#700 celebration !!

[butchkaramazov]

GooD Old fashioned Loverboy with raghveer unsing 'their breath hitching whenever the other gets a little closer' prompt please?

A/N: ask and you shall receive, my princess, meri nafz. i got a little bit carried away with this and it could’ve developed into full-blown smut had i not controlled my hand. enjoy <3

It was nearly midnight. One more minute and Ranveer knew he’d feel that familiar buzz of his mother calling him. He slumped into the sofa, exhaling through his nose. “We need to work on that, Raghav. Chalo, one more time.”

Raghav grimaced. “I genuinely can’t do this anymore.”

“Nonsense,” Ranveer said. “I’ve seen you dance, dude. You can do anything.”

Raghav glanced at Ranveer, trying to pick apart whatever he had just said. Since when did Ranveer turn so soft? He couldn’t help but notice a gentleness in his eyes whenever he looked at him—or, again, that softness could be entirely hallucinated—he tended to imagine all sorts of things when it came to Ranveer.

Ranveer heaved himself off the couch, feigning a look of mock disapproval. “Tu ruk jaa. First see how I do it.”

Raghav was only too glad to relax his stretched arms, choosing instead to see exactly how Ranveer proposed to help him. That pompous bastard. The most annoying of the lot, with his face so beautiful it made Raghav feel stupid, those lips stretched in a perfect Cupid’s bow, those upturned eyes lined with tiny freckles—

So very annoying.

“Dekh—” Ranveer’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts—“hold your arm out at an angle, like this, with the mudra like this.”

“Aise?” Raghav asked, copying Ranveer’s movements. He stretched his arm out, perpendicular to the surface of the wall, his fingers instinctively forming a random mudra.

Ranveer grimaced. “Uffo, don’t be so stiff—what’s up with you today?”

Raghav swallowed. 

Ranveer massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Chal thik hai, hota hai. I’ll help.”

“You’ve already helped me enough by showing me all the steps, how else—”

His mouth snapped shut as Ranveer’s arms wrapped around his slight frame, one of his hands stretching alongside Raghav’s outstretched arm, bending slightly at the elbow to gently lift his wrist. So that’s how he’d help. “Oho, look how tensed up you are. There we go.”

Raghav felt his breath hitch in his throat. He nodded slowly, feeling his arms relax into Ranveer’s hold, his back pressed against his chest—their bodies fitting together exactly at the right angles. 

“That’s better,” Ranveer murmured, his warm breath brushing against Raghav’s earlobe. 

Raghav’s lips parted instinctively at the feel of Ranveer’s thigh pressing against his waist. He was so close—so, so close. He could turn around and smash his lips into his. He could break free of his grasp and run out of the room. He could guide his hands to where he needed them the most. He could turn around and yell at him for overstepping his personal boundaries. He could press against Ranveer’s body and slowly grind against his thigh. He could turn around and cup his face in his hands and cry and tell him that he wasn’t the most annoying boy in the world, he was Raghav’s most annoying boy in the world. He could tell him—he could show him, in that moment itself, that he was his, that he had made him his without even trying to, that he had never fallen as hard for anyone else, that looking at him made him feel like all the stars in the universe could come crashing down and yet none would be brighter than Ranveer. 

In that moment, with Ranveer’s cheeks against his shoulders, his muscles tightening as he guided Raghav’s hands against his own, Raghav decided he would be ruined by him.

“Haan, there we go,” Ranveer exhaled softly against the nape of Raghav’s neck. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I told you you’re an amazing dancer.”

“Ranveer, I—”

“Ruk jaa, ek second, Maa is calling,” Ranveer said, pulling away. Raghav felt his knees buckle. He grabbed onto the armrest of the couch to steady himself.

Ranveer sent a curious glance his way, a look that made it seem like he was almost concerned, before he looked at his phone once again and forgot entirely about Raghav’s existence. “Haan, Maa, I’m coming home in five minutes. Don’t worry, Maa, it’s only twelve, I’ll be home before you know it.”

Raghav looked at Ranveer, his dark skin glowing in the lights of the green room, sweat glistening through the thin silk of his shirt. He could feel his rib tighten, a flower grow in the pit of his stomach. 

He really needed to get over how touch-deprived he was.

summoning the entire doyh fandom: @orgasming-caterpillar @kittensandforeheadkisses @browngurl99 @ad15124 @amrut-ofthegods @maraudersbitchesassemble @vellhighbandi @lilacwitch011019 @sinistergooseberries @desi-yearning @just-call-me-singh @rudolphsboyfriend @shanti-ashant-hai @anarcho-boykisserism

[natti-ice]

Hi! Congrats on 700 followers. You are so talented 💜

I would like to request #1 "You're a lot more flexible than I thought." from the smut list with Eddie please

Hope you have a great day!

Thank you so much!!

18+ mdni

Eddie’s hands gripped onto your ankles, holding your legs up in the air as he gives you long deep strokes. You can feel your pussy clenching his cock tighter with each pump, your moans escape your mouth with ease. He chuckles softly as he watches your face contort in pleasure, he slowly starts to spread your legs even wider and starts to increase his speed. “Good girl… let’s see how far you can go” without waiting for a response he pushes your legs back even further, you whimper softly in pain but he’s fucking you so good you don’t wanna stop. “Fuck, you’re a lot more flexible than I thought.” His grip on your ankles tightens as he continues to pound into you harder.

Join my 700 celebration!

[bambrinaa]

PLEASE WELCOME...PROFESSOR!RAFE💐

INTRODUCTION ᡴꪫ‎

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who was quite often grumpy, walking into class with a cup of stale cafeteria coffee, a deep frown set on his face.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who had a bad day everyday. that was until you started auditing his class. a pretty lil' student who was interested in the literature he was teaching. of course, he didn't completely lighten up. but he was intrigued.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe spent a few months of watching you in class, seeing you blush and get giddy whenever he praises your correct answers and brilliant questions, he called you back to stay after class for catch up work. which is when he pinned you between him and his desk, hand on the nape of your neck as he kissed you — whispering about how long he's been wanting to do this.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who, from then onwards, was fucking you every chance he got. teachers lounge during class hours, after class, in the library in the dusty aisle no one ventures to.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will sit you in his lap as he grades your paper, lecturing you for every bad thing you did. "I mean, what type of grammar is this? do you even pay attention during my classes or are you too busy thinkin' about my dick?"

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who on a good day he'll let you cockwarm him as he grades papers, immediately failing anybody with a name he recognises from the times you've cried about how they were so mean to you.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who has a soft spot for you, and only you. it shouldn't be noticeable, but people certainly saw it. he was less bossy, less rude. he gave you extensions.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will take it upon himself to spank you when you have the audacity to turn in something so, so bad, that it genuinely makes him mad. "the fuck were you thinking? did you proof-read at all?!"

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who takes time to tutor you after his spankings. starting by making you write a two page essay on something, knelt under his desk with his face buried between your thighs. everytime your eyes flutter away from your laptop screen, he pulls away from your dripping pussy to scold you.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who does genuine tutoring with you too, wanting you to actually get better so you don't fail his class.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who, before your history class begins, walks into the classroom to leave a single rose on your desk. he's a lover at heart.

ᨳິ‎english literature!professor who uses his profession to his advantage, leaving little love notes in your bag, desk, jacket, anywhere you'll find them, and others won't.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who signs off all notes with a very, very indecipherable '- R.C' with a sloppy, uneven heart next to it.

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who will messily kiss you against the door of his classroom, two minutes until his class begins. the second he hears the chatter from the hall grow closer, he shoves you off, wiping your lips with his thumb to get rid of your messy, smudged lipstick. he then gently pushes you towards your seat, sitting at his desk and prepping for his lecture. he then throws you glances all the way through it, making sure not to stand face forward for too long so his other, suspecting students don't see how hard he is through his slacks.

ᨳິ‎possessive!professor!rafe who leaves marks all over your neck and your thighs constantly, for people to see out of your low cut blouses and plaited skirts.

ᨳິ‎overprotective!professor!rafe who has to bite his tongue to resist the urge to saunter up to any man who had the audacity to talk to you.

ᨳິ‎jealous!professor!rafe who pounds you from the back in his office, your chest on the smooth wood of his desk. his hand reaching forwards, pulling you up to his chest by your hair. "you think some fuckin' fratboy can fuck you like I can? hm? answer me."

ᨳິ‎professor!rafe who is actually a complete sweetheart, on the inside, very, very deep down.

                                                

                                                 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

© WEBDOLLZZ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congratulations on your follower milestone!! You deserve all of them and more! I'm sorry it took me so long to send in a request! If it's too late, I totally understand.

I will request something with Hunter (Star Wars) and the quote: "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you."

I hate to be picky, but I've been so emotional lately, maybe I could ask that it not be a sad one? There can be angst, as long as it's not a sad ending? If that doesn't work out, let me know!

Thank you!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

@clonethirstingisreal I'm so sorry you've been emotional lately. So I've tried to write something with a bit of angst but a whole lot of fluff. So I hope you like it.

Sending you a big squishy hug.

Love oo.

I'm That Somebody

Warning: Tease, fluff, slight angst, self-doubt, questioning the other person's love, tenderness, kissing, hugs. I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Hunter sat in front of the comm station of your ship, smiling to himself, his eyes closed as he swung the chair back and forth slightly with his foot. Enjoying the simple peace of a supply run. No bounty hunters. No Hemlock. No Empire. Just a simple supply run.

You smirked as you saw him in his element.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“Just enjoying the restful trip.”

“More like you’re enjoying the quiet, since Wrecker, Omega, and Crosshair all decided to stay behind.”

He opened one of his eyes slightly, taking your wrist in his hand as he pulled you close, getting you to sit on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist holding you tight against him. 

“I’m enjoying being alone with you.”

“That’s because you’re a sucker.”

“No, that’s because I love you.” Hunter pressed his nose into your hair, smiling as he felt your hand gently rub his bicep, while your head gently rested on his.

You let out a huff, not quite believing him.

“What’s that for?” He asked, pulling back to look at you.

“What’s what for?”

“That scoff.”

A deep sigh escaped you, “I … I know you love me. I know.” You nodded softly, “But until when?”

“Until when what?”

“Until when are you going to love me?”

He looked at you confused and slightly hurt, “Wait.” He shifted you, so he could get a proper look at your face, “Do you think I’m going to get tired of you or something?”

“Aren’t you? I mean …” you closed your eyes, trying to tell your mouth to shut up, trying to get it to stop vomiting all your insecurities out into the open, “Let’s face it sweetie, I am not easy to deal with. I have insecurities. Issues. Anxieties…”

“And?” Hunter cut you off, “And that’s supposed to make me have a timer on my love.”

You opened your eyes, focusing on the floor of your shuttle, “Everyone else has.”

He let out a quiet sigh, “Do I look like everyone else?”

“No.”

“Do I look like I give in or call it quits like some weak civvie?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why would I ever give up on you?”

Your eyes slowly shifted from the floor to look into his eyes, he looked hurt and vulnerable. It hit you how much you had hurt him, but your own insecurity, “I’m sorry… I … it’s not you…”

He gently pressed a finger to your lips, he could see how much your own mind was about to start spiralling and that’s the last thing he wanted. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, pulling you closer.

“Cyare, please listen,” he spoke into your ear, as his nose brushed against your hair, "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you. And I'm that somebody. I love you because of you. You can be the most annoying person and I’ll still love you. You can be ruthless and cold, and I’ll still love you. You can balloon up to a 1000 pounds, and I’ll still love you. I love you because you are funny, sweet, kind, a little neurotic,” he chuckled lightly, “a little crazy, but it all combines into this amazing person that I get to hold in my arms. I love you because you look at me like I matter. I love you because you don’t look down at me just because I’m a clone. You look at me, like I exist.” 

He pulled back tilting your head slightly so he could kiss your neck, “I love you,” he pressed another kiss, “because you taste like my favourite fruit. I love you, because when you’re in my arms, I feel complete. That won’t change in two years, five years, 10, 20, until my last dying breath, how I feel about you will never change.” He pressed another kiss just behind your ear, pulling back to look at you. “So please don’t lose faith in me or think I’m like any of those other pieces of garbage that aren’t worthy of your love.”

As his hand cupped your cheek, you held it against you, leaning into his warmth as you closed your eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …”

“I know.”

“I love you. I love you so much, I wonder if I’m deserving of your love.”

“You are,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek and jawline, “you are more than deserving of my love. I’ll remind you every day, every hour, every minute if you need me to.”

You wrap your arms around him, feeling his heartbeat against your chest, as the warmth from his body starts to settle against you, making you feel safe and protected. Hunter doesn’t hesitate as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. 

“I’m never letting you go, cyare. Never.”

“Promise?”

“Till every star burns out.”

You let out a soft wet chuckle, as the tears you’d been fighting and holding back started to emerge, “Good, because I’m never letting you go.”

Hunter smiled as he pressed another kiss to your neck, “I like it when you’re possessive,” he chuckled, “I love you. Don’t forget that. Ever. I’ll always be here for you.”

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Tag List:

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[pascalsbby]

Hot Single Dad of The Neighborhood

Summary: It used to be benzos to take off the sharp pain of the day, this life- now it’s Joel fucking Miller.

Warnings: mdni, 18+, eventual smut (c’mon…wouldn’t be a celebration without it)

This is satire. Kinda. It’s me laughing at myself & my love for this fictional man. But you’re laughing along, because you get it. Let me know what you think!!

This is a part of my 700 follower’s celebration. Read the detailed description here 🩷

It all started with this:

Let me set the scene:

It’s 9:45pm on a Friday, and this is better than having the house to yourself. This is the time of week where we tuck our children (and husbands) in, and we gather around this shitty glass table as the tales are whispered through. It starts off with your usual: sugar-salted peach margaritas turned to two, a joint, and then the riveting conversation of, “now who would leave that dick?”

We call ourselves ‘Joel Miller’s Neighborhood Wives’. It’s a mouthful. But we like a mouthful. So- sit down, have a smoke, a wee little drink, and listen to the goss.

The neighborhood wives (Kat, Kali, Chloe on the right of you, Kit, Vic, Bug & Angela to the left) are all cuddled around Kat’s patio, enacting a dramatic retelling of ‘who the fuck is Joel Miller?’ Himself, somewhere across the street, wondering why every now and then he hears a chorus of squeals. Then, he smiles to himself and wishes he had the guts to grace y’all with his presence. He’s not invited though.

This is the first time you’ve hung out with them, and maybe the last, tbh. No way this Miller guy is worth all this fuss.

And, action.

It used to be benzos to take off the sharp pain of the day, this life- now it’s Joel fucking Miller. We take whatever we can get from him, between when we hear his truck two streets over, lightly running across the hollow wooden floors to put on our slippers. The low growl from his truck pipes (or yours) grows louder as he turns the corner onto the street. We watch as he drops out of the truck and thuds against the concrete, slamming that damn door closed. Probably how he lets all his ladies know he’s home. Our eyes follow his form, tapping all the way up to his front door before he takes those goddamn cowboy boots off. We stumble out of the front door and check the mail. Well, only for the third time that morning. What? We are all always expecting something, alright? You catch what you can before his shoulders disappear through the blue-chipped front door, right back into his house. We close the mailboxes simultaneously and sadly drip back to our front doors. No hello’s today.

Sometimes later in the night before supper, you’ll see the door shaped hole widen in the darkness, warmth boasting from behind as Joel’s form takes up the light, smiling as he pats Tommy on his way inside. Tommy usually drinks too much and stays the night, so we sit back and tend to the family. We ride our delusions in the meantime. Then, the cycle continues. It’s like… the cycle of life. You know?

He seems like your typical gentleman, Joel. A Southern-raised man, one who would let you be his nuclear-family sweetheart. Cook for him, clean for him, spread *it open for him, let his massive fucking hands feel any part of you they wanted. Especially if that meant they were to explore more under the stiff shirtwaist dresses. Or in. We would all rather him in.

Spread, what, exactly? Oh yeah dude, sorry. I meant: *Cunt, asshole, any part of you he wanted to look down the middle of and split open, really. We aren’t shy about it when it comes to talking to each other. Obviously.

The aforementioned Tommy?

That’s his brother, probably about seven or eight years younger. He is a beau too, but he doesn’t seem the type to really fuck it out of ya. I mean sure, he has done his fair share of fucking around with the moms’ of the neighborhood, too. Bug even whispered a tale of Tommy going after those mom’s college daughters, swooping in to help clean the pool before setting them gently on the concrete and swiping their panties to the side as he buried his face in them. He always made sure they were at least 22. This is only moments after the pretty younger girls make their way back into the pretty, white iron gates afront their parents' houses.

Fair enough, he has the same curls wrapping down the base of his neck, kissing the skin beneath them. He has the ‘Miller Smirk’ - what the town wives call it. The Miller brothers are known throughout the neighborhood for their distinct brand of charm. Both possess an effortless charisma that begs you to get on your knees. But they never let us. Sad. Their shared features aren’t few, but none are as similar and charming as their half-smiles. Grins always slightly tilted, as if they were sharing an inside joke with each other but not the rest of the world.

So of course Tommy is desired to an extent, physically, of course. Emotionally? Probably not. But shit, you’d have both if you could. Paris looks great this time of year. Anyways.

He wasn’t the Miller we all grappled over and wanted so deeply, despite a metal band around our fingers (or not). His competency and willingness. They way he looks at his daughter. Oh yeah…girl dad. The way he looks in the Texas heat. His back, flexed and sweating through his too-tight shirt. “The day that man wears a white shirt and it’s over 90 degrees- I will drop fucking dead. Someone take care of the kid for me,” Kat.

There’s been one story about Joel that is retold over and over like it’s fuckin’ Genesis Chapter 3, creation and all. The story on how, why, we all got here to begin with. No one can agree who first told it. Angela or Bug, shit…was it Chloe? Okay, okay, it really doesn’t matter at the moment. Just listen.

It was late August, three years ago. Hot and dripping with the dead-end heat of summer. Almost as if it was giving all it could before the last of it sputtered out and away, knowing Fall was right around the corner to take its place- happy to finally have a rest. A for sale sign that had been smiling at you for months was suddenly gone, the dirt still fresh from where it had been happily ripped. Joel Miller, Mr. Texas cowboy himself showed up one day as the crickets started singing, he kissed the cicadas goodbye for the season, unloaded the Miller Construction van and then he never left. A few weeks later after he and his brother fixed up the place, a little girl was running up the concrete to the front door. But there was no wife.

When he moved into the neighborhood, a new era dawned. It was one where the wives would rather mow the lawn, take the trash cans out on Wednesday nights, and tend to the long-forgotten garden. No really, all of our gardens are pristine now. Because somewhere not too far away there was a beautiful, muscular man with a mustache you wanted to wet, and God, his nose. A nose that was prominent even a few houses down, sun setting behind as it sat there strong and just uh- you knew a nose like that would be tickling your clit while he used his tongue other places. Or the other way around, whichever way you were sitting. Whatever way he wanted you to sit.

It was something about that deep navy cotton shirt his chest and shoulders grace about once or twice a week. The other is some form of a Lakers’ tee, yellow or purple, love-worn but scrunched up and stretched in the right places. You’ll see. Maybe that in itself, how it wraps around his sun-bathed/loved/kissed skin is the reason for everyone’s fever induced fluster. Maybe it’s the drawl, and the fact he absolutely drips of sex.

Most interactions end with deep breaths leaning against the door, knocking on your chest. Or texting the group message (we’ll add you in a minute, it’s called JMW)((Joel Miller’s Whores)). He always has something to say, something to coo at you while you in turn try not to purr back… at least with your mouth. Although no, because you would purr around him with your mouth if he’d only ask for it.

But you? Metaphorically, denoting us all. No, he would never look down upon you, between his eyelashes and brooding smile, dark, tanned skin smelling of the day- “want you to pull the pretty dress up and get on your knees. I’m tired from the day, workin’ so hard for this family. Leas’ you could do is suck my cock, no?” And he didn’t know it, but he was right. He did work so hard for this family. He was your maladaptive daydreaming, he’s what you giggle at during fake conversations, he was the cock slipping between your hungry folds at night.

Instead, it was half-baked smiles and short waves in the drop off line in the morning. He walks Sarah in, every single day. She’s getting to the age where she seems like she’d deter the sweet action, but she doesn’t- she loves him that much. We never see him in the afternoon, his barely-present wife (he has to have a wife, right? Like Bug says, “I mean look at him”), was probably the one picking up Sarah. Probably taking her to some even bigger house on the richer side of town because it's her turn to watch her. How the hell could you leave someone like Joel?

But regardless, we never see her. Never have the entire time we’ve peeked out of our blinds, running to turn off the lamp so no one can see the strip of light coming from the window.

He has never brought a woman inside of that house, let alone has anyone left it. Once, Tommy brought a girl to their Thanksgiving dinner and Vic told Kit she had come alone, first, and hugged Joel. That “Joel was extra smiley to her.” Moral of the story, we don’t know for sure if he’s still married or he’s just somehow keeping that dick to himself.

Jesus, Kat retold that story for three fucking weeks. But, we don’t really blame her. It was how it all began.

Don’t get me wrong, Joel Miller is available- if that pesky little wasp hive directly atop your living room window is getting out of hand, and you just happen to be a single mom who so desperately needs a man’s touch. Not like that. Well, yeah like that. Then, you could count on Joel Miller to back up his old blue truck bed into your driveway, set up his ladder, and allow you to spend the next hour watching through the window as his shirt pulls up his stomach as he does his diligent work.

His v-lines kissed by veins and tufted black hair towards his middle, peeking up and saying hello every time his jeans got a little too low. Musta forgot his usual belt. Or maybe his work belt was a tad too heavy today. Uh, to take that pressure off of his back for him, and into your hands.

-

But him owing you? That’s a different kind of available. It was a week later, the morning before the mom gathering, and you had only seen Joel once. Yes… peaking through your blinds. Then you heard his voice.

“Hi ma’am,” he waved, turning your attention from where you were setting your bags in the car. “Sarah, ask the pretty lady what you wanted, don’t make her wait any longer in this heat.” He was loading his work tools into the bed of his pickup. Another bed of his you’d like to grace.

Shit. Maybe this Miller was worth the fuss.

-

Part 2 later this week babes <3 It will be an actual fic, hehe.

@justagalwhowrites @cool-iguana @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @netherfeildren @chloeangelic

[spiderfunkz]

silk duvets ─── send me a scenario / blurb / au + a character and i'll make a moodboard out of it! ( ex. baker!reader x coffee shop owner!natasha • going on afternoon walks with carol danvers ). also includes short headcanons.

AFTER WATCHING THE MARVELS I'VE BEEN DREAMING ABOUT SPENDING COZY NIGHTS IN THE SPACE SHIP WITH CAROL OMGGG <3

AAA i am a carol defender 4 life.

— cozy nights in the spaceship w/ carol.

🚀 cuddling. keeping eachother warm under the mountains of blankets. playing boardgames. matching socks. intertwining hands. forehead kisses. being eachothers company. borrowing her jackets & sweaters. admiring the starry skies in space. playing with goose.

[pjotwitter]

get to know me post!

name: jina

age: 19 y/o

pronouns: she/any (idm any pronoun, i primarily just say she/her though 😭😭)

occupation: university student

facts about me:

i'm loudly and proudly bisexual!

also loudly and proudly neurodivergent (ADHD)

currently a UK resident as an international student

i'm born MENA but ethnically central Asian

sillier facts about me:

i'm a STEM student ☝️🤓

i started reading PJO when i was 11. been 8 years of percy jackson reading!

if i were a demigod i would definitely be an apollo child (maybe maybe poseidon. probably apollo though)

i'm an ENFP #annoying(jk)

even sillier facts about me:

top five characters i relate to are mabel pines, percy jackson, callum (the dragon prince), jake peralta, and glimmer (she-ra)

top five characters i love are probably leo valdez, ekko (arcane), jake peralta, mabel pines, and rayla (the dragon prince)

favourite artists include mitski, banshee, tyler the creator, chappell roan, wallice, mitchy, billie eillish, olivia rodrigo, liana flores, hands off gretel, and marina

that's all i can think of for now! if y'all would like to know more feel free to ask questions in the asks :3

[mossy-paws]

600 followers! (What is UP with you guys + small announcement in tags!)

WOW. OKAY THAT IS INSANE. Well guys, holy shit! 600 followers is absolutely fucking insane and I was not expecting to hit this milestone so quickly- I STILL do not have a singular plan for any sort of special or whatnot, but I do defintely want to thank you all a lot, this is a MASSIVE milestone and I’m so happy I managed to make it :3!

for this, i think I’ll be answering all the super old asks in my askbox that I’ve been wanting to answer for months now, these will include doodle req’s too (ONLY ONES I HAVE IN MY BOX NOW. NO MORE. I HAVE LIKE 20 ALREADY LMAO ANY NEW ONES WILL BE IGNORED LOLLLL) + I’m making a little fun low effort comic already so I’ll be working on that too for this occasion :3! I think people will like it a lot, it’s a chainsaw man x Ultrakill shitpost comic that’s ENTIRELY self-indulgent because I got the idea and couldn’t get it out of my head.

that plus I have some gifts coming up, (@sillymeowiixx you better watch your fucking back I am going to SPOIL you /vsilly) + I also have some cosplay stuff that’s gonna be worked on very very soon! Just be sure to keep an eye out for it all :3!

[krirebr]

Congrats again on your well deserved milestone, lovely! 🥳❤️

If it sparks the muse, I would LOVE a drabble of WAM!Steve and Cole. I was so intrigued by their first part and how you wrote their dynamic and how Steve was a low key motherhen. I’d love to see more of him teaching Cole how to vampire!! Thank you! 🙏🏻

Thank you, Siri!! I so appreciate your support. 💜💜

Oh, the muse sparked hard. I wrote this one in a blink. Their dynamic is so fun for me. I hope you enjoy!

This is a few years after Steve takes Cole in.

And Gentle Persuasion

Characters: Dark!Steve Rogers, Soft!Dark Cole Turner

Warnings: blood, death, mind control, talk of humans as food, vampire stuff

We're All Monsters

“Cole.”

Cole looked up from where he was kneeling over the dead body. Steve was leaning against the door to the small cell, looking exasperated. Cole grimaced. “I don’t know how this happened,” he said.

Steve sighed and crouched down in front of him. “Yes, you do,” he said. “Tell me what happened this time.”

Cole stroked a finger down the now-dead young man’s cheek. “I just– I told him I loved him and wanted us to be together, you know? I wanted him to be mine. And he freaked out and I was just trying to calm him down, and maybe feed on him just a little, to show him how good it could be, but I was upset too. That he was being so unreasonable. And I guess I lost control.” He gestured to the blood that covered him and the floor of the cell.

Steve closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. When he opened his eyes again, he fixed Cole with a stern look. “So,” he said, “the same thing as last time. Why didn’t you just compel him to agree to it?”

Cole looked down, embarrassed. “I wanted it to be real.”

“Honey, we’ve talked about this. You’re still trying to hang onto your humanity, but it’s gone. You aren’t human anymore, you’re something so much better. You need to start acting like it, finally embrace it. Humans, they’re just animals. They’re food. Pets at the very most. They are here to serve us. We want something from them, we take it. Any vampire who treats them as equals has lost touch with what we are. Do you understand?”

Cole nodded. He did. Or he was trying to. Steve had been over it with him so many times. Cutter, too. Everyone here, really. But. He’d just– he’d always wanted to find the one when he’d been human and he never had. He thought maybe now that he was something more, that power was thrumming through his veins and Steve had taught him how to harness it, that he’d finally be able to find someone. But he still hadn’t. Maybe Steve was right, maybe he was looking in the wrong place.

Steve placed a gentle hand on Cole’s cheek, pulling him from his thoughts. “You know I’m only this upset because you keep doing this to menu items. We won’t have anything left to serve at the bar at this rate.”

Cole leaned into Steve’s hand. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Steve said and stood up. “Come on, I’ll have someone come clean this up.”

Cole stood up too and started to leave the cell, not looking back at the body. “Cutter’s gonna be pissed.”

Steve smiled, “Cutter’s always pissed. You leave her to me.” Cole took a few steps into the hallway before Steve stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, if it’s just a feed and a fuck you need, you come to me and I’ll get it for you. You know I’ll always take care of you.”

Cole gave him a bashful grin back. “Yeah, I know,” he said and thought for the millionth time how lucky he was that Steve had been the one to find him.

Kris's 700 Celebration

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @femefetalelevelingup @moonlightttfae @lokislady82

[nekomamiiz]

thank you all so much for 700 followers!!! this lil corner of the internet is so special to me and i'm so thankful for those of you who share it with me <3 with that being said, let me say thank you to you!

how to enter

send me an ask (on or off anon but be sure to include your age in the message somewhere 18+ only!! i do not interact with minors)

what to include in your ask

your nickname/alias (optional but helps a lil)

your favorite color (1-2)

your favorite place, season, or hobby

your character or self-ship

tell me a little bit about you and your personality

you will receive

a personalized mood board (from yours truly) for you and your fave character/self-ship as well as a short blurb that goes along with it

all event posts will be tagged as #izzy’s 700 follower celebration

celebration live and open from now until sunday 11/17 @ 11:59pm PST

i hope y’all have some fun with this and enjoy my lil creations <3

*ex. under the cut*

izzy x kuroo, red, the city, and billiards

with his eyes focused on the road in front of him you are free to steal as many glances his way as you please. you study the way his hand grips the wheel, the other shifting effortlessly through the gears of the transmission, and how he analyses the movements of the other vehicles. do you think he’ll get mad if you ask to pull over? that reservation will still be available when you get there, right?

[butchkaramazov]

radio ga ga!!

listening to this rn, i love this song like i love you

[natti-ice]

Congrats on the 700 followers love 🎉💗

May i have Eddie Munson x F!reader

"Our bodies fit so well together."

Followed by

"Your moans are my favourite sound."

Eeeek💗🙈

Thank you so much<33

18+ mdni

Eddie loves to be the big spoon because it makes it easier for him to slip his cock in you, he gently pulls your panties to the side and slides right into your tight hole. He groans softly as your warmth envelops his length, he grips your hip with his hand tightly and starts to fuck you slowly. “Our bodies fit so well together” he whispers in your ear causing you to let out a soft moan. He chuckles at your reaction and teasingly asks you “you like that baby? Does it feel good?”

You try to speak but can’t, the pleasure was too much to think straight and you could only respond with another moan. “Oh that’s my baby, your moans are my favorite sound” he places hot kisses up and down your neck as he continues to fuck you through the night.

Join my 700 celebration!

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Celebrate 700 followers with me!

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hi Mimi!!!!!!! So excited for your celebration!!!! Congrats on the followers!!!!!

I'm asking for my beloved Sergeant, naturally XD Here's some prompts!

"Don't sign to me in that tone."

"Do that again, and I'll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?" "Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it's worth it."

"Don't go where I can't follow...please, I need you."

@dragonrider9905 Ahhhhh! I was so excited to see your request. You always give me such awesome requests.

I really hope you like this, I left it open ended for you.

Love oo

Don't Go

Warning: Injury, bantering, bickering, blaster fire, almost getting shot, flirting, angst, I think that's it, let me know if I miss anything.

Italics - flashback

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

Hunter sat beside your cot, holding your hand, pressing your fingers to his lips. Tech was busy focusing on the scanner, and trying to understand the readout. He got up and moved to the communication station, Hunter could sense his uneasiness, Tech’s sweat doubled in the last few seconds. Something must be wrong. 

His eyes fell back on your face, it looked so different from what it usually was. Where was the smile that was always on your lips? Where was the glimmering sparkle in your eyes? He couldn’t see it with your eyelids closed. 

‘Are you sure this is the way?’ You teasingly signed to Hunter as you both climbed your way around the side of the hotel towards the Ambassador’s suite. 

Hunter focused his eyes back on your sleeping form, was that the last time he saw that sparkling smile? No. That wasn’t it. 

‘Yes, I’m sure. Focus.’ Hunter signed back exasperated and rather rudely.

You pulled your head back a little, giving him a look that said, no you didn’t, and it took all his strength not to laugh when you signed ‘Don’t sign to me in that tone.’

Was that the last time you made him laugh? It couldn’t be. That couldn’t be the last time. He reached his hand out and gently caressed your forehead and cheek, “Wake up, cyar’ika. Please.”

When did everything go wrong? Was it because Cid had given them the wrong information again? Or was it when you threw him out of the way narrowly missing the blaster fire from the stormtroopers?

Hunter landed with a thud, his back slamming into the wall, your weight falling on top of him, knocking the air of his lungs. It took him a second longer than it should’ve to gain his breath back. Both of you were returning fire, and when one stormtrooper fell, two more took its place. You were both trapped, in the Ambassador’s study, when Tech commed, saying he found a hidden elevator. Within seconds a bookcase slid to the side and the elevator opened up. 

A few minutes later, you were both on the roof of the building waiting for Tech to swing by to pick you both up. 

Hunter paced back and forth shaking his head, “You’re reckless.”

“Excuse me? I believe the appropriate response is, ‘thank you, sweetheart, for saving my life,’ not, ‘you’re reckless.’” You shifted, shaking your head, as you saw the storm troopers down below calling for reinforcements. “Tech better hurry, we don’t have much time.”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

You looked over to Hunter, “Get what?”

“You do that again, and I’ll throw you out the window.” He watched as you leaned over the edge of the building, he grabbed your arm, “Wait. What are you doing?” 

You smiled, “Just checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

He shook his head, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips, as much as he wanted to fight you, he couldn’t help but love you more, he cupped your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Probably, but it’ll be a fun ride.” You teased him, smiling against his lips.

You both pulled away when you heard the engines from the Marauder, Hunter forced you to clip on to the winch first, as soon as you were lifted off the ground, he clipped himself on to the second winch, as Wrecker started the winch. 

In a split second that Hunter replayed over and over again in his head, wishing things had been different, he saw the blaster fire, fly past him and hit you in your chest. He screamed, turning to fire on the trooper who had taken an aim at you. Both he and Wrecker fired rapidly, as Omega pulled you from the ramp. 

After that everything moved too fast and not fast enough. Wrecker picked you up like you weighed nothing and laid you on your bunk. Hunter closed the ramp and Tech entered hyperspace, faster than he had ever moved the ship. 

And now, things were what they were. 

Hunter sat there watching your chest slowly rise and lower, the oxygen mask strapped to your face helping you breathe. The bacta patch on your chest didn’t seem to be helping much, aside from slowly healing the wound. 

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he breathed in your scent. 

“Cyare, hang in there. Please, I can’t …” he cleared his throat, fighting back the warm bubble that was creeping up his throat, “Tech’s taking the ship to a medical way station that’s been abandoned since the war, he says there should be a surgery room, equipment and maybe supplies. So hang in there. Please.” 

He reached up and wiped away the tear that had escaped, he pressed his lips to your temple, “Cyare,” he whispered, “Don’t go where I can’t follow … please, I need you, baby.” 

Tears were streaming down his face, he couldn’t lose you, not when he finally found his peace. His rock. His home. 

Main Master List   |   AO3 Link | Quote Roulette

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[fullychaotichell]

Oh my gosh, thank you every 700 of you for following! :D

Can't believe it, I was keeping my eye out for 666 but missed it XD

I feel like I should do something special? But idk what, and I'm kinda in the middle of other drawings I promised, so... Hm, I'll think of something, but feel free to leave suggestions XD

Maybe I can take radioapple art requests for a day 🤔

[spiderfunkz]

silk duvets ─── send me a scenario / blurb / au + a character and i'll make a moodboard out of it! ( ex. baker!reader x coffee shop owner!natasha • going on afternoon walks with carol danvers ). also includes short headcanons.

friends to lovers with natasha?🤭

— friends to lovers with natasha.

💋 drunk confessions. words of affirmation. stolen kisses. date nights by the jazz bar. motorcycle rides. patching up her wounds. red roses. hand-written love letters before long missions. adopting a cat together. holding hands by the pinky. braiding her hair. borrowing her leather jackets. being eachothers comfort person. when you're lost in the darkness look for the light!