#Agnes tries to draw

[sebille]

Marazhai :^)

[pourablecat]

The Carpe Jugulum coven! Maiden, mother and (extremely unwilling) crone. Nanny gains all of Granny's extra wrinkles and dark circles when she's not here. Marks the first time I used a brown gel pen that does not - and this is very important - leak all over the page, and also the first time I bothered to scan my doodles instead of using my crappy laptop camera.

[impatvish]

OC

Siblings bonding time. I’ve always had this image of young Aeneas braiding Agnes’ hair while he waits for his to grow longer. He tries different styles and lengths and Agnes loves it.

After the two got ripped apart from each other Agnes keeps at least one strand of braids as a part of her hairstyle to remember her (presumed) dead brother. He doesn’t get to know it though.

[ursiday]

Tried a comic thing for fun, I wanted to draw a little exchange between Agnes and Harlow

[randomshyperson]

Heart Drawing - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Dinner with Mr. Heart takes a different turn. Or, what anyone who wasn't a synthezoid would have done at the sight of Wanda in that dress.

Warnings: (+18), purely smut, bottom!Wanda (bratty), rough smut, creampie, strap-on, fingering and oral (w rec),  Westview setting, established relationship, kinda semi-public (?), almost getting caught but Wanda keeps doing magic tricks | Words: 1.169k

A/N-> I can't believe I finally wrote this, it's a fixing of the scene from WandaVision because I always thought it was unbelievable. If Wanda prepared a romantic dinner for me, especially wearing that, there would be no dinner at all. A good Wandavision anniversary for all of us btw <3

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

-&-

Although it was one of the skills she developed first, mental control could be very difficult. Especially if Wanda was experiencing some other strong emotion, such as stress, anger, or sadness. 

Or physical exertion, like a fight with an alien or lifting machines or the like. 

Or just being so close to cumming in the middle of the kitchen.

And you, well, you weren't making it any easier for her. Your hips never faltered in their brutal rhythm against her and every time the fake cock attached to your waist slid between her tight walls, Wanda had the impression that even the magic around the house was failing. 

Her eyes were still red, though - Wanda is still surprised that she has any control when you slide your fingers down to tug at her neglected clit and she's forced to muffle her whimper with a bite on your shoulder.

She's sure she won't be able to keep the two guests static in the kitchen if you keep this up. But the soft protest is little more than a choke; "S-slow down, detka" she gasps directly into your ear.

You adjust the angle, and your hips slow down, but god, you thrust hard enough for the kitchen counter to crack. The dress she called a surprise barely hanging on her body is pushed down even further with the rough motions and Wanda won't be surprised if the the magic fails her once and for all with the reach of her orgasm.

She wasn't complaining, after all, this was the whole point of the night. A misunderstanding about a heart drawn on the calendar had led her to believe that tonight would be an anniversary (of which, she and Agnes came to no conclusion, and Wanda preferred to pretend it was supposed to be a wedding one). She got chocolate fruit and a dress that made you ignore your boss in the other room and force her against the counter as soon as you caught the first glimpse of her cleavage.

Wanda tried to be the voice of reason, even if her voice was hoarse and not very determined. She asked you; "What about them?" but all you did was give her a dirty little smile as you unbuttoned your pants.

"Play your tricks, my lovely little witch." That's what you whispered before sliding into her in probably the only gentle thrust of the night, and well, we're back to the beginning.

Wanda being fucked roughly on the counter in the kitchen while trying to keep the two guests in the living room.

She doesn't know, or think she doesn't know, at least not consciously about how that toy ended up inside your pants. She doesn't think about it, nor about when your hips start to buck and how when you come first, she can feel something hot squirting inside her. She can only mew in arousal, feeling your weight fall on her as you return your movements, faster than before making it impossible for her to hold back any longer. Your mouth finds hers again, and you swallow every dirty moan she lets out as she finally reaches her climax a moment later.

The kitchen, perhaps the whole city, shakes with the force of this orgasm. Wanda doesn't notice, but you're kind of mesmerized by the whole thing. She doesn't even realize she has lost control, still panting and soft under your body but you hear footsteps approaching.

It's your powers that keep the kitchen door tightly shut, and Wanda blinks exhaustedly at the knocks.

"I'll tell them dinner's canceled." You murmur, kissing her cheek before pulling out, the act drawing a gasp from the other. Wanda forces her body to react when you make mention of moving away, her legs hooking behind your knees while she gestures in the air with her fingers glowing red.

"They'll find their way on their own." That's what she says before pressing her mouth to yours again. You smiled into the kiss, saving a mental note to comment that you'd probably lose your job for this. But those were problems for later; right now, you were focused on your darling wife moaning on your tongue.

Your kisses descended to her collarbone, marking the skin gently as Wanda struggled to breathe. Your body soon followed the lead, and you ended up on your knees on the kitchen floor with your face between her legs, taking a moment just to admire the image of Wanda's pussy leaking your mixed cum. 

Your breathing against her was driving her crazy, she moved her hips forward, one of her hands grabbing a handful of your hair and trying to pull you in, but you fought back. Wanda meowed in protest.

"Please." It didn't sound much like begging, and you raised your eyes to her. Wanda blushed heavily at the image but tried to bait you by moving her free fingers to her own pussy, spreading the wetness before sinking a finger in. She whimpered before teasing; "Come on baby, I know you want a taste."

You bite your tongue, but you can't contain the shuddering of your body and Wanda smiles at you, a finger teasing its way in. You try not to fall for it but she mewls as she pushes her finger further inside and you curse quietly before you take action. Your hand pushes hers away, and you sink your face into her pussy before Wanda can complain; she chokes on a moan, her back arching on the counter as you eat her out in hungry determination. Your hands grip her thighs wide open and Wanda struggles to control the sounds, trying to find some ground as she clutches your hair, but all it serves for is to keep your head in place as she grinds harshly against your face.

She is almost robbed of her orgasm the next moment when there is a knock at the back door. It's she who is startled, failing in her movements towards your face, but you groan in frustration at the interruption and instead of stopping the whole thing, the vibration takes Wanda over the edge, and she has to cover her mouth with her hand to avoid the sound that escapes her as the climax washes over her.

She's still trembling on the counter when you stand up, a mess of cum running down your chin that you wipe off with the back of your hand, which Wanda watches with exhausted eyes as you lick it clean a moment later.

"I'll send her away." You mutter, evidently against your will to get off her. When Wanda mentions protesting, you offer her a wink, your hands busy hiding the toy back in your pants. " We'll carry on upstairs."

She tries to stand up on shaky legs while you answer the back door to the nosy neighbor. By now, Wanda's mind is so dizzy from a good fuck that she doesn't even care if Agnes was able to hear anything.

[missnightshade]

❝ TO MEND A SOUL ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Requested: Yes! (I combined two requests into this.)

Summary: When her girlfriend starts to feel uneasy about herself and her place in their relationship, Agatha takes it into her own hands to ensure that her pretty girl is happy again.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Mentions of se!f-harm and anxiety (if this is a trigger for you, please, beware. ) Also: english is not my first language.

Word count: 861 (The next one will be bigger.)

The faint but comforting smell of lavender on her clothes were the only thing grounding the young woman's minds. As Agatha's slender fingers traveled down your scalp, the nails running against the top of your head made the dizziness subside. A shaky breath was taken and your whole body shook violently from the mental inflicted pain, taking her piercing blue eyes away from the book she settled on reading for the night.

"Something's brothering you, dear?"

The past few weeks were a plain confusion to her. After three and something years by your side, Agatha has never felt you so far away. And for someone who almost died in the hands of death herself, the situation was too unnerving. Maybe it was because she cared more about you than she cared for her own life. Maybe, the this "maybe" was a certainty, something she had few in her lifetime. She reveled in your happiness, one of the only things that made her truly enjoy life after her son's passing.

And for you, well...Agatha Harkness was no ordinary woman. You knew that coming in. Right of the bat, when she herself was only Agnes, her energywas unmatched. Sure, that version of Agatha was easier to fall in steps with your simple life. A suburban woman from Westview. And now you sat there, cuddle with the bundle of stories that the wordly Salem witch was. Agatha was exceptional in everything. In all the angles you took to merely eye at her, there was something so enlightening to see. How powerful she was. How beautifully those brown cascades would always flow behind her, framing the strong but feminine traits of her face. How those blue eyes could see miles and miles into your soul was a mystery you weren't sure you ready to dissect.

How could she settled with you was a completely unanswered question. One that gained a new depth with her present almost death experience.

You tried to hide your emotions from her, yet again, always. Shaking your head, the smile you gave was far from comfortable. Agatha moved and pulled you gently as you sat upright.

"Your lying abilities have gotten worse." the playfulness was there, but the attention she gave was heartbreaking. "Tell me, pretty girl. What is going on inside this precious mind of yours."

You gaped, words not coming out. The anxiety sunk in, heart hamming against your chest, vibrating in your head. The breath was short, and your lungs ached for more. Her hands rested upon yours, her nails grasping against your skin. Looking at her, you saw her eyes glued to your arms. Your long nails, mindlessly, maimed yourself as deeply as they could. There, along your veins, she recognized the faint lines from your past. Hurtful ones that only she knew about. Never again you tried, not until you draw blood from them again, right in front of her.

It wasn't that bad. Blood didn't scare Agatha, but the fear and sorrow she held as her hand gently parted you from yourself was devastating.

"Talk to me, my love.", she pleaded. "Please."

"I..dont know. It's just been too much." The voice coming from you was unsure, but the blured lines of that meaning had Agatha taken aback.

"What? Whats is?" her voice was gentle, but so much deeper than you've ever heard it.

"I...you. Not you but...me, to you."

As she heard your voice, shattered with a hint of stagnant cries, she held your face between her hands.

"Sweetie, breathe. Let it go. I'm right here to catch you." all the sweetness no one could have from her came crashing down.

"You...how can you be with me, Aggy?" She eyed you intently, thumb catching the first tears as they fell. "You're all - all everyone would ever want. And i'm just...me. Plain. Boring. "

The witch scoffed with a tearful laugh, as if you had the most idiot breakdown. But there was no judgment as she tugged you closer by the sleeves of her own shirt you were wearing.

"Oh, dear. You have no idea how amazing you are and how happy you make me. Y/N/N, look around. I'm building a life with you. After centuries of running, and ploting, scheming. This peace of mind...no one could ever give me that. No one could love me like you do."

The hiccups coming from your mouth made her eyes lock to yours.

"My pretty, pretty girl." her voice traced, full of love. "I love you. Remember, dear, that I've been around for ages. I've seen men rise and fall. I've met my share of people. Yet, I chose you. Y/N, I am choosing you at this moment. Everyday."

The weight of her words paired with how strong her gaze upon yourself was made you crumble. Your body gave into the pain as you were pulled into her. Almost straddling her lap, Agatha's warm embrace grounded you yet again. There were too many sorry you wanted to say, but as she shushed you into a lullaby meant only for your ears, the pieces were mended together. But as you lowered your face into her soft hair, her voice echoed against your left ear.

"Don't ever be afraid of telling me if something is bothering you. I'm yours and you're mine, my love." A soft kiss landed on your neck, lovingly. "You are safe."

[agatharkn3ss]

Black Heart (spoilers)

I love the reveal that Teen/Billy/William is the "black heart" name. It just makes SO MUCH SENSE.

There are so many consequences of that, I'm only starting to process this, but here are my initial musings.

The Coven List

For one, Lilia drawing black heart on the list was finally explained - it was not because she ran out of time or anything - it was because she literally didn't know the name as her own sigil redacted it.

I expect this is Lilia sending the list of names from the future, after the sigil is broken, but the past Lilia could not decipher it because the sigil was still in place in her time.

But I wonder if they will ever explain how the coven names were actually put together in the first place? Is it somehow influenced by the fact that when Lilia first saw Billy Kaplan's hand, she might have seen every witch he came across in the near future and so that's what she concluded the coven shall be?

Will we see the reason why Lilia put the sigil on him? Because just hiding him from Agatha doesn't make sense, since she clocked him straight away. I thought it could be to protect his identity from Salem Seven (who hated Scarlet Witch as the Harbinger of Chaos)? But the sigil is destroyed now, so would it make sense?

So maybe he needs protection from Death? Maybe not now, but at the time of the accident? The sigil was the one thing that HELPED Billy Maximoff enter Kaplan's body because it had no known identity? And that's why Death couldn't find him to reap the soul/body in time?

2. Summoning the Road

He wasn't in the basement during the summoning and he didn't sing though. He was very much preoccupied with Salem Seven. We could presume that just his proximity caused that "magical spark" that Agatha spoke about... But then in one of the promos, there is a scene where we see Billy alone standing inside the blue pentacle. I am very intrigued by when exactly this happens - if in the past, then my theory is that his first Road attempt was what triggered Agnes' O'Connor persona. But if it happens in the future from now, then maybe this is him realising he needs to add his element to the summoning moment and send it in time. Though this seems quite a convoluted way. Maybe, if this is a future scene, this is instead him trying to open the door to exit Road. OR even - he managed to get out of the Road but Agatha is still trapped in there so he summons the gate for her to get out?

3. Is he aware?

Did Billy know he was the Black Heart? Lilia finally tells them the fourth "name" in Agatha's living room. But did he catch it? We never see his reaction when Lilia says it was a black heart. But Billy knew his abilities and must have thought of himself as a witch and not a familiar. Could a familiar even get any "prize" from the Road if only the witches were tested? He always seemed to hate whenever the witches referred to him as pet or familiar. He also wears this black stud in his ear, which is more of a triangle, but could be interpreted as black heart and that's why Eddie calls him that - so it must be a known nickname to Billy.

Because if he knew, then he purposely let Agatha bring Sharon into this, knowing it wasn't right. Would the sigil prevent him from telling them it was him? Would he even care at this point or tried to interfere with Sharon's mind? But then again, I don't think he's nowhere near as quick-witted as Agatha, so perhaps he didn't know to start with.

Sidenote: it would be interesting to see how well he can read other witches' minds. It seems to happen when other people are stressed. And not just the people he cares about, because he was able to read Ralph too. I don't think he can read Agatha's - even Wanda wasn't able to do that. But what about others?

4. The Trials

So after all that, Billy is a full witch member of the coven and it's Sharon who's the familiar. He's not the Earth element, but his powers are so vast, that he doesn't need to be. We almost have two Spirit elements? I think we will still get "Earth" trial though, but it will be Billy's - after all it is in a morgue and Agatha has her hands on his head - trying to find Tommy? Unlock some memories?

It's interesting that the first trial depended on the size of the group. There were exactly 5 glasses around the wine and the solution to the challenge was the blood of the un-poisoned. So technically, Sharon didn't have to drink, because she wasn't meant to be tested - Billy was. The group was very adamant that the whole coven had to drink and forced Agatha to do it, but it seems that maybe she really didn't need to after all? And Billy didn't seem to experience any nightmares because of it, even though he should have.

We knew this already, but clearly Sharon wasn't at all equipped to deal with the trial. What if she was so distressed by the trial, maybe still hallucinating her Wanda nightmare, that Billy heard it in her head, felt guilty that it should've been him, and tried to help/interfere? She did have her eyes open in the end, even though when they carried her into the oven she was out of it.

Because Agatha did notice something on Sharon's body. Was it her blue eyes, somehow vaguely similar to Lilia and Jen's eyes when Billy controlled them? (Not saying Billy killed Sharon, at least not intentionally. She was probably already dying and there was nothing anyone could do and so he eased her pain?)

5. Rio

So many questions! It does not seem coincidental that Rio specifically mentions having a black heart to Agatha. It could be entirely plausible that Rio was just being Rio and just wanted her feelings known? But what if she was intentionally misleading Agatha? Why? And how could she have already known about Billy and Lilia's list? Or could it be a play on words? Allusion to Billy as the "black heart" who seems connected to Agatha?

She wasn't at all surprised by Billy breaking in, and while he was searching for the locket, she randomly asked Agatha if she was hiding any evidence. This could be a spell somehow twisting Agatha's perception of what Rio was actually saying, but it seems like she was actually there, with Agatha, sharing the spell experience. It also seems to be confirmed that Rio wasn't actually physically there.

So what if she's somehow connected to Billy because of his "near-death" (but really, "actual death") experience. So that now death is always near him? Does she think of him as a ghost? Did the sigil prevent her from reaping Kaplan's body? So she needs to do "her job", but feels "cheated" and wants to put things back in order? It will be interesting to see what she does now, that the sigil is destroyed. She certainly seem to be interested in him on the Witches Road. It could be that it was her who threw Billy into the sound booth window in the fire episode? (it would be funny if it was because Billy was trying to access her mind and she got angry). If she's connected to Billy, what about Tommy?

Can Death traverse time? Or is she somehow just linked with Lilia, because she's Fate? (you know, the inevitable Fate is that all roads eventually lead to Death) She seems to know what Lilia was about to say about Salem Seven when she woke up in ep.5. And Lilia saw her in her nightmare vision in episode 3. With Lilia predicting all those tragedies, she must have seen her fair share of deaths.

I must admit, I love this enigma. Now that Billy's puzzle has been revealed, the Wiccan fans have had their share of fun and we can fully shift attention to theorising about Rio and building hype around her - and that's even when we 99.999999% know who she is! I also love seeing Agatha being back to her delicious character, not holding back any more. This is why I started watching in the first place, so I'm very excited for what's to come.

[flowerbloom-arts]

“It's for a comic strip I do called 'Grumble and Bumble,' Grumble likes to yell but deep down he loves Bumble like a son.”

Seymour sometimes has a creative side, whether it be accidentally plagiarizing Jurassic Park for a book he's been thinking about writing (s5 ep19) or writing a couple screenplays in the hopes of getting them to Universal Studios and winning an Oscar (s19 ep18), and likely due to a lack of an active imagination or minimal media consumption he tends to draw inspiration from his own life for his art.

The screenplays he wrote in Any Given Sundance had titles that he fairly obviously based on his life or desires - “When Edna Met Seymour” (this is 4 whole seasons after they broke up), “Ghost Willie” (Willie hates Seymour's guts like most of the school staff but how much Seymour hates him back I can't quite say, or this could be more metaphorical and Willie's hatred is manifested into a threatening ghost form), “Killing Seymour's Mother” (he's expressed a desire to kill Agnes multiple times throughout the show due to resentment and despite his seemingly unconditional love for her), and “The Principal Who Sold a Screenplay” (this is simply premature wish-fulfillment)

“Grumble and Bumble” is no different. If the designs of the characters didn't make this obvious enough, Grumble is Chalmers and Bumble is Skinner himself, and thusly he is speaking indirectly about his ideas of what his dynamic with his superintendent is by using Grumble and Bumble as an allegory. But why would Seymour believe that despite the sometimes abusive tendencies Gary treats him with, Gary loves him "like a son" deep down?

I've often thought how similar Chalmers is to Agnes in some respects, especially when it pertains to their treatment of Seymour, but to an audience they have their fairly obvious differences.

While Agnes' abuse stems from a mix of bitterness and a fear of abandonment from the only person who still loves her despite her behavior, Gary's abuse seems to stem from a deep-seated annoyance with Skinner's behavior. Chalmers doesn't like Skinner being his bootlicker, the few times Chalmers treats him with benevolence or fondness is when Skinner acts confident in himself, unburdened by Chalmers' whims over him, meanwhile Agnes actively kicks him down when he tries to stand up.

Of course, it doesn't really make a difference to Skinner, I doubt he himself sees the difference, all he knows is that they dislike him but he can sometimes win over their affection if he does... Something, anything, likely whatever they want him to do which is be obedient and successful at his tasks despite his nightmarish circumstances because that's what they yell at him to do. He can't differentiate between what Chalmers likes and what Agnes likes because he's so used to his mother and Chalmers is so close to that pattern of behavior they might as well be the same.

And just as Seymour loves Agnes, he also loves Chalmers. It doesn't particularly matter if that love is familial or platonic or even romantic on Seymour's end, really, because it all leads to the same result; that love leads to a desire to fulfill whatever harsh demand is given to him. He's a dog in that sense, and he never knows when to quit (as Bart says; "No matter how badly you get treated, you always come back for more! It's like your superpower!" - s32 ep8).

And despite everything Gary's put him through, he hopes desperately that he can achieve and continue to maintain any morsel of affection he may throw for doing a good job, just like Agnes would. He thinks the abuse hides an inherent affection Chalmers harbors for him; why else would Gary keep coming to school to see him? Why else would he seem to care about it so much? It must be similar to how his mother still keeps a roof over his head or cooks him food; she cares despite her hatred, because he is her son and there's an unconditional love there between them. Seymour knows this, and so therefore there has to be one conclusion, no matter what kind of affection Skinner feels for him:

Chalmers likes to yell but deep down he loves Skinner like a son. Just as Agnes loves him as a son.

“No he doesn't.”

— s26 ep11, Bart's New Friend

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part eighty-nine: "The Stray"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt spends his morning alone with the new cat until you return.

Or You say something to Matt that has a bigger impact on him than you even realize.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.2k

a/n: This update is also light and fluffy with its own little surprise at the end. It's also entirely in Matt's POV. Enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly

Matt hunched over his steaming mug of coffee on the kitchen table, one of his hands running along his face as he tried to wake up. He was still dressed in only his boxers, finally crawling out of bed a little after he’d heard you leave the apartment. He knew you’d woken up early, over-eager to pick up the extra odds and ends for the cat that you’d excitedly ordered last night on your phone from the pet store just two blocks over. 

It had admittedly been adorable listening to how thrilled you were just over picking out cat toys last night. A faint smile ghosted over Matt’s lips even now as he remembered the little shriek you’d made, grabbing at his arm beside you on the couch when you’d spotted sushi themed ones. Granted, Matt always thought you were adorable and found your excitement contagious. 

Drawing the mug of coffee to his lips, Matt could hear the soft patter of paws approaching him. He drank down the liquid before lowering the mug back to the table, his attention shifting to where he heard the cat sit down on the floor not too far from his chair. The soft swish of its tail back and forth was fast becoming a familiar sound around the apartment already.

"She's not here right now," Matt told the cat. "So whatever manipulative face you've been giving her to get your way since yesterday? It won't work on me. Because I can't see it."

A tiny mew met Matt’s ears, the cat's tail continuing to rhythmically move back and forth along the floor. 

"Yeah, you won," Matt told him. "Seems like you didn't belong to anyone after all those calls we made yesterday, so you get to stay here." He pointed a finger down towards the cat, his expression stern. "But don't think you get free run of this place destroying things just because she likes you so much. No scratching up the couch. Or knocking dishes off the kitchen shelves– especially the coffee mugs," he told the cat. "She's weirdly attached to a few of them. I don’t want her crying because you broke one."

Another small meow met Matt’s ears and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Pressing his lips firmly together, he fought the smile threatening to slip onto his face.

He'd never had a pet before. His father never could've afforded taking care of one when Matt was young, and there was absolutely no way he'd have ever been allowed to have one at St. Agnes, so he initially assumed having a cat roaming around the apartment would be annoying with his senses. The meows, the multiple paw pads hitting the floor as the cat walked, the incessant purring, and the irritating sound of a cat’s tongue as it groomed itself. Those were all things that immediately came to mind when you’d suggested keeping the cat after he’d rescued it from the dumpster. But surprisingly Matt had discovered he hadn't minded the cat's presence much at all–other than the litter box you'd already bought for it. Though if you or Matt cleaned it immediately, the smell wasn't that bad to him and he was quickly learning to ignore it.

This cat’s meowing wasn't actually loud and grating to his ears like he'd always imagined it would be, either. Instead, it was more of a light, sweet noise, one that he’d come to like each time he'd heard it. And the purring almost had a white noise effect just like the patter of rain on the windows. If he was being honest, he'd actually liked falling asleep with the cat at the foot of the bed last night. He'd focused in on the purring, managing to tune out not only the sounds in the apartment building, but also the noise outside in Hell’s Kitchen. Last night was the fastest Matt had ever fallen asleep since gaining his heightened senses with the sound of the purring and your steady heartbeat in his ears. 

He heard the cat rise to its feet, padding over towards his legs. A second later he felt the cat's head rub against his bare calf and the smile finally made its way onto Matt’s face. The cat's fur, after having been cleaned from his time among the garbage, was silky and smoother than he'd imagined it would be, too. He figured it would be scratchy and irritating to his sensitive skin, because generally that’s how it always felt when he'd pet cats or dogs in the past. But apparently not this cat. 

"You're annoyingly persistent, you know that?" Matt told the cat.

Reaching a hand down, Matt scratched the fur under the cat's chin. Seconds later Matt’s ears picked up on the faint rumble as gradually the still nameless cat began to purr.  Some sense of pride began to stir in Matt’s chest at the sound.

“Thought it was supposed to be hard to gain a cat’s affection,” Matt mused quietly. “Don’t blame you for loving her so easily, but I don’t know what the hell you'd want with me.”

The cat stepped closer to Matt as he spoke, rubbing his side along Matt’s shin. The cat’s tail soon curled itself around his calf, the soft hairs almost tickling Matt. The smile on his face grew just a bit wider.

“I know what you’re doing,” Matt told the cat, withdrawing his hand from the cat’s chin and sitting back in his chair. “It’s not going to work.”

Turning his attention back to his coffee, he left the cat to his own devices. He’d noticed since the both of you had brought him home that he’d often taken residence along the radiator by the window in the living room, curling up on it and watching the pigeons on the rooftop across the street. But as Matt picked his mug back up, about to drink more of his coffee, he felt two paws suddenly land on his knee.

The cup of coffee hovered just before Matt’s mouth, his hand freezing. Head tilting to the side, his brows furrowed. The cat had stretched up on his hind legs apparently, his front feet resting on Matt’s knee. He heard the air shift just a bit as one of the paws reached up, and then Matt felt a furry little paw tap the back of his hand that was holding his coffee mug. Turning his head back towards the cat, he heard another little meow again.

“What?” he asked the cat. “I know I heard her feed you and fill your water bowl already when she woke up. And she’s the one who promised to fatten you up, not me. So don’t think you can trick me into giving you more food.”

The little paw gently tapped the back of Matt’s hand again and Matt’s eyes narrowed as he focused in on the cat. Nothing seemed wrong with him–or at least, as far as he could tell. It’s not like he generally tuned into a cat’s physiology and could really tell if something was off. But the vet you’d both taken him to yesterday–who’d in fact confirmed the nameless cat was indeed a male–had said he’d seemed malnourished but otherwise healthy. And Matt couldn’t pick up on anything different from him since then.

“Do you just…want attention?” Matt asked. “Is that it?”

Of course the cat couldn’t answer, but the other place Matt knew this nameless cat had enjoyed spending time was curled up on the couch. Usually next to you or in your lap. Matt remembered the first time the cat had crawled into your lap and laid down last night. He’d been finishing up taking care of the dishes after dinner, pausing when he heard your heart speed up in your chest. At first he’d thought your pulse increasing had something to do with him–but no. It was the cat. Again. Though, the cute little giggle you’d made when the cat settled down on you was one of the best sounds he’d heard in awhile.

“Fine,” Matt relented. “I’ll sit on the couch and drink my coffee and pet you. But if you so much as scratch me with one of your nails,” he warned the cat as he rose to his feet, “I’m going to throw away all of your cat toys.”

The cat made a noise in its throat, the sound something akin to a grunt of disbelief. The unexpected noise surprised Matt, causing him to chuckle as he navigated his way to the couch, trying to keep an ear out for the cat so he didn’t step on him.

“Okay, you’re right, I won’t do that,” he admitted. “But only because of her, not you. Don’t get that mixed up. She was just…really excited about the little sushi ones. I couldn’t possibly throw them away on her.”

Matt settled down onto the couch, the leather cold and a little scratchy against his skin. With a sigh, he raised his coffee mug up to his mouth for a drink, the warmth of it a pleasant contrast to the fabric on his bare skin. He heard the cat jump up onto the couch next to him as he swallowed the liquid, the soft thump of his paws landing on the cushion next to Matt only a faint noise with how little the cat weighed. Almost instantly he curled into a ball against the side of Matt’s bare thigh, the warmth of his furry little body hard not to notice. 

Relaxing back into the cushions, Matt’s eyes closed as he enjoyed his drink and tried to mentally prepare himself for the day. The warmth of the cat at his side soon became soothing, and admittedly it was nice to not be sitting here alone drinking his morning coffee while you were gone. He focused in on the cat’s faint purring, the noise a comfortable decibel to Matt’s ears. He was so relaxed and tuned into the cat that he hadn’t even noticed you’d entered the apartment building, even managing to startle him when you’d opened the apartment door.

“I’m back, Matty!” 

Matt’s eyes opened at the sound of your voice, the cat at his side stirring as well. Turning his head towards the entryway hall, he heard the telltale sound of your heartbeat pounding its usual rhythm in his ears. A smile spread across his lips. That would always be his favorite sound. 

“You manage to get everything you needed, sweetheart?” he called out to you.

“Yeah, they had everything I ordered,” you answered, the sound of bags rustling in his ears as you set them down to take off your shoes. “But I may have also bought him this little scratching post that’s also a hammock. It is the perfect height for the bedroom window,” you continued on, Matt grinning and shaking his head at the excitement in your voice. “So he can curl up in it and watch the pigeons and the traffic comfortably in our room, you know?”

“You’re spoiling this cat, you know that, right?” he teased.

Matt heard the playful scoff you made as you began to pick up all the bags in your hands again. Soon after, he heard your footsteps continue to make their way down the entryway hall towards him.

“He was found in a dumpster , Matt,” you replied. “I think he deserves some nice things.”

Matt shifted his attention down to the cat still curled up beside him on the couch, running his hand along the cat’s fur. “Yeah, I guess trash cat deserves some nice things,” he agreed.

“Matt!” you chastised.

Matt immediately chuckled at the tone of your voice and the way it had went up a few octaves. Admittedly he kept calling the cat that just because he enjoyed the way you reacted every time he did.

“He’s not a trash cat!” you shot back.

Matt heard you placing the bags down behind the couch before you made your way around it. Though when you had, he heard how you paused and the way your heartbeat sped up. Eyes narrowing, his head canted to the side in interest. What had that been about?

“Well, he was found in garbage,” Matt continued half-heartedly, his ears listening to your body. “And I am saying it affectionately.”

“Then maybe I should start calling you a trash Devil,” you quipped, “since I found you in a dumpster.”

He couldn’t resist the peel of laughter that fell out of him, his focus on your body briefly interrupted. He heard you make your way to the couch before he felt the cushion beside him shift as you sat down.

“Unfortunately that doesn’t have as good of a ring to it as Daredevil,” Matt replied, his laughter subsiding.

“Mmm, no, I suppose not,” you agreed.

Matt focused back on you, still absently petting the cat at his side with his free hand. Your heart had returned to its usual pace now. Matt’s head tilted to the side again, curiosity winning out.

“What was with the change in your heartbeat a moment ago?” he asked. “Just before you sat down?”

“Oh,” you breathed out, nervously laughing lightly as you waved a hand. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

A mischievous grin slipped onto Matt’s face as he shook his head. “Okay, so it was definitely something then. Spill, sweetheart.”

There was a moment of silence before you answered. Matt could hear the way your nails were picking at a string on what he assumed were your shorts.You were fidgeting, something you didn’t do too often around him anymore.

“I just–just wasn’t expecting to see you sitting here practically naked with the cat,” you muttered.

Matt’s bottom lip slipped between his teeth, fighting back a smile. “You see me like this every morning, but me sitting with a cat gets your heart racing like that?” he teased.

The air shifted around you as you shrugged, your hands continuing to fidget in your lap. “I don’t know,” you muttered, your cheeks heating, “it’s just like…coming home to my little family or something now, you know? The two of you here together. Both my boys.”

The teasing smile slowly faded from Matt’s lips, his expression softening as he read the nervousness around your body increasing. A warmth stirred in Matt’s chest at your words, his heart swelling. Because you considered him and this stray cat family. Your family.

You waved a dismissive hand, laughing nervously. “Nevermind, it’s stupid,” you said.

“No,” Matt said softly, shaking his head. “It’s not stupid at all.”

He could feel a lump forming in the back of his throat, a well of emotions trying to rise to the surface. Blinking hard a few times, he tried to push it all back. He wasn’t about to get emotional about that, not right now.

“So uh,” Matt began, clearing his throat, “we should probably start to think of names for this little guy if you don’t want trash cat to stick.”

“Actually,” you said, voice a little hesitant, “I had a thought when I was picking up everything this morning from the pet store.”

“For a name?” Matt asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding. “I was thinking…what if we named him something after your dad?”

That lump seemed to abruptly thicken in the back of Matt’s throat. He swallowed a couple of times, a blurry image of his father mentally painting itself in his mind. It was getting harder to fight the tears in his eyes as he blinked them back.

“What–what do you mean?” he asked, hoping you didn’t notice the waver in his voice.

“I just meant it might be like a way to honor him?” you answered nervously. “And I–I was thinking maybe we could call him Mittens?”

Matt could feel the weight of the tears building in his eyes as his tongue nervously slipped out, wetting his lips. His hand stopped along the cat’s back, his fingers burying themselves into the cat’s comforting fur.

“Mittens?” Matt asked softly.

“Yeah,” you said. “Like boxing mitts? Since your father was such a great boxer. And, in your own way, I suppose you are, too. Though you don’t technically wear mittens out at night–but you probably should in winter time because you’re always freezing out there.”

Matt huffed out a laugh just as a single tear slipped out of his eye. Before he had a chance to discreetly try to wipe it away, you’d already noticed it. He heard the way you sucked in a breath, your back straightening on the couch beside him. And then it was your soft fingers on his cheek catching the tear, wiping it away. His eyelids lowered as he leant into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No,” Matt replied quickly. “You didn’t. I uh, I think that’s a great idea, actually.”

“You do?” you asked.

Attempting yet again to swallow that lump in his throat, Matt nodded against your hand. “Yeah, I love it,” he whispered. 

You leaned in towards him, placing a gentle kiss to his cheek where the tear had fallen. Matt’s lips curled upwards in a smile at the feel of them against his skin, so soft and warm. When you pulled away, you placed a sweet kiss to his lips next, lingering against them for a moment. Once again Matt’s heart felt like it was swelling in his chest, a whole well of emotions building within him that he was struggling to keep down.

You focused your attention down onto the cat next, your hands gently stroking the top of the cat’s head. Matt smiled when he heard the soft coo you spoke to the cat with.

“What about you?” you asked him. “Do you like Mittens?”

The resounding purr that began so soon after you’d asked the question seemed to be his response.  

“Sounds like a yes,” Matt whispered.

You giggled, still focused on petting the cat as you enthusiastically continued to chat to him, trying out the new name. Mittens seemed content with the name choice and the attention, purring even louder as he curled up further against Matt’s leg. 

But while you were currently very focused on the cat, Matt was focused on you. That warmth in his chest only seemed to grow even more as he sat there, listening to your cheerful and bright voice as you spoke. He couldn’t fight the smile that gradually returned to his face at what you’d said just a bit ago.

Family. That word meant a lot of things to Matt, but it was something he’d felt like he’d never truly had ever since he’d lost his father. Even if his mother was only a few blocks away at Clinton Church, it wasn’t quite the same thing, not with the history between him and Maggie. Foggy’s family had honestly been the closest thing Matt had ever had to a family, but he’d only met them when he was grown and in college. But still, he’d never truly felt like he’d had a family of his own, one that he belonged to.

Not until now. Because you were right, the three of you were a family.

Matt drew his coffee mug back up to his mouth, his mind suddenly and very surely made up as he took another drink. Monday he’d tell you he was working late on a case so you wouldn’t expect him home at the usual time. And then he’d finally ask Foggy to go help him pick out a ring.

[mira--image]

Here is my Future Donnie playlist, the third in the bad future series! I also have a Donnie extended playlist that's about double the length, expanding on the different plot points!

These playlists are stories meant to be listened to in order. For each, they start at the start of the apocalypse, and end when the character dies.

In his playlist, he starts off confident and capable, but slowly unravels after Raph's death. Just when we think he's found a solution and getting his second wind, tragedy strikes him too.

This is such a fun playlist that covers many genres. It's the first where I had to start incorporating fannon, because it's not shown in the movie how Donnie died. I especially like the fan theories that draw on little details from the movie or the concept art.

When I made this playlist, I had just finished reading @somerandomdudelmao 's Cass apocalyptic series, and their headcannons were my favorite at the time so I decided to go with theirs! So if you haven't read that comic yet I highly recommend it, and know that this playlist technically has spoilers for the Donnie plotline.

Anyways, song-to-song plot below!

Donnie takes the invasion in stride, and adapts easily to the violence.

Leo may lead the resistance, but Donnie built it. At first, he's more concerned about his bad-boy reputation and keeping potential enemies in line, but he's confident, capable, and invaluable. The praises of the rescued citizens definitely don't get to his head (he says confidently 👀💦).

Raph dies, and Donnie gradually comes down from his high. He tries to mourn him. And yes, including agnes and I bet my life is completely because of @tapakah0's cass animatics.

Mourning sucks. Raph is dead, but Donnie is totally fine guys!! He's just throwing himself into his work and not talking to anyone... only a little more than usual! When's the last time he didn't count coffee as a meal?

He's figured it out. Raph may be dead, but Donnie can bring him back.

Here's where the Cass apocalyptic series influence really kicks in. Donnie starts experiencing strange symptoms. Did he overwork himself too much?

By the time he realizes what's happening, it's too late. Slowly, Donnie comes to terms with and succumbs to his illness.

Enjoy!

[fiuworks]

shhh...there's an archivist sleeping by the fire....

i haven't drawn anything from my bookburning enemies to domestic lovers to tragic yuri au since summer but trust me i think about them often

i tried to make it look like agnes's version of blushing is glowing from under her wax/skin but idk how well that turned out but im so fond of the cozy energy of the piece...i want to draw more from this au so much and now that i have time i might

[sebille]

I missed him <3 @infamous-if

[klm-zoflorr]

Playing around with writing fonts relating to characters is one of my favorite things to do, I just feel like it tells you.... A lot about the character and how they were raised and what they're trying to project and if they're impatient or not take the time to trace the letters etc... So anyways, I did it for some characters in my TMA superhero AU!

Was originally trying to draw out the miraculous ladybug lovesquare shenanigans going on with some of the characters but yknow. This shall come too.

A few notes:

-I don't know who "Trickster" is, not even lying about it that's just the name of the font and I thought it was cool so putting it in the concept box

-Jane used to have very pretty careful handwriting, but then had her whole breakdown because she couldn't hold the appearances anymore and now she just doesn't really care

-Dr. David's handwriting is actually pretty neat for a doctor. Maybe because he isn't one?

-Dr Magnus/Elias' however... His true handwriting is the one at the bottom (because he's super old and stuff), the other two are when he's really making an effort to change it.

-Martin as a hero tries to project a very clean image, therefore careful properly pretty but a bit bland letters

-yeah i just gave jon a typewriter font

-Sasha's handwriting is fancy already, she just makes it neater as a superhero. Also, Sasha super name reveal! I also think Maelstrom is usually refered to with they/them. Sasha is some flavor of genderqueer and it makes them happy to switch it around for a superhero persona so like! Yay!

-Tim's handwriting is pretty neat, he's just always in a hurry as a hero so Inferno's is always rushed

-Maxwell's handwriting is very pretty. He and Manuela both have a very strong brand as supervillains too.

-Agnes uses a marker when she signs autographs

-Melanie's handwriting is messy, because she learned to write late, didn't particularly care and also did so like 200 years ago when the handwriting was different (?). She doesn't try to switch it up between superhero and civilian persona because she does not care and she's tired

-Michael's has little spirals!

[kurokawaia]

❛ Your Mine ❜ - Chapter 5

Yandere!Lan Wangji X Fem!Reader

| YANDERE + DARK CONTENT | this meaning, if you don't like this content, then just scroll away

WC; 3.9k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW : x fem reader, yandere x fem reader, yandere themes, another kidnapping lmao, lan wangji steals you agn, prone bone, overstimulation, cervix fucking, no protection, oral -> female receiving, missionary, praise, handjob, slight? begging, slight bondage with his head band thingy + more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝒫𝒯𝐸𝑅 𝒮𝒰𝑀𝑀𝒜𝑅𝒴 :: This results in Wangji kidnapping her and hiding her secretly, visiting her to only have sex. He loves her of course, but he spends time with her, not only to have sex, but to be near her. This is the softest Lan Wangji will ever be towards you. You tried to run away from him, only because you felt suffocated hiding, Jiang Cheng tried to help but failed. The second attempt you made by yourself and that soft love you were getting changed, it was only rough, dominating sex. But he accidentally confesses and you did to, which changed the mood, it wasn't rough, but just intense.

part 4 | part 5 | Part 6

Days blended into weeks, and weeks possibly months.

He loved you, or so he said, but it wasn't the love you had ever envisioned. Lan Wangji was transformed from protector to captor, possessed by a deep obsession, unable to bear the thought of letting you out of his sight. You sat on the bed and waited, knowing that he would be there soon, as he had always been. The footsteps echoed through the hidden corridor, and your heart jumped into your chest. You couldn't tell whether it was out of fear or anticipation. 

Perhaps both. The door creaked open, and Lan Wangji stepped inside, his gaze finding you right away. 

His presence overwhelmed you, as it usually did. It was the only time he ever allowed himself to be vulnerable when he came to see you. He crossed the room silently, sitting beside you on the bed. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You flinched slightly, but he didn't seem to notice perhaps he chose not to. "I missed you," he whispered, his tone all but gentle. 

His fingers traced along the outline of your cheek, his touch suddenly so delicate for a man who had grown so perilous in his obsession. You said nothing. What was there to say? You were his prisoner, tucked deep and far from the world, from your family, from Jiang Cheng-who once tried and failed to save you. That memory haunted you; that moment you tried to run, Jiang Cheng found you and tried to spirit you away from Gusu. But Lan Wangji had found you even before you managed to reach the borders of the Lan Clan's territory. The rage in his eyes had been terrifying, and the punishment that followed... 

Your body shuddered under him, causing your grip on his hands to weaken. Your hips were secured, and then his power hoisted you onto your knees as a bicep encircled your neck, lifting your head.

Your head was lifted from the futon with as you weakly propped yourself up on your elbows, the grip was not firm.

You arched your back heavily, able at last to sink further into his embrace. Lan Wangji leaned over, drawing you near to him and initiating a messy, moist kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting out grunts as he absorbed your sounds of pleasure. Lan Wangji moaned in satisfaction, praising you for taking him so deeply as he intensified the pressure on your back. He observed as your ass pressed against his lower stomach, gazing at your cunt with dark irises.

You shuddered at the thought. 

Jiang Cheng hadn't dared to try again. Lan Wangji's hand had tightened on yours, pulling you out of your thoughts. "You are mine," he whispered. "I cannot let you go. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them away. "I cannot continue to live like this," you said out loud. "You have taken everything in my life from me: my family, my freedom... I cannot breathe here." "You are safe here," he said simply, as if that was all that mattered. "I cannot lose you. "But you are losing me," you replied, voice quivering. "I feel like I'm being suffocated. You are not protecting me, Wangji-you are holding me hostage."

He pulled you closer into his arms, which folded around you, meant to be comforting, just suffocating. "I do this because I love you," he whispered softly against your ear, his warm breath dancing along your skin. "I love you more than you can possibly understand."

It's been three rounds already, in the same position, and your poor body getting folded into that position. Your back and knees were beginning to ache, but you loved how his dick trusted so perfectly up into your cunt, you see stars every time you gush around his cock.

Lan wangji lowers down to your trembling body, tingles were getting sent all throughout your body from the kiss, he was being so rough yet deep. The breath was stolen from your lungs every time he moaned into your moan, and you had the same effect on him.

"You're doing so good for me," he hums against your skin, inhaling your naturally sweet scent. "You're going to take me, sweetheart, going to take everything I give you."

You sob. "Don't think I can anymore."

He presses his lips to yours, his tongue entangling with your own and you both moan into each other's mouths. Lan wangji drags his length out, a breathless sigh emitting from your mouth into his own, relief crossing your features, thinking that the two of you were done.

But then, all of a sudden your head was thrown back in overstimulation, and a moan strung from your mouth as his cock slides right back into your cum filled walls.

You swallowed hard, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. "This isn't love," you whispered. "Love doesn't feel like this." His grip on you tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into your skin. "You are wrong," he said. "You will understand one day. Until then, I will protect you. He kissed you then, his lips possessive, claiming you in a manner that denied all avenues of escape. You were trapped in this kiss, in his arms, in this small chamber that had become your prison.

Tingles were getting sent all throughout your body from the kiss, he was being so gentle yet deep. The breath was stolen from your lungs every time he moaned into your moan, and you had the same effect on him, he was restraining himself from pouncing on to you.

The heartbeat in your pussy was so heavy, so prominent as Lan Wangji deepens the kiss per second, you were afraid that if his t high were to take place against your cunt, he would feel how needy you are, how much you need him to pleasure you.

Why do you love him?

And he did exactly what you were hoping for him to not do, and that was to shift his legs, which now, one of them was placed in between your own, pressed against your throbbing heat. A hopeless moan falls past your lips and Lan Wangji smirks into the kiss.

"I can feel you," he groans agasint your mouth.

In response, you drag one of your hands down his chest, slowly, feeling every ridge of his chest and abs, of course, Lan Wangji moans heavily into your mouth. He loved how you touched his body despite the scars that were littered over his pale skin.

Your hand dragged across his happy trail, and you could feel his abs flexing agasint your arm before you teased the tip of his erect cock, a moan emitting loudly from him.

Pulling his lips from yours before diving into your neck, kissing and sucking your flesh while you slowly pumped his cock, smearing the precum around his tip before moving your hand down his length once more.

His kisses moved lower, and lower until he was no longer in reach of your hand to his dick and you huffed in disappointment. However, your disappointment vanished when your eyes widened in pleasure when he pried your thighs open wider and gave sucks to your inner thighs before kissing closer to your cunt.

A kiss to your clit was all that was needed for your hands to entangle with Lan Wangji's hair. " Lan Wangji!" you moan, thighs immediately tightening around his head, your legs over his shoulders.

A moan vibrates from Lan Wangji's mouth, straight into your clit and a whine emits from your lips. "P-Please," you beg quietly. "M-More."

"Mmmmm," he hums against your clit as he moved his mouth from your entrance, the vibrations causing you to gasp out in pleasure.

Arching your back, your cunt only pressed further into Lan Wangji's face, you just wanted to have your release, you body was aching, aching so much. You could see stars every time he curls his fingers into your sweet spot.

"Wangji," you whine subtly, you want him inside you so badly.

"I know," Lan Wangji speaks against your folds, nose bumping against your clit, "Gotta make sure you're all prepped for me, you haven't had me in a while."

"M'know... but please, wanna...." you quietly trail off, embarrassed to say any more.

Lan Wangji licks a long strip up your cunt, fingers slowly pumping in and out your silky walls. "What, baby? what do you want?" he hums, teasing you, knowing how shy you are and how embarrassed you get.

Every stripe of his tongue on your clit made your body shudder, so much so that you felt as if you were doing to pass out. "Cum, I wanna so bad," you whimper, tears filling your lash line. "Need you... i-in me."

"Alright," Lan Wangji replies. "Got to give my wife what she needs."

"Please," you say, your whimpers getting louder when he speeds up the pace of his fingers and tongue.

"Wangji," you moan out. "Feels so good."

Once more, Lan Wangji's nose brushes up against your delicate clit, and your grip on his hair tightened. A satisfied sigh seeps through him into your folds as a mewl from your full lips. As he sucked your clit between his lips and flicked your sensitive bud with his tongue, Lan Wangji was eagerly moving his head in motion to get a full dive into your cunt.

His tongue climbs up from your wet hole to your clit while you let out a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head as a result of his advances, and as you grind down on his face, a moan echoes through your clit.

Your lips were filled with chants of his name, and he relished every moment of it. Lan Wangji's two fingers inside your cunt began to move once more, you eyes widened, your back further arched into his face, thighs clenching tighter around your head.

"Wangji, f-feels s' good," you moan, tears spilling past your lash line, he was making you feel so good.

His finger pressed up against that soft spot inside your walls.

"Taking it so well, you're so good f'me," Lan Wangji moans against you, refusing to rut his hips into the futon, this was your pleasure, not his own, for now.

A moan arouses from you and your hips grind themselves onto his face. He let you for once have some sort of control over the situation, and he decided that if you came quicker he'll let you do it more often. "That's it," he praised.

You cry his name through broken letters, and he moves more quickly and needily, and the one hold he had on your leg tightens. Your fingers encircled his locks to prevent him from moving and force him to breathe more deeply into your folds as your tummy coil tightened.

The grunts just served to tip you over the brink, and when he pressed his tongue firmly against your clit, you let out a low-pitched scream. Your stomach coil parted, drenching his face in your cum.

With your soaked pussy flowing out from your swollen folds, he carefully withdrew his fingers. You softly mewl in overstimulation and plant a kiss on your clit before lifting his head from your thighs.

And just like that, he holds the base of his cock, angling his tip towards your entrance. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Lan Wangji moan into your neck. "You're so perfect."

"You feel so good," you moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you.

you feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Our moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Lan Wangji held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Lan Wangji continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-"

"I'm close-," He groans.

"Me too," you choke out.

you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Lan Wangji's bare chest causing Lan Wangji to groan and his arms to wrap tightly around you. After a few more pumps Lan Wangji came, filling your cunt with cum, letting a few more rolls of his hips into you to help ride out both our highs before he pulled out slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

His forehead leaning against yours. "I love you," he whispered. "And I will never let you go." You closed your eyes, allowing tears to slip down your cheeks. There was no escaping him. Lan Wangji's love had turned into an all-consuming darkness, a darkness that had swallowed you whole. He came to see you often, sat for hours in your company, sometimes just sitting in silence, at other times kissing and touching you, holding you close, as if at any moment you would disappear. 

And every time you thought about running again, about trying to find your way back to Jiang Cheng, back to your family, you remembered Lan Wangji's eyes the last time you had tried to run. You remembered the way he had so promptly caught you, the way he'd firmly dragged you back to Gusu, whispering dark promises that you would never run from him again. You were his. Completely. And no matter how suffocating his love became, you could not see a way out. "I want to breathe," you whispered one night, the sound barely audible as you shook in the circle of his arms. "You are breathing," Lan Wangji replied calmly, his hand stroking your hair with languid ease. But you weren't. Not really. 

You were drowning, and there was no escaping it, no matter how much you love him.

You needed to get away. You waited for the dead of night, knowing it was the only time you'd have.

Your heartbeat in your chest, your quaking hands eased the hidden door open, and you crept through the halls.  But you weren't fast enough. You'd barely cleared the outer courtyard when you felt his presence. You spun on your heel and you saw him. He had you caught. Again. "Where do you think you're going?"  "I-" Your voice stuttered, taking a step backward.

 You knew you could never run from him. Saying nothing more, he leaned over you and clamped your wrist. He didn't have to hurt you, as he knew just too well you would listen either way. "You promised me you wouldn't run," he told you in a calm voice. "I-I won't be able to live like this, Wangji," you stammered, already feeling your eyes prick with tears. "I can't-" He cut you off before you could finish, his lips slamming onto yours which took your breath away as his hold on you tightened, pinning you to the wall. His hands roamed your body, not in that tender manner he had previously used, but with an urgency. You tried pulling away, but he was too strong, his need too overpowering. He was claiming you-in his possessiveness that swallowed you whole. And then, his lips whispered against the shell of your ear, and you heard words he almost never said.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you more than anything.". "I love you, too," you whispered, the words escaped before you could stop them from spilling out. He could almost fall apart right there and then, you say those words so genuinely. 

You felt the change in the way his touch softened and became purposed. His hands roam your body, but this time not to claim or control, but to feel you, connect to you. You kissed him back, your body arcing into his, your hands tangling in his hair as you drew him closer. The intensity of the kiss grew, but it wasn't rough anymore. It was just... passionate. Raw. He'd been whispering your name between kisses. "I don't want to lose you. I don't. I love you so much." You clung to him, tears escaping down your cheeks. But this time, you didn't try getting away. You didn't push him away. 

Because for the very first time, you truly felt you were with him. He'd pulled you close, his body pressed to yours in that instant, and you realized you'd stopped fighting. You'd stopped fighting the pull of his love no matter how suffocating or overwhelming it had been. Because you loved him too.

You were his. And he was yours.

Back in the room, you both bare and exposed. 

You felt the weight of Lan Wangji's bare body press against your back and you let out a soft huff at the sudden feeling. His mass was pressing me hard to the mattress. His hands trailing down your waist. His big hands moved to grip the backs of your small ones, rendering your ability to squirm out of Lan Wangji's hold.

His abs were flush against your back, hands gripping the backs of your own, pressing them into the bed before wrapping his forehead band around your hands, keeping you in place. Lan Wangji's breath tickled your ear and you wiggled your head at the warm sensation, your core getting wetter, your body trying to squirm away from the imposing hold that he had on you.

Lan Wangji's hands moved slowly, changing his grip so that one of his hands held both of you over your head, being cautious not to get your hair entangled within the movement. A content sigh leaves your mouth when Lan Wangji raises his body ever so slightly, trailing his free hand down the expanse of your smooth back before his fingers meet your slick entrance.

"Don't even think that you need prep," he mutters against your ear before taking a nibble at the collagen, you let out a gasp at the sudden action. Lan Wangji let out a breathy laugh at your reaction.

Then you felt a heavy, throbbing tip press against your clit and you moaned from the small touch. You tried to squirm away from the pleasurable cause but couldn't as Lan Wangji knew your body more than you did yourself, he knew you were gonna try to run from his body due to the pleasure. So, he pressed his weight against you once more.

You held your breath when Lan Wangji sank his throbbing cock into your spongey walls, his length getting squeezed by every ridge within your soaked cunt. A moan left both of your mouths as Lan Wangji's length nudged the deepest spot within you.

"Look how you take me in," Lan Wangji grunts. "Such a good little slut." You sigh in pleasure at the degradative praise, he knew that you loved to be worshipped in an abasement way, you savoured his words struck him so deeply. In a way he never wanted to call you anything else.

But he didn't move, he wanted to relish in on how you desired to cause friction, desired to move against his touch, but couldn't. Lan Wangji's cock, prodded so deep in your gummy walls that you whimpered in pleasure, but that didn't stop him from not moving. He was still snug inside.

Hot and heavy kisses trail down from your ear down to the dip of your neck to shoulder and a breathless sigh escaped your parted lips before Lan Wangji rolled his hips into yours. A moan slips out of your mouth, his thick length scraping all the sensitive parts of your warm insides.

Lan Wangji's knees spread your legs apart so that any advances from you ensured that they would be shut down, so that you remained situated below him, your pretty body that paled in comparison to his big frame. As he expected, you couldn't move from his trapping embrace.

His movements became faster, his cock thrusting into the depths of my needy hole as strained moans and whines left your throat. Lan Wangji was panting in your ear and an occasional deep groan slipped past his lips, the sounds which made your cunt flutter tightly around his length.

Lan Wangji was filling you up to the hilt, his throbbing pink tip hitting that soft, gummy spot in my cunt that caused me to scream out in fulfilment. Your body tried to arch away from the pleasure, not being able to take the strong rolls of Lan Wangji's hips, but as you arched your back away, his thrusts only aimed deeper, harder into your G spot. 

Repetitive moans left your mouth while he pounded into your tight heat. You suddenly had the instinctive urge to press yourself into his length, but you couldn't, his weight was too heavy for you to move against him, and you were utterly hopeless as his thrusts became faster.

"Please, I wanna come," you cry out mewling. 

Your body trembled beneath him and the hold he had on your hands loosened. Your hips were getting held, then, the strength he possessed lifted you onto your knees before a bicep wrapped around your throat, lifting your head. It wasn't a tight grip but the power lifted your head from the futon while you shakily rested your weight on your elbows.

Your back arched heavily, finally being able to sink more into him. Lan Wangji hunched over you, pulling you closer to him and connected your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, grunting into you while he swallowed your moans. "Good girl, taking me so deep," Lan Wangji groaned, pulling away from your mouth and pushing this arch into your back deeper.

He watched your ass ripping again his lower abdomen, watching your cunt with purple iris'. Observing how your walks sucked him in, leaving a creamy white rind of arousal around the base of his cock. "Making you feel so good, aren't I?" Lan Wangji groaned his head tilted forward, sweat beading on his forehead as we watched your fall apart and tremble from his dick, broken moans slipping past your plump lips.

A satisfied smirk came onto Lan Wangji's face as he watched those tears that welled in your fluffy lash line spill down your smooth cheeks. "Such a good little- slut," Lan Wangji groans. "Pussy taking me in so deep."

"'Wanna come, please," you beg, wanting to feel the release, desperate as the tears stream down your flushed cheeks. "Want it so bad."

You clench around his length as he increases his pace, instantly accommodating to the speed but your moans escalate. "Such a good girl," He leaned down and mumbled in my ear chased with a deep moan that stirred my insides clenching around his length. "C'mon, how much you want it?" Lan Wangji rasps in your ear.

"Want it so bad!" you whimper, unable to comprehend any thoughts that swelled into your head. "Please, please, please!"

"Go ahead," he growled and you spasmed around his length as your high washed over you, your legs shaking as his weight pressed down even more than it was. His thrusts didn't slow causing me to whimper in overstimulation, but Lan Wangji helped it, his hips continuing to rut into mine, helping me ride out my orgasm as he chased his own.

With a groan, his lips planted against mine once again as his hips slammed into mine, hard, his cum spilling inside me causing me to moan into his kiss. Lan Wangji slipped his softening length out, and pulled away from the kiss as you slumped to the futon, his eyes chained to the white splotches of silky come that spilled from your gaping cunt

"I'll clean you up," he continued, picking your limp and tired body up.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

[marybeatriceofmodena]

A'ight, what is it about Anne Brontë and Tenant of Wildfell Hall? I keep seeing stuff about how Anne is the unproblematic Brontë sister and that's what kept me away from her books lol

*kracks knuckles* All right. So, remember how the Brontë sisters wrote three novels simultaneously? Charlotte wrote The Professor, Emily wrote Wuthering Heights, and Anne wrote Agnes Grey. The two latter got picked up by publishers, but The Professor was rejected, so Charlotte finished up Jane Eyre and sent it to a publisher, who accepted it immediately and had it published before Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey got printed. All three of them wrote under pen names (Charlotte was Currer Bell, Anne was Acton Bell, and Emily was Ellis Bell), because they knew their novels were, say, a little controversial, and that if it was known they were women, their characters would be judged and immediately associated to their works. So needless to say, they were VERY supportive of each other, because they knew no one else would. (Their father was also supportive, but they published their novels without telling him at first but once they did, he was very encouraging, thankfully.)

It's easy to see why Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights would be considered controversial in their day (they still kind of are today given the Discourse(tm), lol). Agnes Grey, while it didn't do as well as JE and WH, was criticized for being a little too... let's say, honest about a governess' day-to-day life, when Anne wrote it drawing from her own experiences as a governess. The thing with Anne is that people find her stuff a little moralizing, but it was in her best interest to present Agnes as virtuous given how she made little secret of how poorly governesses could be treated, since it wasn't that rare they'd be accused of profiting from the families they were employed by, when there were abuse cases more often than not.

Then The Tenant of Wildfell Hall came out, and that's when criticism started to fly. May Sinclair (an early 20th century suffragist) would later write that the scene where Helen (the main character of the novel) slams her door to her husband's face had a reveberation that was heard throughout England. It's the story (in case you don't mind getting spoiled for a 150-year-old book) of a lady who marries a Victorian fuckboy called Huntington, ends up in an abusive household where her only comfort is her son, and once she realizes that her husband is becoming a bad influence on her child, she leaves him and manages to hide in a house that her brother is willing to rent to her, while she tries to earn a small living by painting. And people lost their shit, because according to them, Helen was a bad woman for leaving her husband, even though she did it to, you know, get her son out of a toxic environment. If Charlotte criticized anything about the novel, it's that she thought some aspects of Huntington were depicted too graphically, but they mostly had to do with his alcoholism and his adultery (this is important: those critcisms have nothing to do with Helen, or how Tenant is shade thrown at Charlotte and Emily's works). That might have been because Anne got some inspiration for Huntington from Branwell, their brother, who was also an alcoholic and got fired from his job as a tutor for having an affair with the lady of the house. Charlotte was pretty fed up with Branwell at that point, and while Emily was the one who got along with him best, they had some pretty big fights because she was in no way a pushover (so the belief that Charlotte and Emily idolized Branwell while Anne was the only one who saw through his BS is also, incidentally, BS).

So, why did Charlotte stop Tenant from being re-printed after Anne's death? Simply put, the criticism against it was getting worse, and people were defaming Anne's character because of it. Charlotte had had her own share of troubles with Jane Eyre - she dedicated the second edition to William Makepeace Thackeray (of Vanity Fair and Barry Lyndon fame) because he was her favorite author, without knowing his wife was institutionalized after suffering from severe post-partum depression. And that led, of course, to people speculating that Jane Eyre was semi-autobiographical, and that Charlotte was Thackeray's mistress. (I mean, it *is* semi-autobiographical, but Thackeray had nothing to do with it.) So she was understandably a little on edge, and while she edited Agnes Grey for a reprinting after Anne's death (given there were a lot of spelling mistakes and the like in the first printing), she asked for Tenant to not be reprinted to protect her sister's memory.

So no, Charlotte did not block Tenant from being as well-known as Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre because she was "jealous", or because she was mad that Anne was "throwing shade" at her and at Emily. She was protecting her sister's reputation, because she wasn't even alive anymore to speak for herself and mount any kind of defense, and that was while Charlotte's own reputation was under fire, after she had lost the two people who had supported her the most - Emily died in 1848, and Anne in 1849. To try to pit these sisters against each other, when two of them died far too young and the surviving one had to pick up the pieces and defend them against public opinion - it is simply distasteful, and it needs to stop.

[mosneakers]

Coraleye calls out to the dead for the loving mother, letting her know her child would like to see her. She speaks softly into the atmosphere, drawing death so near with her delicate incantations, the veil that separates the realm of the living from the realm of the dead is now only made of lace.

With their head lowered and eyes closed, Morgyn immerses themselves in Coraleye's voice, infusing intention into her words. Tycho tries emulating their concentration, sneakily stealing glances at Coraleye from the corner of his eye. He's captivated by her craft, as if she might as well be beckoning him instead. He becomes hyper-fixated on the movements that her hand makes as he holds it tight, and begins to wonder whether or not those movements are being mirrored on both hands.

The energy in the room insidiously shifts to a hushed stillness. Even the circle of flames, which danced erratically seconds ago, now settles with an uncanny anticipation, casting eerie shadows with unknown intentions into every corner. Coraleye shudders, she can feel the presence of an extra entity lingering behind her, but it isn't Rosemary.

Ripping through the silence, a guttural yelp escapes Coraleye's lips and she scrambles over the sacred circle of flames reaching out and clutching onto any arms within her grasp that she could seek refuge in. She holds onto Tycho and Morgyn for dear life. Coraleye: SOMETHING TOUCHED MY SHOULDER! [Stuttering] I-it... it grabbed me! It was definitely someone's hand... Morgyn: Are you sure it was- Coraleye: YES! There's no mistaking. Someone else is in the room with us.

Their eyes dart around the room in panic, and a short silence falls upon them, before Tycho hesitantly musters something up. Tycho: Well Cor... This is a séance... right? I mean, isn't that the whole point?

[Another pause]

Morgyn: [Bursts into fits of laughter]

Coraleye tries to maintain a frown, but the laughter becomes infectious and soon all three are joining in on it. Coraleye: [Affectionately touches Tycho's face] Well... I was expecting Mama Rosemary and whoever touched me was NOT her. It startled me, okay?

Tycho: Yes, that was made apparent by the little squeaky sound you made when you leapt across the fire.

Coraleye: Squeaky sound? How very dare you! I did not squeak! I gasped.

Morgyn: No, you definitely squeaked...

Coraleye: What?! You're taking his side on this?! Tycho's thoughts wander back to Coraleye's hands. He glances at Morgyn, who promptly gives a swift double tap to Coraleye's hand, still resting on their leg, as if silently asking, "are we good now?"

Coraleye: [Swiftly pulling her hand away] I'm so sorry about that, I didn't realize—

Morgyn: Darling, you were right about that presence not being my mother's... I think someone is here to see you... Tycho: Wait... Is that who I think it is?

Coraleye: ...Grandma Agnes?