just part of baring your authentic self.

the other thing to remember is theres no REAL right or wrong in art. it can be analyzed in different ways and i tend to look at it in a way of comparing intention to result, but even THAT is not strictly correct. therefore any bad review of something you make is not actually BAD it is just someones information and feedback for you to take or leave. a one star review is just another opinion, it is no more right or wrong than your own opinion, and that is wonderful. it is freeing.

if i see a bad review of my own book, lets just say CAMP DAMASCUS for instance, i do not get upset because i know this: that reviewer is not wrong. camp damascus is five stars for me, but it is one star for someone else AND THAT IS OK. THAT IS THE WAY IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS GREAT ART. also MAYBE THEY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO. just because i wrote the book does not mean i am the authority on it, and the conversation and tension between those that enjoy something and those that despise it is a creative act. the audience engaging with your work is just your art emerging from its cocoon and saying 'here i am. lets see where i flutter off to now'

do not fear the river of this timeline sweeping away your creations and carrying them where it will. this is inevitable, but it is also beautiful and freeing. you cannot swim against it and that is okay bud, because YOU HAVE ALREADY WON. you have already created something and given a piece of yourself back to this timeline and that is a great honor and privilege. it is literally all there is

by creating ANYTHING you are proving love is real, and that is something to be proud of

[cinnudelx]

Okay imagine this catws Steve Rogers x hydra agent reader where he kept her as hostage to answer questions, and Steve being kinda dummy doesn’t know reader cutting her rope with a pocket knife as she know jumps on him sitting near his dick as it hardens and the rest is up to you

thank you for your request!! i hope you enjoy <33

Hostage 🎀

pairing: tws!steve rogers x hydra agent!reader

summary: steve needs to know what HYDRA is hiding. luckily you fell right into his lap (literally) and he kept you as hostage for an interrogation, determined to get answers but you had something else in mind.

warnings: smut smut smut!! mentions of reader being tied up, explicit language, clothed grinding, degrading names such as slut, dirty, but also some praise, spanking, tit!obsessed steve, steve talking you through it, riding, doggy style. MINORS DNI!

w.c: 1.8k

a.n: i had sm fun writing this. something about catws does things to meee

with a groan, your eyes slowly blinked open, taking in your surroundings. there you were, bound to a chair, arms tied behind you in a dimly lit room, steve rogers shield propped up against the wall in front of you. it was hard to make out exactly where you were but all you knew was that you were still on that damn ship, caught during one of your missions with HYDRA.

the door suddenly opened, revealing none other than steve himself, taking his helmet off. “good. you’re finally awake.” he grumbled, shutting the door and walking up to you.

steve stopped a couple steps in front of you after tossing his helmet to the floor, staring you down as he noticed so many thoughts running through your head that you’re not even phased by him.

“what were you and your team doing here?” steve asks firmly, titling your chair back to look into your eyes.

you clenched your jaw as your eyes glared into his, clearly displaying the fact you’re stubborn and will never release information just like that.

he smirked coldly, tilting your chair back even more. “you gotta start talking before i do something i’m not supposed to, agent. you know i can’t let you go til you say somethin’.”

you stared back at him, feeling your pocketknife strapped inside your sleeve. it was laughable, honestly, how easy this situation was to get out of. you subtly reached your hand into your sleeve. “cap, if you really think i’ve got loose lips, you’ve got another thing coming.” you grinned, challenging him, successfully catching your knife behind your back.

steve nodded, clenching his jaw. “okay.” he nodded again, reaching back and grabbing his shield. you couldn’t help but think how hot he looked frustrated. it was so wrong, but you wanted to see more.

he suddenly pressed the edge of his shield to the front of your neck, one hand on the shield and the other on the back of your chair as he intimidatingly searched your eyes, “start talking, agent. i haven’t got all day.”

little did he know, you were already cutting yourself free, so subtly he couldn’t see or hear a thing. “well, if you must know, we’re not really fond of you guys. you and your little group. what do you call yourselves again? the… um…” you pretended to think of the name, trying to waste as much seconds as possible.

steve pressed his shield harder against your neck, a vein popping out on his forearm. “agent, m’not fucking around. what are you and your team looking for.” he gritted out, his eyes darkening.

you winced slightly. yep, that definitely drew blood. “okay, okay. i’ll tell you. just—“

you let out a coughing breath as he pulled away his shield slightly. finally you were going to talk, he thought.

or were you.

the moment you freed yourself, you smirked, pushing away his shield forcefully as it fell to the floor. steve’s eyes widened as you lunged at him, straddling him on the floor as he fell. he struggled under your strong grasp as you held him down, tilting your head. “you know, you really need to work on interrogation. you didn’t even pat me down or anything while i was knocked out.” you smirked.

he clenched his jaw, realising his mistake. he was new to this interrogation thing. matter of fact, it was his first.

steve gripped your hips, trying to pull you away but you grabbed his wrists, pinning them to his sides and shifting your position on him swiftly, causing your core to brush off his clothed cock.

what came next made you and steve’s eyes widen. he let out a moan.

you looked down, a smirk growing back on your lips as you noticed his rock hard bulge. he struggled harder under your hold but you knew he wasn’t using his full strength. he could easily throw you across the room if he wanted to but something deep down wanted you to stay on top of him.

another fact was that you could feel your panties start to soak through. it was his fault. his stupid fucking moan and that goddamn hard on.

you didn’t know what to do but steve beat you to it, his hands reaching for your hips to pull you off but you grabbed his hands that were placed on your hips, grinding your core against his hard on once more to test the waters, your eyes searching his.

and there it was, another moan. god he was so sensitive.

“wh-what are you doing…?” he strained, his jaw clenched and his grip on your hips tightening.

“what are you doing?” you breathed out, the both of you secretly liking this.

he hissed, looking down at the place where your bodies met. “shit…” he breathed out, mostly to himself.

you gave him another roll of your hips, your lips parting slightly. “steve…” you gave him a look of uncertainty, moaning out his name quietly.

his mind was numb, couldn’t think of anything else but the fact your grinding against his clothed hard cock. “fuck- ngh-“ he growled, gripping your hips harder. “god… w-we shouldn’t do this.”

“yeah, i-i know..” you moaned softly, continuing your movements nonetheless.

“fuck it.” he grunted as he pushed you down to his thighs slightly before zipping his cock out of his suit, “you started this. now take off those fucking pants and ride me.”

your heart almost leapt out of your goddamn throat. holy fucking shit.

you couldn’t even think straight, your hands already fiddling with your pants as he started stroking his cock, watching you throw your pants to the floor. you almost let out a moan at the sight of him. he was propped up on one elbow, the other hand pumping his cock. as your pussy hovered over him, you pulled your panties to the side, your breathing becoming more laboured.

“open.” he reached up, the pads of his fingers against your plump lips. without thinking, you parted your lips, allowing his fingers to enter your mouth. you moaned as your tongue swirled around his digits, getting them nice and wet. “good girl.” he praised with a groan before taking his fingers out and stuffing them inside your pussy, causing you to double over him.

“s-steve-“

“shhhh… you wanted this. i don’t wanna hear it.” he hushed you, finger fucking you slowly before taking his fingers out and coating your pussy juices on his cock, stroking himself before gripping the base of his length. “cmon, ride my cock. show me how much you wanted this.”

you didn’t even need to be asked twice, already finding yourself sinking down on his cock. the both of you let out a soft gasp and moan at the sensation. he spilt you open with his thick girth, bottoming out immediately thanks to how soaked you are.

he propped himself up on both his elbows, watching you sit on his cock. “dirty fucking girl. look at you.” he growled as you started to ride him, soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips. you were so confident going into this but once you actually had this thing going, you couldn’t help but enjoy the way he was degrading you. “show me those tits, baby. take em out.”

he groaned as you pulled your shirt up, your bra-less tits spilling out as your shirt remained rolled up above your breasts. you started rocking your hips, picking up the pace.

“s-steve, mmmh, y-you- mmm…”

“what? drunk on my cock already? cmon. use your words like a big girl.” he grunted out, watching his cock disappear into your tight cunt.

fuck.

“y-your so big-“ you moaned out, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. “shit…”

he hummed darkly with a deep groan. “yeah, bet you fucking like that, don’t you? such a good, filthy girl.“

your pussy fluttered at his degradation, tightening around him as you quickened your pace, bouncing on his cock. “oh my god.” you moaned uncontrollably, throwing your head back, already feeling the pressure build up.

he sat up fully, taking one of your tits into his mouth as he grabbed your ass, giving it a firm spank.

“oh, fuck! steve!” you moaned out, bouncing on his cock faster.

he growled, guiding your hips up and down on his painfully hard cock. “so dirty. look at that. soaking my cock when i call you filthy things and slap that ass, huh? you like that?” he slapped your ass again before gripping it firmly with a moan as he felt himself approaching the edge.

“god, yes. oh fuck, p-please.” you whined out a moan, his lips enveloping your tit again, his hand on your other one kneading it and pinching your nipple.

“no respect for yourself, huh? you’re caught here with me and all you can think of is this cock. fucking slut.” he grunted, pulling you off his lap and positioning you on all fours.

he pushed your upper back down as you perked up your ass. gripping your ass firmly with one hand as the other slipped his cock back into your dripping pussy, he landed another smack against your ass.

“mmh, fuck! yes!” you groaned out, moaning uncontrollably as he slammed his hips into you at a bruising pace, making you see stars. “steve, don’t stop. i’m gonna fucking cum.” you panted out, arching your back.

“hold it.” he demanded, gripping your hips tighter as he slammed into you. the sound of your moans, his grunts, skin slapping against skin and squelches filling the room.

“i-i can’t. fuck, it’s too much.” you cried out, moaning almost pornographically before he snaked a hand around your thigh and pressed his fingers against your clit, rubbing it in circular motions.

“be good for me and hold it. i know you can. cmon.” he grunted, gritting his teeth as he pounded into you, nearing his release.

after a few more moments, he pulled away from your clit, gripping your ass tightly and landing a loud smack before starting to slam into you at an animalistic pace.

your eyes widened, your moans growing louder as your ass stung, your climax nearing soon.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” he gritted his teeth, his grip on your ass becoming painfully tight, “cum for me, baby. now.”

with that, your thighs immediately trembled as you came around him with a loud, shaky moan of his name. your pussy clenched and fluttered around him, causing him groan loudly, pulling out and pumping his cock ferociously over your ass, painting your skin with his thick ropes of seemingly endless cum.

“fuck…” he panted, taking off one of his gloves and using it to wipe his cum off your back. he tucked himself back into his pants, standing up with satisfied sigh as he zipped himself up.

you sat up against the wall, panting as you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed. he crouched down, tilting his head with a smirk, knowing that he’s finally got you all fucked-out and vulnerable.

“now. let’s try this again.” he leaned forward, his hand bunching your hair into his fist. “what is HYDRA doing here.”

[mitraoki]

genshin men brainrot!

note; just something to ease my way back into writing. i truly miss it a lot - considering how much i abandoned it during my recent semester(⊙_⊙;) i hope you guys enjoy it!

cw; a little suggestive, they're just smitten for u, violence but against other people!!

masterlist.

+ wriothesley has this thing where he likes being yanked by the tie. only from his beloved, of course. someone else comes into play and he’s choking them next. the way your fingers wrapped around the fabric, twisting them around your fist, bringing him in closer till your foreheads touch, and your breathing syncopates with his. whether it's for fun, or when the two of you are left alone in his office, that little smirk is painted across his face and the next thing you know, he's smothering you with kisses.

"someone's needy. not complaining, just anticipating is all."

+ on stressful days, alhaitham forgets reality. no, it's not the kind where he forgets to eat or drink, it's the kind where he becomes a full time machine. all he does is take orders, execute them perfectly, and tend to the various other tasks piling up on his desk. for someone always assuring you that his workload isn't as concerning as you thought it was; it was fearsome to see his questionable demeanor when he meets up with you in public. though, it all comes to end when the two of you are alone - did you flip a switch in him or something? - he's wrapping his arms around your figure from behind, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and whispering continuous apologies.

"...what can i do to make it up to you?" + neuvilette loves giving you gifts. it was that one time when you'd mentioned you loved the way he crafted it from scratch, bringing his ideas to life. in a way, it's another huge step for him to understand the little things of a human's life; and you were his number one supporter. there he sits during his free time, getting ideas from some of the melusines about what he should give you next. he takes notes of your likes and dislikes very quickly, but everything has to be perfect, just for you. anything to see that smile of yours bloom time and time again.

"if one's not enough, perhaps i can get you tons more! ....no such thing, this was a piece of cake."

+ kaveh loves styling your hair. he's definitely not the kind to judge the length of your hair - he can work with anything you prefer to have. from hair clips to peonies - his skillful fingers work through your locks, getting them done in a jiffy. he makes sure to not hurt you in the process, too. sometimes he even comes home with a new collection of hair clips, claiming that 'it would definitely look good in your hair!' every single time he finishes, he makes sure to get a good look at you, admiring every facial feature of yours. it ends up making you feel flustered, but he's just so in love with you. just what did he do to have such a lover like you...?

"as beautiful as always, my love."

+ not everyday is sunshine and rainbows for ayato. there were even times where your hand would reach out for nothing but a note on your shared bed, stating that he was off to settle yet another matter which frankly, did not require him at all. it was just regulations he had to follow. though you could see the slight changes in his handwriting, indicating that he wrote them all with a heavy heart. except for the 'i love you.' he wrote that with ease, a reassurance that he will return to your arms. when he does, he swings you around, pulling you in for the biggest embrace. he peppers kisses along the bridge of your nose, lingering around your lips, trailing them down to your chin, your neck. any place he could catch a glimpse of in the moment.

"i've never cursed at time as much as i did today. i hope it treats us well tonight."

all created content belongs to mitraoki. reposts/remakes are not allowed.