#//hey I hope this is alright!

[sailermoon]

The Handmaiden (2016) dir. Park Chan-wook / Revolutionary Girl Utena (1997) ep. 38 "End of the World"

Inspiration

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 170

Once again on my Ras & Danny being training rivals thanks to time travel bullshit. 

Look, Danny knows about the league of Assassins, but he almost dies of laughter when he realizes it’s the modern name of the league of Shadows. He’s an adult now, has been for a while, he’s allowed to find the situation he’s found himself in amusing. Hell, his sparring buddy who is somehow still alive is laughing too. 

And no one else knows what’s going on, okay? This random man walked into their secret base, completely ignored the many assassins trying to stop him, and called their illustrious leader a “Little Bitch Man” and they are now fighting?

The fighting is familiar, but why the fuck is Ras cackling and saying things like “Ayreh Feek” back. Practically saying “Fuck you,” while laughing and oh Pit, they’re Bantering this is terrifying, why has Ras not won yet, why has this man not died yet and- bodies aren’t supposed to bend like that what the fuck- 

Ras on the other hand, has One friend, who is immortal like him, actually remembers the shit he complains about, is also down for saving endangered animals, and actually knows how to spar! It’s not a proper spar unless someone loses at least a hand that has to be reattached! And honestly, people nowadays should know that the proper greeting to an old friend is to instantly try to kill the other. 

[galaxy-fleur]

⋆Midnight Rendezvous⋆

Pairing: Post-RE4R!Leon/gn!reader.

Summary: It's only natural to miss and long for the one you love, regardless of how accustomed you are to being apart from them. One lucky phone call can mean so much more when it's an unexpected surprise. For you and Leon alike. Or: Quick smutty drabble for @thatpyramidthing that turned into a one-shot, which then turned into a full-blown fic. Oops!

Word Count: 4k words.

Notes: Established relationship, phone sex, mutual masturbation, smut with feelings. Suspension of disbelief because people were not using their phones like this in 2000's lmao.

Credit: Divider by @/saradika-graphics

For you and Leon, spending extended periods of time apart was not an exception but rather a tried-and-true routine. That was just the nature of his job, and it couldn't be fought or challenged, only accepted and adapted to accordingly. The only thing you could do was cherish what time you did get to spend together.

This particular assignment of his was the same as any other. While you had no expectations for him to call, you can't help but beam once you see his name appear on your phone screen. Waisting no time at all, you quickly fall back into bed and answer the phone, feeling a little bit too excited for what is likely going to be a brief check-in given how busy he is normally when he's gone. Still, him calling at all is enough for your heart to race, and although it was late at night, you didn't mind at all.

For him, you'd jump up at 4 am if you had to.

"-Hey."

It's painfully obvious he has no idea what to say, probably just wanting to hear you speak more than anything else. The sound of his voice ringing in your ear makes you smile a little, even if his greeting was almost comically abrupt. Then again, you did not expect him to make a lovey-dovey speech for you or anything. That's just not the type of man Leon was, and you had no qualms with that. Moreover, he was probably very tired, anyway. You weren't about to complain over him not sounding joyful enough when he already made the effort to call you in the first place.

"Hi," you reply, shifting to lay flat on your back, your gaze staring up at the ceiling. Without his warm body here to cuddle up to, your bed felt a bit too large for your liking. However, expressing such a thought outloud was way too sappy-sounding, even for you. So, you kept the sentiment to yourself. "Did not expect you to call. Did you get a free moment?"

An ocean away, Leon slouches into his own hotel bed, cluttered with belongings haphazardly thrown abound with not much care for hospitality, his phone in his hand. What he does know, however is that he wanted, no, needed you to be over here, with him, right now. But, alas, that's a wish too ambitious to be granted. So he settles for the next best thing. And hearing your voice is definitely no reason to complain about.

He takes a deep breath, almost feeling as if his physical distance from you is the main cause of the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He missed your voice, touch, even your scent. It wasn't until he spoke to you again that he realized how much he had missed you.

"Yeah, I was surprised, too. The job's done, but they can't take me back to base yet because of the weather. So I'm just stuck here until further notice." He hesitates for a moment before adding, his voice taking on a more softer tone: "…Are you in the mood to keep me company?"

"-Is that even a question?" You laugh slightly, shaking your head, although he obviously couldn't see it from a phone call. Your reaction causes him to smile and chuckle to himself as well. God, he missed hearing you laugh. "How your mission went, by the way? Everything okay?"

Really, mission talk? His expectations were slightly higher than that.

"It was fine. Same bullshit. A bunch of bastards getting what they deserve." A part of him almost wants to act as though he's not truly alone in this dimly lit room, so he lets out another breath and turns over to lie on his stomach. It was hard to feel cozy when nothing about this place felt like home. Your voice helped with that, though. "I'm more interested in talking to you."

He hears you laugh under your breath again at his unenthusiastic answer. It wasn't necessary for him to say it outloud for you to understand that he was not interested in discussing work. Not that you blame him.

"The feeling's mutual, trust me," you murmur, a small smile audible in your voice. "Not to rush things before they happen, but I've been planning on making that braised steak for you when you get back. You know, the one you liked on Thanksgiving."

The notion of some homemade food instantly makes him feel a little more excited. The mere thought causes his tired eyes to light up a bit and his mouth to water. Guess men really don't need much to be happy, huh? What can he say, few things bring as much joy as a homemade meal from the one you love. Especially when he compares it to quick tasteless meals he got by with on the job.

"Oh really now?" His voice now has a somewhat lighter lilt to it, his words gradually regaining some of their emotion. "-Because that sounds like you're trying to butter me up for something."

He teases, but the excitement in his voice is very much genuine. You laugh, this time a muffled giggle, and the sound promts a small, warm smile to make its way onto his lips as he closes his eyes and concentrates solely on your voice through the speaker. This was nice.

"Is it so odd that I want to treat you to something?"

"-No, it's not odd. It's sweet. I appreciate it. I really do," he corrects softly, quietly expressing his appreciation. For a man who has endured far too much hardship for his age, it was refreshing to have someone care for him in such a simple yet meaningful way. After a brief peaceful pause, he speaks again in a somewhat quieter voice, nervously drumming his fingers on the bedsheets: "...Hey, can I ask... can I be a bit selfish with you for a second?"

The way he fidgets and murmurs out his request is almost bashful; it's a part of him that, all things considered, feels a little strange even to him. But he can't help it. You make him anxious, but not in the stuffy, claustrophobic way he's accustomed to. This type of anxiousness feels good. Exciting. A welcome contrast to the blood-curdling anxiety that was his unspoken partner on the job.

"How so?" You inquire, curiosity evident in your voice. You were oceans away - literally - so it's not like there was much for you two to do except talk. A part of him was honestly just going to ask you to stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep. It's a kind of a dumb request, which makes him embarrassed, but he doesn't really want to back down from it anyhow.

Leon bites his lip, slightly perplexed on how to go about it without just asking you upfront. He wasn't good at this whole 'subtlety' thing.

"I, uh… I just wanted to ask you to talk to me a little more. For a while, I mean." He pauses, lets out another sigh, and then shifts in his bed into a more comfortable position. To hell with this, he might as well just spill the beans to you now. "My mind's just filled with… crap. I’m tired. The 'I could sleep for a week straight' type of tired. But I know I’ll just end up tossing and turning for hours instead. I just... your voice would help."

You chuckle at that, the sound uplifting, as at least you're not bewildered by his request. He knows you'd gladly do a lot more than just talk for him if you were actually here. Which makes the whole separation even more difficult to deal with. He shifts onto his back, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling as he lays his head back against the pillow with a soft sigh.

"Well... I wish I could have you laying on top of me so I could play with your hair, but... I guess us just talking on the phone will have to do for now."

He feels a small, enjoyable shiver from the mental picture you conjured up for him. The sense of contentment he's always felt when you did that is something he knows by heart now. His brain always seemed to just shut itself down, nothing for him to focus on except for the sensation of your soothing touch in his hair. God knows he'd kill to have that right now.

"Yeah. You really know what to do to make me feel all better… I hate being apart like this." He shifts again, feeling a little restless due to your words and his own thoughts making him long for you ever more. He hesitates for a moment, his heart racing as he imagines your touch. If he tries hard enough, he swears he can nearly feel the ghost of your fingertips combing through his hair. "Keep going. Tell me something else."

His voice comes out a bit muffled, and he is inadvertently tightening his grip on the phone a little, almost as if it'll bring him closer to you, somehow.

"Like what?" You ask without hesitation. Well, it's better than you playing a guessing game with him, at least. You were notoriously horrible at those, anyways.

Leon takes a deep breath while he clumsily mimics your touch by idly running his fingers through his hair. His hands are not comparable to yours at all. They're rougher and completely different in size. He drops his hand back onto the sheets with a small, frustrated huff.

"Anything. Just... keep talking. Your voice, it’s…" He clears his throat and considers the precise words he should use here. He's sure on where he is going with this, either. He simply knew that he needed to hear you, and that this need was gradually developing into a full-on craving that was desperate to be satisfied. "I want to hear more of it. And... what you’d do to me if you were here."

That's subtle enough, he thinks. He's fine with you being the one to decide on the way to interpret him. He just wanted to listen to you.

But, admittedly, his brain had other ideas.

As Leon closes his eyes, his mind is racing with countless ideas, none of which are as innocent as a simple cuddle or a hand stroking through his hair. He imagines your weight settled on top of him, steadying him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your bodies mold and move together, skin to skin, with nothing but your presence there to fill his head with. Your sweet voice whispering all the things he wants to hear, your warm breath waffling over his ear.

All the ways in which you hold him, touch him, want him.

Your voice, which sounds nearly muffled through the pleasant fog buzzing in his head, jolts him out of his fantasy.

"Oh. ...Ohhh," you draw out, the realization clear in your voice. He almost snorts in endearment. Well, at least you caught on. His heart flutters in his chest with wordless excitement as the thought causes heat to rush to his face. Nearly subconsciously, he reaches for the other side of the bed with his free hand, almost as if you would be there. Which, of course, you're not. Much to his disappointment. "We're not... talking about cuddles here, are we?"

The tone of your voice changes, and Leon's breath catches a little. He can imagine how flushed your cheeks probably look, how your heart is beating a little faster at the realization. At this point, he was too worked up to restrain himself. Besides, the cat's out of the bag now. Not much point in walking back on his own words. Biting his lip, he lets his fingers slowly slide down his abdomen as he contemplates your words. Would you be up to what he has in mind? He hopes you would.

"No. No we’re not." He reaches for his belt and slowly starts to unfasten it. The button on his jeans is next. Then the zipper. The release of some tension causes him to inhale sharply, feeling the cool air against his skin, a small shiver running up his spine. He closes his eyes. "Keep. Talking."

His tone is direct, curt, rough. It's the same one often uses on the job, perfect for giving out clear orders in the heat of the moment, but using it under these circumstances definitely hits a little different. Especially for you. He can hear your breath quicken just a tiny bit, wordlessly reassuring him that you are, indeed, just as into this as he is. He smiles a little at the thought, feeling both relieved and little amused. He can imagine you lying there, your mind running hundred miles an hour to come up with a response while holding the phone up to your ear. He wonders if your other hand is wandering south now, too.

"Well I'd, uhm..." He lets you take your time and get your bearings, not hurrying you further. Hell, he's perfectly fine with you pulling out of this if it just wasn't clicking for you. He made his intentions clear. Now it was up to you to make the call, whatever it was. On any other day, he'd be the one getting all awkward over talking of these things outloud, but today, his mind is focused solely on your voice coming through the speaker. He hears you sigh, a sound steadying, and he feels himself smile. There you go. "I'd... want to kiss you. Long. Until we're both out of breath. And you get that dazed look in your eyes. You look so beautiful when you get like that. And just from me kissing you, too."

Leon listens to every word with keen interest, his eyebrows raising as you create a vivid picture in his mind for him to mull over. It was relatively tame, but it was a good starting point. Not to mention genuine. He can almost sense the warm touch of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. You calling him beautiful was a nice cherry on top, making his breathing quicken in turn.

With his movements jerkier and clumsier than usual due to the excitement that was now steadily flowing through his veins, he quickly pulls his shirt over his head. He doesn't really look where it lands, just throwing it somewhere to the side with zero regard for decency. Not like it matters.

With his eyes still closed, he moves his hand slowly down his bare chest, grazing each ridge of his abs with his fingertips before lowering it further. He tries to mimic the manner in which you would touch him from memory. It's not a flawless attempt, bit it's good enough in his books. He can't help but groan softly, finding himself wanting to press into his own touch, if only to feel even the fraction of how your affection would feel like upon his battered body.

"And then?" He prompts, his voice lower now, charged with underlying tension hanging in the air. He knows full well that you can probably sense the hunger and anticipation he's not trying very hard to conceal. He wishes he could actually see you right now. But, alas, this will have to do.

"-What are you doing right now?" Your voice breaks him out of his momentary fantasy, his heart picking up speed in his chest as he focuses on you: every little change in your breathing, the dip in your tone, the words you choose to say to him. He hears you swallow before continuing: "What would you have me do if I was there? I could... y'know, go from there."

His heart swells with affection as he laughs a little. You weren't very slick. Then again, you never were. He liked you for that. It was painstakingly clear that you were just eager to hear exactly what he was up to. He was happy you were enjoying yourself.

He moves again, lying on his side, and switching the phone to loudspeaker while resting it on the cushion next to him before sitting back up to get comfortable. His own breath comes out shakily now, charged with rising arousal. Slowly, his other, free hand moves up his stomach, stopping at his chest. He huffs softly as he imagines your touch.

"I’d… I’d have you sit here." He moves his hand up to one of his pectorals and squeezes slightly as he pictures your fingers squeezing at his flesh instead. The action, along with his imagination, makes him bite his lip again, sucking in a breath through his nose. "Right in my lap."

He can’t help letting out a quiet 'fuck...' as he imagines you on top of him, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him, long and deep. Oh, what he wouldn't give just to have you close and to feel your lips against his again. He misses you so much that it's a little humiliating, but his mind is too hazy to care. No, all he cares about is you touching his bare skin with your hands, stroking the rising flames of his desire with every cares. Lost in the fantasy of your hand taking the place of his own, his hand slides higher up and touches his chin, causing sparks to bloom on his skin as he tilts his head back. He'd be just as pliant with you here, if not even more so. Just to feel wanted by you.

His mind is buzzing from the faint sounds of your own breathing coming through the speaker, which he can hear stuttering and quickening through the delightful fog filling his head. He doesn't push you into talking if you dont want to. However, he is well aware that you are not merely listening to him while innocently laying in your bed. He knows you well enough now to catch onto your state of arousal through the change in your breathing alone. He likes the thought of you doing the same as him right now. He hears some muffled shuffling on the other end of the line, something akin to bed covers being tousled around before you reply to him.

"On your lap," you repeat, almost as if testing out the idea in your head. Your tone is tight, and he can hear you take a single steadying breath before continuing: "I'd like that."

"Good," he finds himself responding, a faint smile on his lips. It's a small encouragement, just to let you know he's very much enjoying himself. To his surprise, you continue without any further promting from him.

"-I'd love to treat you after you get back. Just have you lay back and feel good while I take care of everything. Relax. You deserve it."

Your comments cause Leon's breath to catch abruptly, and he lets out a small, trembling gasp. He was not ready to hear something like that front you right now. In the best way possible. He is able to practically sense your presence and the grounding weight of your body upon him. As he runs his hand back down his chest and over his abs, they begin to tremble slightly.

"Fuck…" He groans lowly again, his brows drawing together in concentration as he pictures you in his lap. Your warmth against his hardening length, the way your hips would push against his.

His other hand mindlessly slides down as he palms himself through his jeans, his breath stuttering at much-needed stimulation. His hips jolt to press up firmly into his touch, imagining it's your hand instead of his own. He visualizes your fingers moving slowly down his chest. You kissing him all over as you usually do, leaving a trail of warm kisses down his hips and abdomen. He shivers and curses under his breath as the heat coiling in his gut only gets stronger.

"Leon?" It takes all of his inner strength not to whimper in response to your voice, which sounds both uncertain and needy. God, you just had to say his name of all things, huh?

"Keep going. Tell me more," he pants out softly, his voice rough with need. "Would you touch me?"

You laugh at that, and the sound makes him chuckle in response, his heart strangely light in his chest despite the intimate mood. You both sound so breathless. He likes that.

"Is that even a question?" You repeat the same thing you told him just minutes prior, and he can't help but snort. You got him there, he'll give you that. Though, your lighthearted playfulness soon shifts back into hushed arousal. "...Everywhere. Would love to touch you all over."

He swallows.

"Oh yeah? Seems like we both have the same idea."

You pause for a long time, and just as he's about to encourage you to speak your mind or reassure you, you beat him to it. And, boy, do you catch him off-guard.

"Just... Imagining riding you slowly. Make us both really feel all of it, every touch. I want to kiss at your neck, too... taste your skin, feel you shiver. And have my hands roaming all over you, too. Want to treat you right. Feel you."

...Oh, damn.

Leon moans at your words as he squeezes his length through his jeans a little. You just set his mind into overdrive. It's everything he wants and more. Your hands on his skin, your lips trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, making him forget anything and everything but you and your touch. The way your hips would move against his, slowly and sensually, drawing out the pleasure until it becomes unbearable. At this point, his dick is practically aching to be touched, throbbing in the confines of his jeans.

"Jesus," he breathes out, a small, breathless chuckle following suit. Needless to say, you have him wrapped around your finger, even miles upon miles apart. He wouldn't have it any other way. "Keep talking like that and I'll lose it."

"Maybe I want to hear you lose it," you suggest to him softly, almost like you were testing the waters with what you could say to him. The idea makes him want to laugh. You didn't need to worry about a single thing with impressing him.

He quickly reaches for the waistband of his jeans and tugs them down just enough to free himself from the stiffling fabric. He exhales a shuddering breath as cool air hits his heated skin, a sense of relief accompanying the movement. He wastes no time wrapping his fingers over his cock, slowly stroking himself, still imagining your hand in its place instead of his own. Meanwhile, his other hand slides back up his chest, following the trajectory your touch would follow according to his memory. As he imagines you playfully nibbling at the side of his neck and whispering more sickeningly sweet dirty things into his ear, he shivers and gently rolls his thumb over his nipple.

"...Wish you were here," he exhales. He's losing himself in a fantasy that you two have created thus far, and it's getting easier and easier for him to just speak without hesitation or embarrassment. "Want your hands on me. Hips, stomach, chest, cock… everywhere."

In response, he hears you whine, and his mind generously conjures up a variety of possibilities for what you may be doing at the moment, each one more provocative than the last. What he wouldn't give to touch you right now, God. To be the reason behind those lovely sounds you are making.

"-So touch yourself," you instruct, your words barely above a whisper, your breaths coming out in small, shaky puffs of air, each one shooting straight to his groin. "Touch yourself like I would touch you right now. God, I would love to feel you under my hands..."

Leon shudders at your words, his cock throbbing in his hand as he instinctively bucks up, his breath faltering. A low groan leaves his lips, in equal measure in response to you as well as his touch. This time, he imagines you watching him, your own hand on yourself as well. Your lips parted and your cheeks flushed with arousal as you look at him dutifully.

"Fuck… I am,” he pants out, his hand moving a tad faster over his length. He senses himself leaking, the tip of his cock slick with precum. He spreads it around with his thumb, squeezes at the base, and then draws his hand back up. He bites his lip to stop another moan from slipping out, though, at this point it seems to be a futile effort. He's surprised he hasn't tasted blood yet. "Your hands would feel so good right now… so much better than mine…"

"Leon..." He hears you moaning out his name, and he swears that he almost came right then and there from the sound of it alone.

His free hand slides back up to his chest, gently squeezing at one of his nipples with the tips of his fingers. He pulls at it lightly, his brain picturing your teeth instead of his fingers. His back arches up towards the touch, a low groan leaving his lips.

"Tell me… where would you touch me?" He asks, his voice strained. "Be direct."

Your breath catches, as though you're taken aback by his question. But he was greedy, and he wanted more. He could feel his insides twisting and turning in the pit of his stomach, and not in a bad way. His spiraling brain almost couldn't handle the mental image of you touching yourself while on the phone with him, even though he was doing that exact same thing.

"Your chest," you murmur breathlessly, almost like the words were stealing your breath away as you shared them with him. And yet, you went on: "I want to touch your chest. Caress you all over... Squeeze at you, play with your nipples while I kiss the side of your neck and listen to you gasp and whine. Just like you like it."

Leon instantly visualizes your touch on him and lets out a deep wanton moan.

"Yes," he exhales. "Like that. Miss you..."

"-Miss you, too... so much." His head reels as you echo those words back to him in that breathy, almost whiny tone, and his hips automatically buck up into his hand in an attempt to feel what he perceives to be your touch.

He groans softly, running his hand over his chest, more to tease than to touch. Just as you said, he circles his nipple again and rolls the hardened bud under his thumb. Squeezing it just the way you would for him if you were here. Even if it's a poor substitute for the real thing. "Your mouth, too. Want it all."

Using his precum as lube, he begins to stroke himself quicker, rougher. He moves his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a bit at the tip before returning back to the base in a familiar technique. Seeking the increasing pleasure coiling in his gut, he thrusts his hips up into his hand.

And as he hears every tiny sound of pleasure coming from your end, his desire for more only intensifies. You seem to be enjoying yourself just as much, stuttered breaths and muffled whines flowing through the receiver. He is saddened by the fact that he cannot see you in person at this moment in all your glory. But, this will have to do.

You exhale.

"Yeah," you encourage softly, your own voice breathy and hushed with arousal. "I'm right there with you."

"-Wish you were," he gasps out, his eyes shut tight as he wills himself to somehow bring this fleeting fantasy to life, however briefly. "Would feel so much better with you here."

"I am. Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. My hands stroking you, my mouth on your skin... Whatever you want. I'll give it to you. You deserve it."

Leon's already thin breaths come out in unsteady gasps as a result of your sweet encouragements. Your breathy and needy voice is somehow making him even more aroused than he already is, if that was even possible. His free hand descends to roam over his abdomen, primarily to visualize your hands mindlessly stroking his flesh. It's maddening.

"Fuck, you are too good at this…" He pants out, his hips thrusting up into his hand. Instead of continuing to trace over his lower abdomen, his hand reaches up to comb through his hair, just like you would, the delightful sensation sending jolts of pleasure directly to his cock. "Too good to me. Want to touch you, too. Whatever you want."

In order to give himself greater room to move around without experiencing any discomfort, he spreads his legs somewhat wider. He inadvertently starts to imagine you in a position between them, your head bobbing up and down as you take him in. His cock throbs at the mere thought, another droplet of precum dripping from its tip. Oh, he's lost it completely.

He listens to you groan quietly, and the realization that his words have the same impact on you as yours do on him makes him feel proud. The sound of your pleasure creates a fuzzy sensation in his head, blocking out all thoughts but you, you, you. His mind creates a fairly realistic image of what you are doing at the moment, even while he is itching to actually see you. And, God, was that picture irresistible.

"I want that too... Want to make you feel good."

Leon slightly squeezes the base of his cock at your whispered wants, another shudder rippling through him. He is acutely aware that he is getting close now, his balls drawing up tight and a growing coil of tension simmering deep in his gut.

"-Shit, I'm so fucking close," he pants heavily, his hips thrusting up into his hand steadily. He imagines you straddling him, riding him with all you have until you are both a gasping, trembling mess. Your hands wrapped snuggly over his neck and your lovely eyes on him the whole way through. The moan that comes out of him at the thought is borderline obscene as his head falls back, hot pleasure coiling in his gut until it's borderline unbearable. He does have enough sense in him left to warn you, though, however clumsy. Or maybe ask for permission. He isn't sure, and he is far too dazed to figure it out. "Jesus, fuck, going to cum-"

"That's alright, let go, I want to hear you," you coo at him softly through shaky puffs of air, a hint of urgency laced in your words. You were obviously getting impatient yourself while listening to him enjoying himself, whether that meant you were getting close or not. Either way, it was hot. "Cum for me, Leon. Please."

He didn't need to be told twice.

It only takes him a couple more rough strokes before he comes to a halt and shudders, his cock spurting ropes of his release into his hand and stomach, a broken gasp of your name leaving his lips in a desperate mantra before the pleasure slowly subsides. He's left panting, catching his breath from the pleasurable high of his orgasm as he plops back down on the bed, letting his body relax and gather its bearings.

"Jesus Christ, that was... wow..." He exhales, his voice ragged. As his mind gradually clears from the haze of pleasure that clouded his senses moments prior, he laughs softly, his voice full of tiredness and a hint of sheepishness. He turns his head to the phone, almost like he'd see you there. "You okay? Did you...?"

...He didn't even check if you came or not. Now he kind of feels like an ass.

"Y-Yeah. Just now." Because of your stuttering breaths, your words are a little unsteady. Whether you came with him or moments after, he doesn't really care. He's just glad you were left satisfied, too. Somewhat. Really, this was still more about him than you. He should fix that next time you do this.

He lets out a soft and warm chuckle at the thought. Next time. He was already thinking of next time, huh? Either way, that familiar subtle tremor in your voice makes him smile to himself, wishing he could reach out and stroke your cheek with the back of his hand right now.

"Good. I'm... I'm glad. Got worried there for a sec." He reaches over and grabs a tissue off his nightstand to quickly clean himself up. After tossing the tissue away, he leans back against the bed, feeling completely relaxed. "That was... something. Definitely needed that. Thank you."

A pleasant sense of calm washes over him as he sighs, closing his eyes. The subtle ache in his muscles and post-organasmic bliss is a welcome contrast to the constant tension he was dealing with lately.

"Happy to hear that." While he's unable to see you, he can still hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile in turn. You take a deep, steadying breath, some rustling following suit as you probably clean yourself up and get comfortable. He didn't prod you. It didn't feel awkward at all when you were on the line with him. Despite his wish for you to actually be here.

"...I can't wait to see you again. To actually hold you, kiss you, make up for lost time," he promises, his voice unusually soft and intimate. "Tell you what, once I get back, we'll spend a whole weekend in bed, just the two of us. No phones, no work, no distractions. Just us."

His wistful smile is accompanied by the image of you in his bed, warm and cozy as you nuzzle up to him. God knows he didn't need anything more to be happy.

"That sounds lovely. I might just hold you to that," you giggle, those same familiar playful notes making their appearance again as you both come down from your highs.

"Hey... Do you mind staying with me on the line tonight? I don't... really want to hang up," he confesses, a bit embarrassed, but unwilling to just part with you so quickly. He can't help but feel a bit clingy.

"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."

He laughs at that, shaking his head.

"God, I love you."

"I love you more."

[dipperscavern]

Can i request Robb Stark with reader who doesn’t like the cold/gets cold easily?

absolutely!! thank you sm for the ask <3

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

you’ve always hated the cold. ironic, considering you live in the north, but it’s true. the heat you can handle. sure, it’s annoying, but you can function. but when you’re cold, all you can think about is the last time you were warm.

the only times you’ll brave the cold are to go to the godswood (and pray for warmth), to hunt, and to ride. anything else can either wait until the sun makes its appearance, or can be done inside the warm halls of winterfell. those are your exceptions.

okay, well, when you said hunting — you meant by yourself. maybe theon. you did not mean the entire royal hunting party of winterfell.

your first response was to deny the invitation to the day-long affair of bracing the cold, but you’re the best archer in winterfell. they need you. and ned stark himself asked you to come, so here you were. trudging through the wolfswood, draped in furs & freezing your arse off.

“I can’t believe she’s doin’ it. Look at her..” theon murmurs to robb. robb nods, the corners of his lips tugging up in a smirk as he watches you.

you’re tightly wound, trying to conserve what little warmth you have. you practically radiate dislike, and theons got bets on how long you’ll last until you call upon the old gods to strike the entire forest down (midday). your horse doesn’t carry your disdain for the snow. having been bred for the cold, it dutifully marches on — allowing you to hug yourself tightly, conserving what little warmth you have.

robb’s brows pinch in sympathy knowing your misery, but he can’t help the silent thanks he gives to the gods for dragging you out here. to rectify that, he sends a silent prayer to ask that the stag that was spotted is caught quickly, so you can retreat back to the heated halls of winterfell. he’s not entirely selfish.

apparently the gods are not taking prayers today.

every time the scent is picked up or tracks are spotted, they’re lost just as easily. even greywind isn’t having any luck — but then again, he’s barely the size of a dog. even so, robb can see your resolve withering. he attempts to fix it, draping his outermost layered fur coat over you. you lightly shiver, sighing as you feel the extra layer work to trap more of your warmth.

“I owe you my life.”

“You’ll be alright. ‘S not too bad out ‘ere.”

his attempts at making the cold seem better than it actually is only result in you sending him a glare, and he’s not sure he’s ever seen such hatred. your conversation is interrupted by shouts, and the scent is picked up once more. they’ve spotted the animal running off, and ned orders for people to go around & enclose it.

you’re eager to get it over with and be done, ready to return to the fur blankets in your room. ready to be warm.

you tie your horse, getting off & trudging to where you guess it’ll be forced to go. most of everyone is focused on pushing it in this direction, and you can only hope there’s a weirwood around here to hear your prayers. you hear shouts, the hooves of horses, and something tearing through the trees. you raise your bow, notching an arrow & waiting.

“Atta girl!” ned says, arm wrapped around your shoulders.

the stag lays on the ground, dead, with an arrow in its skull. you offer a polite smile, but really, you’re just thanking the gods it’s done with. there’s snow in your boots, you’re shivering, your knuckles are red, and you can feel the cold in your bones. you saunter over to robb and theon, muttering under your breath.

“Curse the cold. Curse the cold. Curse the cold…”

theon snickers to himself, and you have half a mind to knock him off his horse. you’re feeling merciful, and instead choose peace. you untie your horse, eagerly starting the journey back to winterfell.

thanks to your arrow, everyone eats well that night, including you. the hall is warm, the atmosphere filled with laughter & your belly is full — a right reward for getting frostbite on your liver. you decide to retire to bed early, the days activities having you beat. robb walks you to your chambers, and you lean into his warmth. he’s always run hot, and he’s happy to share the body heat.

you arrive to the door, and turn to robb to say goodnight. you subconsciously chase his warmth, grabbing one of his hands & playing with it, feeling your cooler ones heat up from the contact.

“Y’did good today.”

you shrug. “Wasn’t horrible…” you’re lying. it was. robb knows it too.

he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Still. Know you hate the cold.”

robb’s hand goes to your jaw, tilting it up as he kisses you. his lips are soft, and warm. he’s caught you off guard, and you can feel him smiling against your lips. once the kiss breaks, you both linger in each others presence. has he ever been so charming?

he’s out to prove you right when he leans in, kissing your temple & murmuring a soft “Night, pretty.”

he turns & walks down the hallway, knowing if he looks back he won’t be sleeping in his room. you watch him leave, and you feel your cheeks heat up as you open your door & step inside.

maybe you’ll have to brave the cold more often.

[valdotpng]

yea so um. hello everybody!!!!! looong time no see. im alive and very sorry for the radio silence this past half of a year. i Really didnt think my hiatus would last that long but then bad stuff just kept happening again and again and again n all of it was really difficult to process/start coping with. honestly im still not in the best shape (both physically & mentally) to this day.. but i thought that i might as well come back online, even if i end up posting little-to-no art

[shuploc]

I will be posting a little Astarion piece later today! 🤗

[b4kuch1n]

Hi! it's dember and some stuff has Happened and I am now in need of a buffer between now and lunar new year. so I'm opening for

digital ink commission

How this works is

comms will open for one hour at a time or until 5 pieces are in the queue, whichever condition comes later

I will edit and reblog this post when it opens or closes, so if you're not sure if I'm taking comms or not please click through to the original post to check!

I will take commissions via email to b4kuch1n@gmail.com; please include visual or textual references as well as your PayPal email in your inquiry.

a confirmation email will be sent out once your commission's added to the queue. I reserve the right to turn down any commission I receive (in which case I'll also tell you via email)

payment will be through PayPal - please wait for the invoice before paying - and made in full before I start on your commission.

there will be no sketch revision. please keep this in mind when preparing your references

UPDATE 30/12/2023: Commission closed! Thank you very much for the support!

[ratguy-nico]

PEOPLE

I just finish this awesome commission for @goldendoodlerlockerlove and I just love this, love love love >w<

My precious baby give me full creative freedom and I decided to go all crazy muppet style

This is obviousley a commission but I consider it one of my babies, though Golden made the scene and dialogue, but I put my touch of course. This is our little muppet baby.

This is Alexis (Golden OC) meething the parents. And this is my headcanon: (suprise)

For me Bob has this reaction cause when he meet Linda's parent it didn't went that well. I mean this is the man their daughter left his nice fiance on the altar for so yeah, not big fans.

And on Bob's side, when he introduce Linda to Big Bob, even if he wasn't rude, he didn't say or did much. And you know Bob interprets this as if he doesn't care.

So Bob here want to show Gene that he cares, and also he is having a moment, his redemption arc. Let him enjoy it.

This kinda made me want to even made comics about Bob and Linda meeting the parents (is never going to happened)

THANKS SO MUCH TO GOLDEN not only cause of the commission, but for the patiance, and cause I love this so much.

[carlyraejepsans]

you ever write several hundred words of nothing but a character portrait of someone getting a bone crushing hug and trying to mentally deal with it in one single swoop of inpired writing and then step back and be like hm. so i'm a little bit touch starved maybe

[vortahoney]

I wish any of you nerds ever fucked with country music bc Turnpike Troubadour’s “Old Time Feeling (Like Before)” is the Sam/Evan song of all time

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k

There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead. 

Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this. 

He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs.  Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!

Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair. 

Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.

He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.

His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?" 

Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–

The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs. 

One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles. 

There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him. 

"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"

Oh. Yes. That. 

It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.

Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to. 

Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly. 

Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.

Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor. 

Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step. 

Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-

Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's. 

He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.

Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before. 

Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray. 

He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further. 

Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs,  "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"

Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of! 

But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons. 

[running-in-the-dark]

I have officially started painting the walls in the living room.

well, I've mixed/adjusted the paint and painted some swatches and put up masking tape and all that stuff. I'll be painting tomorrow. I'm so excited (to get started, but mostly that I'll finally be all done with evvvverything*)

*until I think of the next thing I want to do, and the next one after that, and -

[waterfallofspace]

When H/awks gets a voice message from D/abi, he doesn't have a clue what he's getting into. (Strongly implied kink!Hawks)

First H/otwings wav~ (and content at all~). It's nothing super big, just a little idea I've had for a bit, and I had time to throw something together~ Mayyybe the fact (most of) it's a voice message can forgive the quality issues? <3

[nobodyproblematic]

Daniel from Little Hope looks so huggable.

[marclef]

Art request/trade?

Ooooo! May my Witch!Peppino be blessed with arts? I promise to make a super cute Eyhm in return🙏

YYYEEESSSS ABSOLUTELY that is such a cute pep design 🥺

i tried making him a little bit more spooky (he's trying his best. don't know if the dollar store broom is helping with that though.)

i hope you like your spooky italian man 👍👍

[edge-oftheworld]

gotta love how quickly I cycle from ‘so proud of them for sharing that what a time to be a 5sos fan!’ to ‘suddenly worried and concerned my chest aches seeing all this WHY CAN’T THEY JUST BE COMPLETELY HAPPY AND AT PEACE ALL THE TIME IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK??’