#//um here you go!

[hawberries]

i don't have a caption for this one

[hrokkall]

Yeah sure I'll let this one free into the wild

[northstarscowboyhat]

Peepaw Starlo struggles. Autism 2 autism communication struggles.

[prowling-muffin]

keferons mimics au has me in a chokehold…..

(close ups ;) )

[arudoe]

soooo um dr amirite

[3twindragons]

It’s been a long dry spell for WinterHawk!

[kakyogay]

more shadow because the silly

[^context for that^] been reading a whole lotta post-movie fics and making up my own in my head. The regulator rings (if that's what they are idk I'm new to all this) are wrecked and chaos energy is just pouring outa the fella, making wounds worse and ruining any progress his accelerated healing could do (BECAUSE ANGST YOU FOOL).

oh and also a wee bit of a doodle for the fic I'll Be There With Lavenders by XenoCG because twas very cute and saw the outfit collage they posted (I already tagged them on insta I don't want to bother them again ouuuuhgh)

[greater-than-the-sword]

Legislative agenda:

Limit car headlight brightness to an amount recommended by eye doctors and traffic safety experts

Replace all prison lights with light posts that have caps

Cap all stadium lighting

Replace all public streetlights with warm colored lights

Limit brightness of all outdoor LED's (likely to a similar amount of lumens as the car headlights were limited to)

Create biannual event where city owned lights, including streetlights, and all businesses over 50 employees MUST turn their lights off for a dark sky night

maybe: Require all unoccupied parking lots turn off their lights 10PM-5AM

Proposed benefits:

Tourism

Education

Boost interest in the sciences and arts

Mental health

Physical health (eye disorders and reduction of sleep disorders)

Increased productivity of workers due to reduction of sleep disorders

The human experience

Eco friendly (Benefits animals)

Eco friendly (saves energy)

Cons:

Criminals target dark parking lots

Rebuttal:

Criminals can't target dark parking lots if they're all equally dark

[nessbunnie]

imagine isagi getting invited to one of his teammate's house parties, and convincing you to come along with him, his shy and sweet gf ! you're not a fan of crowds or gatherings, but you can't avoid social gatherings forever, and you want to spend time with yoichi, so you agree to go.

you regret it almost immediately. even though yoichi's arm is wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him, you can't help but feel lost in the crowds of people :( what's worse, drunk strangers who you've never met in your life keep approaching you when you're even a moment apart from yoichi, asking you things like 'what's your name?' or 'are 'ya here alone?'

your dread intensifies when you come back from the bathroom to see a girl asking yoichi for his number. you see him trying to avoid her, letting out multiple "i have a girlfriend" and declining her advances as calmly as he can, looking uncomfortable as ever when she goes so far as to grab onto his arm, giggling.

you approach the girl and say to her firmly, with all the courage you have,

"he's my boyfriend, so would you stop clinging onto him?"

the girl stiffens and lets out a curt, "sorry, didn't know he had a girlfriend," and walks away, clearly ashamed. ( he told her multiple times he had a gf ugh )

yoichi turns to you to explain the situation, but you just grab onto his hand.

"can we please leave, yoi? 'm tired. and overwhelmed," you ask him.

yoichi simply nods and agrees, "i'm tired too, baby. let's get home, yeah?"

you arrive at yoichi's apartment, legs sore and tired. you plop onto his couch, closing your eyes momentarily.

"how's a movie and cuddles sound?" yoichi asks from the bathroom.

"mm, sounds nice. wanna shower first, though."

yoichi laughs. "i was thinking the same. c'mon, hop in with me 'n we can shower together."

the warm water of the shower trickles down your scalp as yoichi shampoos your hair.

"you were super cute when you called me your boyfriend, by the way."

"shut up!"

hmmm i think 'm gonna make more of these how do we feel ! ( •̀ ω •́ )

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Game night ruined.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

SAGAU thoughts, let's go

Ajax, an Abyss-touched mortal, who has long been told that his violent nature would never garner favor with the gods, much less the Creator. Childe, whose Harbinger comrades care not for the myths of the Creator, preferring to forge their own path. they tell him, the youngest, to allow the Creator to hate him- if that is the exchange for writing their own destinies, the Fatui will gladly take it.

but for Childe, it hurts to think this way. even more so for Foul Legacy; the Abyssal creatures who only have one salvation, the hands of the all-loving Creator. to hear that the Creator will hate him breaks his heart, Legacy taking over their shared body and curling into a corner to sob, taking comfort in the darkness of Childe's room.

the Creator is never seen nor heard, yet still guards all of Teyvat- which is why it's such a surprise when you end up getting tossed into Mondstadt, ripped away from your familiar world into another. it's still familiar, only not in the way you expect, having seen Teyvat behind a screen all this time. all the characters you know and love seem to be dedicated to worshiping you, praising your grace and power and watching your every move.

it's extremely overwhelming. you just want to befriend your favorite characters- the most beloved of which you can't even find! but you're stubborn and determined above all else, and set out alone to find out where Childe, your favorite DPS, could be hiding.

he shies away when he sees you in the distance, your features familiar from so many books and carvings, but instead of disgusted, you look... excited? he blinks, and suddenly you seem much smaller, Foul Legacy's love for you allowing him to hijack Childe's body for a moment. Legacy yelps and shrinks back further, trying to hide himself to avoid what he assumes must be a scornful glare. but instead he feels gentle hands cupping his cheeks, your soft laughter music to his ears as you greet him.

"Hello, Legacy."

his wings flutter upon hearing your kind voice utter his name, with all the love and affection you can give, and when your arms wrap tightly around his waist he feels like he could sing. your hands move to scritch under his chin, and Foul Legacy croons in delight, allowing himself to melt into your touch, snuggling his masked face into your palms. the taint of the Abyss seems far away, the pain soothed beneath your fingertips as Legacy begins to purr for the first time in his life, holding you, his beloved Creator, close to him.

and you let him, hugging him back, because you adore Childe, Foul Legacy, and the Abyss with all your divine heart.

[onismdaydream]

don't you think nanami would look so pretty all tied up?

it started with you binding his wrists together with his own tie, the sorcerer's fingers flexing as he tries not to focus too much on the smooth fabric against his skin. you both knew that he could easily rip through the weak knot but nanami was so careful with his movements, keeping his hands in front of him. gentle kisses to his neck and jaw, sweet praises mumbled against his skin, soft touches to his throbbing cock - all of it felt so much more intense with his restrictions. his tie ended up being stretched and stained, ruined for all intents and purposes. if it were normal circumstances, he'd say it was a shame, in that low and silky voice of his — a damn shame that his favorite tie had to be discarded.

but this was different. they weren't any ordinary circumstances. he loved the feeling of being bound, even if it was just that tiny bit, even if it began as a simple tease. so he easily replaced the tie. made a note to do more research into this new found fascination, to find some new material that wouldn't be so fragile.

over time, the knots became more intricate and secure, restricting more than just his wrists. there were times when all four of nanami's limbs were tied to the bed posts, times when you wrapped the ropes and silks so beautifully around him. an elegant and irresistible present for you to ravish.

you took your time leaving marks on his skin, biting and nipping at his thighs. you always admired that part of nanami, his thick and solid thighs that stretched his fitted pants. now, with the rope gently squeezing into the muscles, you couldn't help but cover him in dark bruises.

soft grunts and moans left nanami's lips, his mouth slightly parted as he panted, his gaze never once leaving your face. he could feel your breath fanning across his aching cock, twitching as a smile made its way to your lips. "so pretty like this, kento," you purr, your hands sliding up his legs, resting on his thighs. "all tied up like a present."

you don't give him time to respond — not that he would've, his brain too focused on the skin on skin contact. your tongue darted out to collect the precum that had gathered on his tip, your eyes fluttering at the taste and his own squeezing shut from the sensation. his fingers grasped at nothing, bound helplessly behind his back as you lowered your head, taking more of his length into your velvety mouth.

[raiiny-bay]

some WIPs from the 80s AU i never finished

[mwagneto]

You seem very white. Maybe when you are screeching about Watson you should shut the fuck up and keep in mind that your little bullshit doesn't fucking matter in the face of representation that does matter. And yes, actually: to the sane world, Adler and Holmes were lovers. They were literally written that way in the vernacular. Sorry you're too dumb to know that. Go jerk off to Bernadick whitedick slash and leave Black watson alone.

i considered deleting this coz it's easily one of the nastiest asks i have ever received (and that's saying a LOT) but it's just so perfect. like i'm fully convinced you don't actually think any of this because every single word of this seems crafted specifically for me to try and make me angry. i can't even pick a favourite line. you're SO pissed off at me even though i never even said watson was bad. i literally only have bad things to say about bbc shitlock on the very rare occasion i mention it but you somehow assumed i like it for seemingly no reason. the way "maybe when you are screeching you should shut the fuck up" is like a direct quote from rdj sherlock (i can't do both). and again i literally never even said watson was bad😭

i have nothing serious to say to this coz clearly none of it is in good faith it's just designed to bait me into being mad but "to the sane world adler and holmes were lovers" was so fucking funny. what in the god damn hell are you talking about. here i made this one special just for you<3 goodnight

[plush-rabbit]

Hole in One

I promised nsfw of him and here it is:)

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I saw art where he has like these fucking tendrils come out of his face hole and I needed that&lt;3

Jonathan has certainly changed after the Super-Collider. Not only was his appearance affected, with his body elongating and compressing, but also features disappearing. However, his personality was also altered. He’s become more possessive, and clingy. He hardly ever allows you to leave your home during your days off. Sure, you have to go and buy groceries and run your errands, but he needs you. 

If you were to be honest with yourself, you like being needed. You adored the attention that he was giving you. You thrived under it, knowing that you were the one that he cared so much for.

So when you come home and he calls for you, touching and rutting against you while you sit on his lap, you roll your hips, feeling yourself leak arousal. It’s been too long since you’ve had any sort of intimacy with him that led to sex. Most intimacy ended right before it got physical, and you knew that would be an issue- he was still insecure about his body- you only had your fingers to pleasure yourself in the shower. Now that he has you on his lap, rutting and whining about how nice and sweet you are to him, you want nothing more than to have anything of him inside of you.

You press your lips to kiss against his jawline, peppering him in soft kisses and letting your hands cup over his chest. His hands find themselves over your hips, going under your shirt to feel your skin.  “I gotta say,” you mumble, “I miss your nipples.” He hisses out your name and you smile as you kiss down his neck. “It’s true. You were always so sensitive-” the pad of your thumb swipes over where they should have been- “always whined and buck when I’d twist them.”

“I wouldn’t whine,” he mewls, looking down at you. Pinching softly as the skin on your stomach, he tilts his head. “I miss being able to kiss you.”

Smiling softly, you press a kiss on the edge of one his spots near the collarbone. “I tried not to bring it up before, but you’re um, kinda flat down there.”

“Huh?”

“You’re missing your dick, Jonny,” you murmur, rimming a hole with the point of your index finger. 

“Oh um-” he clears his throat and the spot on his face divots at the top- “it's in a hole.”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Watch.” His hand shots down to his middle, and between the small space that you’ve created, his knuckles bump against your crotch. You roll your hips against his knuckles and he’s polite enough not to say anything. Oh, it really has been a while since you’ve had any sort of action. You watch as a spot forms, swirling and dark, little lines of it rippling around, and you blink and suddenly, you’re staring at his cock. 

With a watering mouth, you realize that it really has been a while. “Fuck Jonathan,” you mumble, trying to keep yourself composed.

“Good or bad?” He asks, uncertainty and insecurity twisted into his words. 

Having to peel your eyes away from his cock, you look up at him. “Mind if I blow you?” He nods rapidly. “Cool.” You kiss at the edge of the spot on his face. 

You sit on your knees, your hands pushing against his thighs to spread his legs. Appearing from the hole, the cock springs upwards, pure white, lacking any kind of spots. There’s a bit of coloration- a light gray that you wonder if it’s supposed to be his own coloration except in monochrome, or if it's blushing. From the hole, his package also exits the spot, resting over the edge. The spot itself is perfectly shaped for him with dark swirling lines around the edge of the hole, but there are no gaps- not an inch of room for you to rim and poke around. 

“You’re bigger than before,” you say in a whisper. Moving closer to his erection, you press your face against it. “A lot bigger.” You can feel your cunt twitch at the thought of him going inside of you. 

He’s looking down at you, his spot dilated and swirling. “You uh- like it?”

It really has been a while for you. You don’t even want to answer him- all that you can think about it putting him in your mouth. His skin is different than before, almost like a latex feel- or rubber. You aren’t entirely sure of the proper comparison but at the moment, it doesn’t matter.

Pressing a kiss against his cockhead, you pull back, swiping a tongue underneath his head. Other than the color and stretched size, it looks exactly like his did before- down to the vein on the underside, the soft curve to it, and the leaking head. You grab at the base of his cock, and he mumbles your names, hands lifting weakly before they fall back to the bed with a thump. Your tongue peeks out and you swipe over the slit, tasting the semen on your tongue.

It still tastes like him.

Oh, you’ve really missed him.

“Can you-” he falters with his sentence- “Please,” he begs.

You open your mouth to him, pushing yourself midway, already feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. He’s much longer than before. Pulling away, a thin sheen of spit covers him. Your hand wraps around his base, pumping him, and you return to him, feeling his thighs jolt at the touch. Taking him into your mouth, you can feel how hot and heavy he feels, and he leaks into your mouth, and you greedily swallow it all. 

There’s never been a stronger want than now. You need him. You worship him, suckling him and hollowing your cheeks, desperate as he is to make him cum. Your jeans rub against your crotch, and you can't think how his heavy scent fills your lungs and makes your mouth water. Unbuckling them right now is the least of your concerns when you can just rut against the friction with the thick material. Pulling his cock off of your mouth, it bobs and taps against your face, leaving your spit sticking to your skin. You watch in awe as it reaches well past your face. Even thinking about it going inside of you makes you want to skip the foreplay and just put it in. The sting of it might actually be worth it. 

Pushing yourself back against his cock, you take him again, shivering at how thick even his pre-ejacualtion is. Oh, your poor Jonathan- too pent up for who knows how long. You;d make up for lost time, you’re sure of it. You won’t let go of his cock until the both of you are spent and even then, you’d want him to be buried deep in your cunt, stretching and hitting deep at your core. You moan against him, the thought of him filling you with his seed and keeping it inside of you makes your cunt throb.

Your jaw almost hurts with how you have to push so far down, choking and spit dribbling in the corner of your mouth. But he sounds so good, moaning and panting your name with his hand holding onto the crown of your head. You focus on slurping him, suckling on his cockhead like it would produce you milk, moaning and rubbing yourself against the seam of your pants while he jerks and moans. 

He calls your name, broken and low, his hand fisting into your hair. “I’m gonna- Fuck!” He tilts his head back, bucking his hips into your mouth, his cockhead pushing against the inside of your cheek. “Your mouth- I fucking-” The sound of you gagging echoes in your ears, and you can feel strands of spit spill from your mouth. 

Your hand grasps onto his package, massaging and rolling the pair around in your hand. It feels so heavy in your hands- burning and weighted with pent frustration. Adjusting him in your mouth, your lips circle around the middle of his cock, his seed spilling and filling your mouth. It’s thick, and gooey, resting flat on your tongue and when you lean back, spills past the corner of your lips. Looking up at him, there are tears in your eyes, and your mouth closes, swallowing the seed and letting it burn down your throat. 

As you stand, you can feel how slick your underwear is. It slips and sticks and you need to take off everything. You’re too hot- too aroused to even want to consider giving him a show, but as he looks at you, his cock stays erect, twitching as a gossamer string of cum hangs and drips onto the floor.

Your clothes fall into a pile and he’s looking at you with his spot swirling and erratic, and you can’t help but smile. Oh, that has to be a good sign.  There’s fleeting spots of gray that stretch over his face, and you’re pulled on the bed. 

Laying on the bed with your legs bent, you watch as he dips his face down. The hands on your legs squeeze, and you suck in a breath through your teeth. You can feel his face nuzzle against your thighs, soft little upwards strokes that lead down to your cunt. 

A hand lets go of you, and you wait, and wait, the anticipation killing you and making you throb. You think about calling his name, wanting him to do something other than just stare at you. Something wet slicks against your cunt, and you yelp, body lifting and skin crawling with goosebumps. It’s wet and feels slimy- a feeling that you aren’t totally opposed to. His tongue- you think it’s his tongue- slides around your cunt.

“I’m sorry! I just- I wanted to try- Are you okay?” He peeks his head up from between your thighs.

“I uh- No, no. That was just a surprise. Keeping going,” you say breathlessly.

Your hands fist into the cover and you feel him lap at your cunt. It oozes over you, thin and viscid, snaking down the inside of your thighs to the bedsheets. You buck your hips. Gasps and moans fill the room, and you need him to keep going. His tongue zigzags over your cunt in fat strides, the point of it liking upwards around your hardened clit. Your hands find themselves at your breasts, pulling and twisting at your nipples. 

He does such a good job with whatever he’s using. 

“Fuck, Jonathan!” You yelp, lifting your hips when something else laps at your cunt, when something smaller and thinner teases at the edge of you, dipping in to feel you clench around him, but pulling away with ease. “No- Fuck, inside, please,” you moan, bucking your hips.

It doesn’t feel like it’s his hands, and it can’t be his hands because they’re holding your thighs, stretching and pushing them away. You don't have much time to think about it when your clit is rubbed with the flat of his tongue. 

Something wet is against your crotch and you aren't sure what it is, it feels like it's a lot- thick and slimy. You grind against his face with stuttering hips and a twitchy cunt. Wet, clicking sounds fill the room, his tongue working you into a frenzy, scuttling around your heat, and his face buries deeper as if he can’t get close enough, as he has to be in you- or you in him considering how his holes work. He eats like a starving man which isn’t completely untrue- and he’s simply lapping and swiping at your sex. 

Gasping and panting, you keen at how close you are, and in what is the cruelest he has ever been, he pulls away. You look up to see something slither back into his face hole, and he’s shining in your arousal, and his spit. 

Your face is flushed and eyes squinted in frustration. “Jonathan,” you wail, a hand shooting down to finish the job yourself. Except a hole stops you, and your hand shows up on the other side of the room, reaching for you, and grabbing for nothing. “Jonathan-”

“I wanna feel,” he says, grabbing at the base of his cock, and swiping it up your cunt. His head touches at your clit, and a jolt causes you to arch your back. He slides it back down and his cock enters you.  You pull your hand back, fisting when you feel him.

His hands find themselves back at your legs and he bends them, letting your cunt stretch and you feel him push further into you. Hands grips below your knees, and your hands bend to rest beside you. His thrusts are heavy and strong, and he’s bent over, looking into you as you whine and writhe under him. 

Frantically, he’s burying himself deep, and you can feel it all- every twitch of his cock, the way that it stretches and makes you want to cry that it’s far too much, but you’re unable to speak, too lost on the feeling of him finally being inside of you to actually think clearly. He ruts into you, and you stare at the hole in his face. He’s so much bigger than he was before, towering over you, having to hunch himself over to keep you at face level. He’s unforgiving, whimpering and cursing under his breath. He bullies your cunt, and it’s clear that he really needed this- that he needed you. You can hear soft gasps, and moans that sound deep and strained, and you think you see his hole twitch and spasm when you call his name. 

“Jonathan,” you mewl, tilting your head backwards. “‘S feels so good.” Your words are simple, mind hazy and muddled as the man before you slams his hips against yours. Sex is nothing like it was before, and you think it has to do with whatever built up pressure the two of you have had. You arch your back, your body shaking and squeezing against him as an orgasm crashes through your body. “More, more,” you plead, your hands reaching to grasp at his forearms, clawing at his skin. You don’t now why you waited to fuck him- you wouldn’t have if you knew that he was this needy and pent-up. 

The spot on his face is enlarged and swirling. Staring it feels too much- like you’re going to get sucked into it and never come out. You wonder if his holes feel good too. Reaching a hand, you swirl it around one near the crook of his elbow. He thrusts into you sharply, groaning and bending his head down. 

“You feel so good,” he laments. Something jolts inside of you- he sounds off, echoey and deeper. “Love how you feel.” he thrust into you and you gasp, fluttering your eyes close as he bullies your cervix. Through fluttering blinks, you watch as his jolts and the spots stretch over, almost encasing part of his shoulder in black. You wheeze and close your eyes when he pushes himself deeper into you. “‘S all mine.” You feel something wet drip on your chest and when looking, it comes out of his face hole in thick, dark drops. “I wanna be deep inside of you.”  He speaks in a guttural voice as he rocks his hips into you. 

There’s a knot in your stomach that tightens with every thrust, and you whine and moan, twisting and jittering as he pistons into you. You can’t bring yourself to speak, only moaning and wailing the closer that you get, the more that he fucks you in a way he hadn’t before. 

“Never wanna let you go.” You return the sentiment by clamping around his cock. “I wanna fuck you,” he slurs, giving short, quick thrusts into you. “Fuck you till you’re full.”

His spots swirl and move and the way that he speaks isn’t his voice, but an echo of it, devoid of emotion, only hunger and possession that lays mixed into the vowels and constants. You really do think you’re going to be sucked into him with how serious he is. 

Your body shakes and stutters as you reach your high, clamping around his cock, whining and clawing your nails into him to keep him close to you. 

“Where?” He asks, his voice melding to sound more like him. “I wanna- Where?” He calls your name, weakly and shakily pushing himself inside of you. His body jolts and twitches, the hands on your squeezing and scratching your skin. “Can I cum inside?” He lowers himself, resting his forehead against your own. “Please. I wanna so bad,” he mumbles. 

“Inside, please,” you mutter,  reaching up to kiss at his skin that burns under your touch. “Wanna feel full.” It’s enough to set him off, chasing his high, fucking you through your own. You squeal, legs twitching and body feeling as if it's on pins.

Even as he reaches his high, he doesn’t relent- his thrusts get sloppy, but they still hold the heaviness to them. It’s like he’s making sure that when he spills into you is going to be too buried inside of you to even leak out.

Past the twitching and calling of your name, he lets his cock warm inside of you, pulling out with a groan as if leaving you is too painful to even do. He lays beside you, his cock twitching against his thigh, leaking a thick cream that can barely be distinguished from his own skin. He takes heavy breaths, fingers dancing over the bedsheets in an attempt to calm down. 

You turn over, resting your hand over his. the middle of your thighs feel wet, and sticky. It leaks down and leaves a trail of warmth. His spots are smaller, back to his regular size, and while they move, they aren’t as erratic as they were before.

“That was good,” you tell him. “Fuckin’ good.”

“Mhm,” he agrees with a high-pitched voice. “Really good,” he agrees in a breathless voice. “Think we can go again?”

[poedays]

Darlin used to not get healed as a kid because their parents believed they should ‘know the consequences of their actions’ because of their reckless attitude.

So, when Sam healed them for that first time they felt like they lost. Lost what? They didn’t know exactly. They just felt a general feeling of unfairly losing to a game they didn’t want to be in anymore.

Maybe it was losing their nerve - losing that desperate pattern of jumping back into danger despite already bleeding beforehand. Maybe they’d lost the familiar feeling of pain in every day moments. They lost the feeling like they were earning their survival like everybody else.

So, they keep the jacket covered in blood. Because it reminds them of what they lost. Gone were the threats of stitches bursting, gone were the days of tasting blood when they coughed, gone were the reminders that they had lived without truly trying to live at all.

So, the jacket. A small reminder remaining. A memory of losing something, but also a memory of being set free.