#FUCK IM SO BAD AT WRITING RIGHT NOW

[pebbleswritessometimes]

Sleepy Head

Larissa weems x reader | NSFW

Thank you too my bbygrill, v3nusxsky for the prompt <3

Prompt: Reader ~ not a morning human

Larissa ~ early morning person

Larissa constantly has to try coax us out of bed bc sleep😍 like she try’s everything sweet words compliments before getting frustrated and saying fine I’ll shower alone then. We get up super quick whining bc Larissa in the shower? Fuck yes

Words:1098 why is tumblrs text still funny

Warnings: Daddy kink, shower sex

Not proof read! Sorry this sucks! turns out I’m not currently good at writing smut! I need practice I’m sorry 👹

“Wake up, Sleepy head,” whispering, she attempted to gently stir you from your sleep. Brushing the stray strands of hair away, Larissa sprinkled light kisses over your face. She received a sleepy smile in return. She always adored the way you slept. The gradual rise and fall of your chest often guided her into a peaceful slumber by your side. “Hey, my pretty girl wanna get up?”

Offering a grunt at the sudden light shining through the windows, you yanked the sheets above your head. Larissa was always the early bird, while you on the other hand, appreciated every single sleeping second you could. Sure, being a teacher at Nevermore was amazing, but hell was it exhausting sometimes. Some days, you wanted nothing more than the fluffy embrace of your shared mattress and to feel the warmth of your girlfriends body next to yours. That of which you were currently severely in lack of. Mumbling into the blankets, “Come snuggle meeee,” trying to get her to crawl back in bed. “No, no. Come on sweetheart! If you don’t get out of this bed now, I’ll drag you out myself,” pulling the sheets down and wrapping her arms around your torso, she waited for an answer. You’ve been with Larissa for long enough now, you know the strongest parts of the bed frame to hold on to. Bracing yourself and wrapping your hands around the first bar, she tugged. Achieving just a smidge of movement, she continued. “Come. ON,” the last word coming out a bit rougher than intended because of the amount of effort she was putting in. Larissa was the stronger of you two, yet you managed to hold your ground. She let go and huffed as she went to the closet. “Hmph, fine,” pulling a towel from the shelf, “I’ll shower on my own then.”

With your head shooting up, you got twisted in the sheets as you tried to make a swift exit from the bed, ending on the floor with a thud. Larissa sucked on her teeth as she shut the door to the bathroom. Scrambling across the floor, you bolted to the door. “Rissa? Rissa, I’m up now! Larissa!” Jiggling the doorknob in hopes that she left it unlocked for you. “You lost your chance, babe,” she shouted as the water from the shower began to run.

When she made up her mind, it was near impossible to change it. Even if you did manage, she would still have her way some how. She leaned against the sink, waiting for anything else from you. She had a habit of crossing her arms when she waited. She looked so at authoritative, you were sure you’d do anything she told you to. Shuffling up on your knees as you heard the lock turn. “What do you say?” Looking up at her, you couldn’t help the sudden wetness growing between your thighs. “Please,” you whined. She took her face in her hand and narrowed her gaze, “please, what?” Gulping, you knew what she wanted. “Please, daddy? Please may I come in?” She smirked, pushing her thumb into your mouth, “good girl.”

Quickly, her lips found their way to your neck as you unbuttoned her pajama top. Your hands having a mind of their own as they made their way to her chest. Grazing your thumbs over her buds, you felt her shudder. She’s always been so sensitive there and you loved taking advantage of it. Pinching and pulling as her own hands made their way to your waist. Soon enough, your bodies were flush to each other and the steam from the shower only intensified the heat. Pushing you up against the tile of the shower, she spoke next to your ear “You’re daddy’s sweet girl, yes?”

Kissing your neck, slowly tracing her hand down to your core. Nodding your head without delay, “I’m- yes I’m daddy’s sweet girl, only daddy’s girl.” She abruptly spun you around and pushed you further into the wall, “And you’re gonna take what I give you, like a good girl, hm?”

“Yes! Please, please just fuck me, daddy!” “Such a needy little thing,” She chuckled as she placed her hand between your legs. Subconsciously grinding your hips against her hand, she roughly pushed you back towards the wall. “Uh uh, stay still or you get nothing,” she ordered and you whimpered.

Without warning she plunged two long fingers into your core. Yelping at the sudden stretch of your walls, your mind quickly went hazy with lust. Thrusting in and out at a relentless pace, she curled her fingers at just the right spots. Taking her time with placing each mark on your shoulders, she snaked her free hand up and around to your breasts. It wasn’t long until you teetered on the edge of overwhelming pleasure. “Mm gonna cum daddy. Fuck oh- can I?” Giving a hum in response, Larissa continued to swiftly glide her fingers in and out. As you came with a scream, she wouldn’t admit it but her legs shook as she felt your walls tighten around her. Chest heaving, you turned around and leaned against her.

“Daddy feel good,” mumbling as you came down from your high, “I wanna make daddy feel good.”

“Yeah, you wanna make daddy feel good? Down,” guiding you to your knees. Tilting your head up with her hand, she was met with your lust filled eyes. Instinctively gripping your hands on her toned thighs, you licked your lips. Moaning as your tongue met her slick folds. You swore she was sweeter than anything you’ve tasted. Flicking your tongue against her clit, she gripped your hair and pulled you closer. “Doing so good for me baby,” she moaned as you plunged your tongue into her core. You felt her grow closer to her orgasm as she fluttered around your tongue. Wasting no time, you wrapped your lips around her clit. You alternated between flicking and sucking. With a sharp gasp tearing through her, Larissa shuddered as she came in your mouth. Gliding your tongue up and down, lapping up every ounce of her that you could. You refused to waste the gift she allowed you to receive.

Both finally coming back down to earth, Larissa took her towel and carefully dried you off. “I think maybe I’ll try waking up early more often,” you giggled as you pulled one of Larissa’s shirts over your head. “I don’t know…I actually think cuddling sounds really nice,” she smirked as she flicked of the bathroom light. Who knows, maybe you could do both.

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[sporesgalaxy]

me when the ship fic is not also an in-depth thesis with multiple cited sources proposing an analysis of one or both characters' psyches down to the most fundamental level

[benkeibear]

Back to normal Navi

The dreaded post has come...

I will not finish this years Kinktober on here. Opening tumblr has become a chore for me more than anything. It sparks no joy, I dont want to scroll dash anymore, I don't bother to keep up with anyone anymore on here.

My interests have shifted greatly over the past few weeks and I found my way back to crafting, gaming and even playing the bass again. At the moment I don't enjoy animanga / fandom on tumblr and wish to no longer participate or create for it.

I'm 99% certain that this is just a mood and I will most definitely be back but as of now I have no motivation or interest to create for tumblr. I'll be here every once in a while and answer asks should I get any and to still do background work in my network but otherwise it will be silent until I found my love and passion for all of this again.

There is no point in forcing myself to write for characters I do not care for, to force myself to keep up with the latest stuff that changes every 2 weeks. I will be selfish now and put myself first until my love has returned- be it 2 weeks, 2 months or 2 years.

- Much love, Luma.

[mortysmith]

Thought about the toxic ep Almost died

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[bitchfitch]

I've started playing Potion Permit, and so far it's one of my favorite games I've messed around with, but the most big brained move the devs made was giving you a dog on day 1, and then making that dog able to track NPCs and lead you directly to them no matter where they are in the town.

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[bonestrouslingbones]

also i hate to admit it and i swear i DO understand the importance of them but fellas i fear i may be steadily morphing into a humanities hater

[chaosinstigator]

“why am i losing followers” *talks about daniel like he’s dead and buried*

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[sophistired18]

Kryk ficlet about something something january, insecurities, the Earth, and sisters. Pt. 2/3(?)

Snow is falling, you're floating, let me anchor you.

"Geez, you look more nervous than me." Yaku blurts, observing Kuroo silently run circles in his head.

They're walking around the corner, about to reach the restaurant that Kuroo agreed on with his sister. Kuroo promised Yaku he'd make this work out sometime soon, but he didn't expect it to be this soon. Honestly, he was surprised she even picked up at all. Then he tried setting up a date a month ahead, which she declined due to her 'very busy schedule'. Kuroo's certain she's definitely wanting to avoid this too. Although, what he didn't expect is for her to say that she was free two weeks from then. So that's why he and Yaku are walking in the snow to a small restaurant after a long train ride to Yokohama in the middle of January. And each step they take closer, the more Kuroo realizes how much he dreads this trip. Or dreads his family. Well, his sister mostly.

"I'm not nervous." Kuroo replies. "She irritates me. Not in the way you do, I love you, she's just always rubbed me off in the wrong way." Kuroo begrudges.

"More than Daishou?" Yaku questions, his voice airing in amusement.

"Yes. More than Daishou." Kuroo admits, scrunching his brow.

"Wow. That's a new low." Yaku hums. "But, seriously, you said you didn't care what she thinks. I'm not going to get butthurt if she doesn't like me. I'm stuck with you whether she approves or not." Yaku says truthfully, nudging Kuroo in the shoulder with his fist.

"Yeah, because I don't care what she thinks." Kuroo emphasizes. "Don't give me that look. I mean it! I genuinely don't. I don't care what she thinks of me, per se.."

"So you're worried that she'll think badly of me?" Yaku asks with an air of curiosity, rather than suspicion.

"It's more like.. well, yes. Sort of. Yes. But just to be clear, it's not because I think you're a bad person that she will immediately disapprove of." Kuroo attempts to explain.

"Obviously." Yaku responds, sureness radiating off his voice. He looks up at Kuroo afterwards, insinuating for him to continue.

"What I'm trying to say is, you're an amazing person. Don't say anything, I'm not done yet." Kuroo stops Yaku before he can butt in. "And I love you so much. Which you'd think that these two things would matter as a deciding factor on whether or not my sister will react amicably... but I highly doubt any of it would even matter." Kuroo lets out.

Yaku inhales, places his hands together, before pointing both accusingly at Kuroo. "Tetsu, dear, please get to the fucking point."

"Mori, she's never ever cared about anything I do or like. Which wasn't of course, a big deal to me like ever. Except, until now. Because now, you mean so much more than anything I've ever liked."

"Except volleyball of course." Yaku remarks.

"Ehh more or less equal I'd say." Kuroo laughs.

"Okay sureee, but continue." Yaku rolls his eyes, knowing there's much more to his idiot boyfriend's internal family complex.

Kuroo sighs. "I never cared if she had nothing to do with my life. I mean, heck, she didn't say a single thing to me when our team went to nationals. My mom at least sent a text! And graduation! Both graduations! She didn't even show up. Only called to say congrats and then hung up." He says exasperatedly, leaving him to wonder why he's so out of breath after letting that out. "So yeah, she can do her own thing, it's whatever. But, there's one thing I will absolutely not stand for her to ignore or treat like it's not a big deal, and that's you. Because if she did, then I know it's simply based on her view of me. And I don't think I could ever let anyone treat you that way, especially if it's because of me. Because you are such a-"

"Tetsu. Hey, I get it." Yaku says gentle yet firm. He stands in front of him, physically stopping Kuroo in his tracks, before reaching to hold his shoulders in place. Then he continues, "But, I also completely disagree. You're forgetting the fact that you are also a fucking amazing person. So please for the love of god, please remember that. Because then, who cares what she thinks of you or me. I already know who I am, you do too. Don't let her get to your head before we've even seen her yet."

Kuroo looks into Yaku's eyes and feels vulnerable yet comforted all at once. He feels grounded. He closes his eyes, calming down his nerves that, he denied in having, and opens them to meet Yaku's eyes again. "Okay." He slowly nods.

"We don't need her blessing." Yaku reassures. "Besides, I already got your dad's and Kenma's, and those are the only ones that really matter anyways." Yaku smiles, which only brings Kuroo back down to Earth once more. Yaku does that. There's this security about him that Kuroo craves and adores, and also partially envies.

"Damn it." Kuroo curses. He lowers his neck so his forehead meets Yaku's. "I love you so much, you know that?" He takes a deep breath, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. "Thanks, I needed that."

Yaku chuckles, his warm breath visible in the cold. "You really overthink the easiest of things. I just need you here in the present, Okay? Otherwise those five braincells of yours are going to explode." Yaku laughs lightheartedly, which is adorable even if it was after he just insulted Kuroo basically three times in a row. Yet, every bit of it helped Kuroo ease up a bit, only confirming that he must be some sort of masochist.

Instead of delving into that thought, he decides to come back to Earth, where Yaku is waiting for him. Kuroo presses a light kiss atop of Yaku's head and leaves his lips there, breathing him in.

"You ready now?" Yaku asks, peering his head up.

Kuroo smiles. "Yeah, I'm ready."

[chocogi]

Your job as the reaper has taken you around the world, meeting souls of vastly different paths.

And here, in a bloody train station, underneath the earth, a man with a mohawk hisses at you with blood on his teeth and a hole at the side of his head.

"Ah'm not goin' anywhere," he hisses, "still got shite ta do. Ya ken?"

You rise elegantly from your staggered position. "I do. But like you, I have a job to attend to." Your scythe, forged from the belief of the people who believed in your existence, twists and fades to leave your hands free.

So many souls demanded one last fight. A chance to come back to the people they've gutted with loss.

He grits his teeth. "Got no pity fer a man like me, eh?"

You lock gazes with a dead man. "Johnny," you echo, "there is no running away from death."

All Johnny sees is a skull. He tenses when he blinks and the next thing he's facing is his lieutenant. The same lieutenant begging on his knees for him to wake up.

"Pity disnae fit in tha eyes of Death, ya ken?" He snarks, charging towards you.

You simply allow him to stab into you, dry bone cracking and snapping like fragile chalk under his force.

Bony hands wrap gently around Soap's neck, and Ghost is wrenched away harshly from a cold man's corpse.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

(chuckles) Im so good at reading comprehension and my meat is huge