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destinationtoast · 6 months ago

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1/3 - Hi there! Three (I think) part ask incoming. You're the main person I know of who compiles tons of interesting fandom stats, so I wanted to ask you about it if you have the time to answer. :) I think a lot about how AO3 works great as a fan*fic* archive, but for other fanworks, like images, audio, video, etc., it's only as good as wherever the media is being hosted. With the way hosting sites come and go, or change their TOS to nuke nsfw or queer content, etc., it makes me wonder

how many broken image links litter AO3 at this point. I know it's not considered the primary place to find fanart, but a lot of folks do post images there—for events like Big Bangs, as standalone art, and even as decorative section breaks, etc. My question is: do you think there's a way to look at, say, works tagged with #fanart (of which there are 99,504 atm) and determine what percentage of those are broken links? From what little I understand, one would have to (perhaps with the use of a simple bot?) try to open any link bordered by the <img src> html, and see what portion of those return an error versus what ones actually load? I suppose it could even be something like looking at fanart posted in 2007, 2012, 2017, and 2022 to compare how many older links are broken versus newer links. Anyway, this may be completely unfeasible, but I figured I'd ask about your thoughts! Thanks!

Ooh, thanks for the great question! I took a while to answer because I wasn't initially sure what to recommend and ended up gathering some data to investigate. (If anyone else also has relevant data, please share in the notes!)

I liked your idea of looking at samples different years going back, and I decided to look through 100 AO3 works tagged "Fanart" (or a subtag) that were posted 10 years ago -- as a very fast starting point, I didn't even take a random sample of works, I instead looked at the first 100 multimedia fanworks posted in July 2014. (And August, when necessary; see more notes on methodology at the end.) Please keep in mind that this sample that may not be very representative of AO3 more broadly; to get better estimates, more sampling would be needed. Based on this initial data gathering (and the fact that most fanworks on AO3 were posted within the past 10 years), I would tentatively guess that that most fanart, fanvids, and podfic on AO3 still have accessible multimedia.

Given how many broken links and embeds there are on older webpages, I assumed that a ton of the links from 10 years ago would be broken. But I was pleasantly surprised by the results:

Wow -- 10 years on roughly 90% of the multimedia still works! I was honestly floored; I'd been originally planning to also look at 5 years ago to see how much better that was, but if ~90% are still working 10 years on, 5 years ago doesn't have room to be dramatically better. (However, I'd love to see more follow up sampling across different years to find out.)

There were a lot of AO3 users in this sample who posted multiple works -- some posted as many as a dozen multimedia works in July 2014. I didn't want the results to be overly skewed by any one fanwork creator, so I also redid the analysis with just one work from each unique creator:

Okay, cool, those results are pretty similar. I also did some further breakdowns on this smaller set of works to look at which hosts creators were using, and how many of the hosts were still working:

The most common fanart host used in this sample was Tumblr, then wixmp -- which I think from some very quick googling might be because Deviantart switched to using Wix for image hosting at some point? (i.e., I think most of those artists may have posted their art on Deviantart, then linked to/embedded the image on AO3, and the image's direct URL was was wixmp.) There were a few other hosts at the time that were used by 5+ different artists in the sample, and then there were a whole lot of hosts were used by just one or a few artists.

Most of the 10-year-old fanart is still up for all of these hosting categories! Photobucket is the least reliable of the most commonly used hosts. In the Other category, 25% of the links are broken, but that's still better than I expected (see full host list here).

This is getting long, so I'm moving the breakdowns for fanvids and podfic beneath the cut:

Fanvids were almost all hosted on YouTube, Vimeo, or both (the above categories are not mutually exclusive). All the Vimeo links still worked, whether they required a password to view or not. Most YouTube links were working, and the few missing ones had almost all been taken down by YouTube for copyright reasons (according to the errors I got -- I'm not rendering judgment about whether they were actually fair use), rather than by the vidder who posted it. And almost a third of vidders also linked to other hosts besides the big two, but many of those links were broken; 59% still worked. (see full host list here)

For podfic, mediafire was a popular solution 10 years ago, though many podficcers used it as a backup rather than the main link that they shared. A lot of podficcers made use of a fandom hosting site that specialized in podfic -- either parakaproductions.com or audiofic.jinjurly.com. Four podficcers used soundcloud (often as a backup). And once again there were a lot of less-frequently used hosts, often used as backup links; 69% of those still worked. (see full host list here)

Some methodology notes and further thoughts:

For fanvids and podfic (but mostly not from fanart), the fanwork creators tended to provide multiple links, and in those cases, I counted the multimedia as working if at least one of the links was still working.

I counted embedded media and links to other sites that host the media all the same way.

I counted the media as broken if I got a 404 when I tried to visit it, or if a site like YouTube had taken it down due to copyright issues, or if I got an Access Denied message for a site like Google Drive.

I counted the media as working if it required a password that was given on the page (common with Vimeo), or if an embed was broken but there were working links to other sites.

How representative is this data? Well, these samples contained most/all of the multimedia fanworks posted in July 2014; that month, there were 70 fanvids, 135 podfic, and 186 pieces of fanart posted that haven't been deleted since. So it's pretty representative of July 2014 specifically. :) But there could have been, say, a fanwork challenge going on in July 2014 that caused unusual uploading patterns then.

The above data gathering and analysis took me several hours over several days. If you want to follow up, you could do more data gathering similar to what I did (I'm happy to elaborate on my process as needed). Or you could write a bot to do something similar; you could have it fetch more AO3 fanworks and try following the links within each work. However, that would be slightly tricky; I ran across more kinds of errors and complicated situations than I expected (e.g., if a YouTube video has been taken down due to copyright, it still has a working YouTube page; sometimes an embed is broken, but if you open the link within the embed in a separate window, it still works fine; many Vimeo links require a password to test, and it could be hard for the bot to reliably find the password in the surrounding text). So you'd have to program your bot to be able to handle a bunch of different special cases.

Regardless of which path you are considering, if you or anyone else does any follow up work here, I encourage you to start by looking through a bunch of fanworks yourself and deciding which scenarios you want count as "working" vs. "not working," and any other things you want to pay attention to.

Hope that helps, and please feel free to DM me with follow up questions. And if you follow up, please share anything else you figure out in this space!

#ao3 #fanart #fanvids #fanvid #podfic #embedded media #multimedia #broken links #link rot #fandom stats #toastystats #asks #toasty replies #op #to archive #I have a bunch of ~recent stats I need to backup to ao3 #but not yet!#50 #100

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butchcarmy · 10 months ago

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the jaw all white outfit from the sags… so many weddingday!carmy thots…

UGH he looked so good in the all white!! Those pics of him got me thinkin about taking the clothes off of him…although he's putting the clothes on in those imgs… let's just pretend…

Tags: suggestive, wedding night, telling carmy he’s pretty, undressing him

“You looked so handsome today,” you tell him when you're alone. It's the two of you in your bedroom after the wedding, still dressed in your formal attire. His suit remained fairly pristine throughout everything, especially given how you couldn't get your hands off him. To be fair, he wasn't much better in that regard.

“You were more beautiful,” he replies quietly. He pulls you in, hands gentle on your waist. “I still can't believe it.”

“What, that we're married?” You run your hands down the white lapels of his suit.

“Well, that’s one way to put it. I just…still can't believe that I got to marry you.” He's smiling again, like he's been doing all day. “Didn't feel real until I saw you walking down the aisle.”

“Didn't feel real through all the planning?” You tease, and he sighs. The planning was a huge source of stress, even through all the joy that came with it. “I know what you mean, though. Seeing you in this suit, I just…”

“Liked seeing me dressed up, huh?”

“Yes,” you whisper, carefully unbuttoning his jacket. “Couldn't stop thinking about taking it off of you.”

You kiss him on the lips, slow and sweet. He tastes faintly of the wine you both had earlier at dinner. You kiss his cheek, his jaw, and he tilts his head back when you trail your lips down his neck. Your hands gently take his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms.

“You’re so pretty, Carmy,” you continue softly, your fingers unbuttoning his shirt now. He chuckles, likely in equal parts affection and bashfulness. “So, so pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?” His cheeks are flushed by your praise. You’ve undone the last button, creating a sliver of bare skin down the front of him. You slide your hands under his shirt to gingerly take it off of him.

“Oh my god, yeah. You’re gorgeous. I swear I’ve told you this before, baby.” You’ve slipped his shirt off, and now he stands before you bare chested. You openly rake your eyes over his figure, running your hands over his warm skin. You start at his happy trail, go up his toned stomach, and smooth your thumb over the faded triangle tattoo on his chest.

“You have, I just…” Your thumb runs over his nipple, stiffening it, and he inhales sharply. “I, um, have never been called pretty before…I think.”

“What?” You gasp, aghast. How could you have missed this? Have you really never called him pretty before? “Well, clearly I need to tell you more often. Because you are. You’re my pretty boy, and I get to have you all for myself.”

“Mm, I’m all yours, beautiful,” he murmurs back, pulling you into a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you so much. So, so much.”

“I love you too, Carm,” you say, your chest full of affection. “I’m so happy you’re mine.”

“And I’m so happy that you’re mine.” He surprises you then, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you onto the bed. He’s peppering your face in kisses, and you can’t help your giddy laughter. “Let me show you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply, somewhat breathless. Carmy just smiles, and he starts taking off your clothes. He’s not gonna take it easy on you tonight.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy x you #my asks #I’ve never written wedding stuff before but like… I’m realizing WHY haven’t I?? it’s so good #anyway it’s my birthday today so writing this was like a little treat <3 thanks for the ask!!! hope u enjoy!!’#my blurbs

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catboymoments · 3 months ago

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Korekiyo has been my favorite character ever since I've heard of him so me instantly liking Kamal isn't a big surprise. Love them so much. So theyre like 15-16 and Salem is 10. Mother kind of makes me sad though cause she beleives she's doing what's best for Kamel. Hopefully she realizes sooner or a later that Kamel isn't weak. Is there a reason she hates women. Can't wait to find that out later.

Again I'm loving what you're doing with these characters. Question .... do these kids have parents or are they all orphans. I know you mention Maria and Khyle met at the same orphans together (luv that aswell , I've always loved sibling makiouma art , they're always really cute)

- hetaliaminidoodles

Thank you sm!!!

1) Mother formed out of a subconscious need for protection. A parental figure Kamal needed and didn’t have that could’ve prevented the abuse they went through, or at the very least made it less difficult. The trauma they went through was caused by their older sister, which is why Mother dislikes other women.

2) a few of them have parents or guardians, yes! Rahim, Shino, An, Kaleb, Ailani, Hilda and Titilayo all have at least one family member or guardian with them. K1-b0 also has the professor, but that’s somewhat different.

Rahim has his mother and grandmother, Shino lives with his uncle, An, Ailani and Titilayo all have a mom and dad. Titilayo’s parents are actually very well off and are at Newdawn more as volunteers. Kaleb has his granparents, and Hilda has two moms. (Full img of everyone for assistance)

#dr postcanon

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juuuulez · 1 year ago

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about the negan requests i don’t know if they’re still open but img i’ve been craving father!negan so bad recently i cantttt

i was just thinking like imagine how protective he’d be like he’d do anything for you and i’m imagining him killing people for you like if you were caught or taken for being his daughter and then bam he kills everyone. UGH i can’t hes so dad 💔💔

obv if you’re not up for it ignore this but i’d love to read it thabk you queen good night ❤️

info: Negan x Daughter! Reader, platonic hurt/comfort, kidnapping, torture, choking, omg sorry this was dark, but also sooo cute, he is father.

summary: After his daughter is kidnapped, Negan kills to get her back.

you are SO RIGHT he is absolutely so dad

i’ve left it open to interpretation, so you can decide if you’re his actual daughter or just a found family/adopted situation like my capulet series

this was soooo much fun to write, it got lowkey dark but i’ve been needing something grimy

“This isn’t going to work the way you think it will.”

You were currently trying to convince your stubborn captor that this whole kidnapping thing wasn’t going to play out well.

After a supply run gone wrong, you’d been taken by a member of a rival group, with the intention of getting leverage against the Saviours. Simultaneously, they attempted to get some cooperation out of you, figuring there was no better ransom than a begging daughter.

It was this strange, metal contraption. You were chained to a chair, by the hands and feet. A steel collar was fixed around your neck, with a rotating knob at the back, which upon movement, lessened the circumference, tightening the metal collar around your neck.

Because of this, you held little control of the situation. Your captor knew this, refusing to give in to your half-assed reasoning.

“I dunno, darlin’,” He chimed, the nickname sounding gross on an unfamiliar tongue, “I think this is workin’ pretty well.”

The man moves behind you, twisting the metal fidget, letting the collar close in on your neck. In response, you lift your head to try and gain any extra room, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to even breathe.

“Now, speak into the mic, babe. Make it sound genuine, we wanna really rile ‘em up.”

When you don’t respond, refusing to plead for your life, to be reduced to begging, he only tightens the contraption. You let out a strained noise, chewing down on your bottom lip, trying to breathe through your nose in hopes of staying conscious.

A burly hand comes into vision, clasping your nostrils closed, completely cutting off your airway. The knob ticks over a few more inches to the right, the sensation now becoming outright painful, harsh metal cutting into your flesh.

It’s all starting to get a little spotty, but you stand your ground. Last time, you’d passed out, and the process had simply started again from the beginning. But this wouldn’t wear you out. You were stronger, at least, you hoped you were.

Luckily, there’s the distant smash of glass, a whirr and pop noise wizzing past your face, eyes still clenched closed. Everything goes fuzzy, dark spots invading your vision, even as the silence erupts into groans of pain.

Your captor lays on the floor, bullet wound to the shoulder. One hand clasps the gun at his side, only for another shot to land right through his meaty wrist. There’s a slight commotion, but it all sounds like distant mumbles, drowned out by a cotton-like blanket of distortion.

“Load ‘em up. I’ll deal with him back home.”

The voice is familiar, but you don’t have the capacity to understand, still teetering on the edge of consciousness. Then, the confines around your neck are loosened, and suddenly you’re granted access to air again.

It’s all too much, too fast, the sharp inhale only worsening your dizzy state. You yank at your hands, wanting to soothe the painful gash along your neck, but find that the metal brackets still restrain your wrists.

“Hey, hey. Just breathe for me, baby-girl. Can you focus on that?”

Warm hands on your face, are the first thing you notice. Holding you still, so your head doesn’t slump over. You mentally note the absence of gloves, but don’t know what to do with this information, otherwise simply comforted by the air of safety provided.

Your vision comes back slowly, still all fuzzy at the edges, but you can make out what’s important. Negan, in front of you, kneeling. One hand is holding your face still, the other working at the cuffs on your wrists and ankles.

He’s bloody.

So, so bloody. It’s stained all over his leather jacket and jeans, splattered up his arms, likely the reason behind removing the gloves. Some is even on the side of his face, colouring the slight greyish hue of his stubble red.

It all snaps back to you in an instant, like suddenly you’ve gained awareness, fully conscious of everything that’s just happened.

You twist your head around, searching for the body of your captor, only to spot a bloody streak across the concrete floor. “Where is he?” You ask, breathless, throat all raspy and sore from being choked.

“Shh, it’s okay. He’s gone. Dwight’s putting him in the van,” Negan assures you, helping to shift you out of the metal chair, figuring your legs would hurt from being confined. “Wanna know what I’ll do to him?”

You find yourself nodding, head coming down to rest on Negan’s shoulder. He smooths his hand over your hair, nails gently scratching at your scalp, brushing the strands back. His other hand rests on your knees, trying to help stretch your muscles after being confined for so long.

“I’m gonna cut his tongue out, and let him choke on the blood,” Negan whispers into your ear, “Then, Lucille’s gonna smash every bone in his body, starting from the feet. Might leave just his head behind. Throw it out into the yard with the other walkers.”

It’s surprisingly relaxing, like you’re being told a quiet story, or a lullaby. Suddenly, the concrete floor is the most comfortable thing you’ve ever sat on, and even the stench of blood isn’t of concern. It’s all perfect.

“You’ll let me help?” You ask, a hopeful lilt to your tired voice.

Negan runs his hand down to your neck, thumb rubbing over the deep bruise marred over your skin. “No, baby. We’ll get you home and into bed. Let me handle this.”

You can’t find the strength to protest, not opposed to the idea of curling up in bed. Everything still felt hazy, and you were all lightheaded, so you doubted that you’d be much help, anyway.

So, Negan lifts you up into his arms, subsequently getting blood all over your clothes. Not that it mattered, anyway. You didn’t mind.

Having somebody who loves you enough to kill was plenty.

#negan smith x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #twd x you #negan smith #the walking dead #negan smith x you

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bonezone44 · 5 months ago

Text

Beneath the Mire (18+)

Ezra x Swamp Monster!afab!Reader

Word Count: 3162

(Ezra img from pedropascalsx)

Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. Tags: Non-con somnophilia. Blowjob. Unprotected p-in-v.

Summary: You're a human-turned-swamp monster and a man crashes into your corner of the bayou. 😈

A/N: I'm too lazy to edit this, lol ! ENJOY!

—--

Heavy storm clouds rolled inward and a highly motivated Ezra couldn't get back to shore fast enough.

He had been out on his jon boat in the bay, fishing all by his lonesome and without much to show for it. Some days, the fish just aren't very hungry, he reasoned to himself. But it was no matter to him. He was the kind of man who loved to bask in the biosphere. He let the sound of the swaying grasses on the shoreline brush along his eardrums. He watched herons snip at bugs in the water and gobble them up, one by one. The chirping crickets and singing birds added to the chorus of croaking toads hopping around and splashing in the mud puddles. He enjoyed the symphony so much, he allowed it to lull him to sleep, slouching in his seat with his fishing rod in his hand. He figured the tug of a fine catch would rouse him from slumber. He wasn't even that tired. He only wanted to rest his eyes. But as he said himself, some days the fish just aren't very hungry.

Ezra was instead awoken by a loud clap of thunder. His eyes grew big and worried when he saw darkness engulfing the southern horizon. He scrambled to the back of his boat and started his trolling motor. It was weak and feeble against the untenable waters and he barely made it out of the bay before the rain. The rain, when it fell, fell like it was being poured outta buckets and straight onto Ezra’s head. He tried as he could to move his boat steady, but the wind and waves tossed him up and down and around in all the wrong directions. “This is not the end of my tale! This is not how I depart!” he growled to himself with crazed ferocity. One hand gripped the aluminum seat beneath him and the other clung to the starboard edge. He cursed the storm. He cursed God. He cursed his own dead Momma for testing him with such a treacherous event. He swore to not only survive, but to become stronger, more cunning. He swore to check the goddamn weather report before falling asleep all alone on his boat. "Goddamn piece a shit trolling motor," he groused, adding that he'd buy a better one of those if he survived, as well.

His heart and body were long weary by the time he made it into your little corner of the bayou. And when he crashed against the knobby roots of one of your favorite cypress trees, his spirit seemed to vanish right before your very eyes.

----

You had been in the swamp for many years now. Too many to count. You had been banished there at a young age, having been deemed unfit for the world of humans. But the swamps… they loved you. They embraced you. They evolved you into something wretched and powerful.

It began in the mazey waters of Louisiana's bayous. In the thick clouds of humidity that soaked the air between the land and sky. That was where you transformed-- where you were born anew. Your skin grew a coat of slimy, green algae and fuzzy gray lichen. All the hair on your head had fallen out and was replaced with short grasses and leafy clovers. Your eyes developed second eyelids: A yellow film that illuminated the world around you in darkness--even allowing you to navigate late at night and through debris-filled, murky waters.

Your friends were the alligators. Together you hunted deer and wild turkeys. After so many meals of bloodied meat, your teeth turned sharp and vicious. You could stick out your tongue and taste your prey in the damp, night air--taste their pheromones and dander. You would sense them from miles away and then go running madly through the bogs, chasing with pleasured vigor until you bit into their flesh and rendered them asunder.

Parts of you were still human, though. Your intelligent mind. Your lonely heart. In your early years as a newborn creature of the swamp, you would sneak around the towns and watch them–the people–talking to one another and going about their days. You would listen to them tell stories and talk shop and chit chat. You would hide in the tall grasses or beneath the shoreline piers. You would follow the fishermen in their boats, the lovers in their canoes, swimming with your alligator friends through the waterways. And when your body burned and craved for human touch, you would wrap your legs around the knobby roots of the cypress trees and rub yourself til your body shook and both your eyelids drifted shut.

But too much time around humans only made you ache more for them, so you resigned yourself to nature. Where they had banished you. And where you believed you truly belonged.

—-

You were relaxing in your shack when you first saw his approach. You loved storm season. The summer heat would give way to cool breezes and chilly water would shower down from the heavens. And if the winds were gusty and there were flashes of lightning? That just made it all the more exciting for you. So your eyes were already watching the rain show, enraptured in the chaos of nature when you saw a man in his boat intrude upon your swamp. Your home. Your safe haven from the human world that had rejected you. You wanted to stomp and roar. You wanted to bare your teeth and swing your paws and shove him and his boat back out to where he came from.

But something inside of you sank into your belly when you saw him crash. Something tender and fearful swelled behind your vision. You weren't sure why, but you needed to make sure this man would be okay.

You pulled him from the wreckage and dragged him to your hovel. It was made from parts of broken boats and sheets of metal that you had collected over the years. It wasn't much, but it was dry enough for a human like him. You rested him gently on your bed woven from moss.

Outside the storm wreaked havoc, but as you closed the door to your little shack beneath the strong canopy of cypress trees, a calm and peaceful quiet took over. Droplets of rain sang sporadically on your tin roof. The ground beneath you was covered in planks of wood decking that you had tied together with strong kudzu vines. Rusted scraps of metal hung like chandeliers from the ceiling--like moss hanging from the oak trees.

The poor man was out cold. Well, that was how the saying used to go anyway, when you were around the humans more. It had been many years since you had seen a man this up-close. You had forgotten all about the pores that dotted their faces. The hairs that protruded from around their mouths and chins. And even how their noses had hair coming out of them, too.

This man's hair had a blonde patch above his right temple. And little white hairs peppered along his jaw. He had a pretty nose with a strong curve resembling the bow of a boat all turned upside down. His top lip looked like it had been curled and there was a divot at the center of his bottom lip that was deep enough to hold a whole puddle of water in it. There was a thin scar on his left cheek that looked like a fish hook. You traced it with your finger--leaving a trail of slime behind. Your touch caused no reaction from him.

You wonder how he got so far from the rest of civilization. Maybe he was like you–all alone and aching. Who would go fishing all by themselves when the cloud patterns foretold stormy weather? Who could be so oblivious to the dangers of nature? You held his jaw and brushed your thumb along his cheek. This poor man… he had to be pained. He had to be hurting. There had to be kinship between the two of your despondent hearts.

Why else would your beloved swamp allow a man to trespass its tangled gates?

You sighed with relief.

“A gift,” you smiled to yourself.

At long last, the swamp that had first embraced you so long ago has offered you a companion. Another banished human to mold and articulate into an amalgamation of photosynthesizer and carnivorous beast. Another banished human to sate the needs of its first ape-turned-slimy-hybrid (you).

You leaned forward and pressed your lips into his. His soft, dry lips. You giggled when you pulled back–his mouth now green with your algae. He would be even more appealing once the swamps began to turn him. But for now, it was enough to have him donning a small coating of you. You kissed his cheeks. His forehead. The empty patch along his jaw. Each caress of your lips grew the fire between your thighs.

His neck was long and his veins were like pulsing rivers--veins that disappeared beneath a soaking wet t-shirt that clung to his skin. You looked down further and--oh! Right. Men have nipples, too. You saw them budding hard like cypress roots and something about it made your lips point and pout--made your teeth want to bite and chew. And although his face remained expressionless, you knew your betrothed. You knew he would enjoy your affection. He would understand your ache and your need–for it exists the same in him. It has to! How could your swamp gift you with anything less?

You tongued his right nipple through his shirt. You pinched and toyed with it, rubbed it in circles with the pad of your finger. It made you burn, but you didn’t want to stop. It had been so so long since you were with another human. It had been so so long since you allowed yourself to ache in this way. You wanted to revel in the rarity. Bask in your hunger. You wrapped your lips around his left nipple and sucked it into your mouth, pulling it between your teeth. You sucked in the salty, brackish water from the cloth of his shirt. You huffed. It wasn’t enough. You pulled his shirt upward and there it was–bare for you! A deep russet color and sparsely circled by coarse dark hairs. Oh! The taste of his skin was something immaculate. You sucked his nipple into your mouth again and pulled your head back, yanking it with you—

!!!!

His body twitched and you immediately released him. Air caught in your throat as you froze in place awaiting his waking eyes, but…

Nothing.

You sighed in both disappointment and relief. You wanted to meet his eyes and hear his voice, but you were also very pleased to continue sating your curiosity. You were too eager to cease indulging your human-side’s desires.

His chest moved slowly and evenly with his breaths. His belly, too. His arms laid flaccid at his sides and you picked up one of his big hands and held it in your own, wondering how he got so many little knicks and scars and calluses. You kissed each one–coating them in your slime. Soon it would be his slime, too.

You laid his hand back down and that was when you saw it.

Something you had long forgotten about.

Something hypnotizing and stupefying.

Something that... bulged below his waistband.

Saliva pooled on your tongue. You tugged and yanked desperately on his pants–which were soaking wet and clinging tightly to his skin. You grappled with the strange fastenings that kept them secure. You fiddled and fussed until finally his bottom was as bare as his torso and the bulging thing you desperately sought was set free.

You swallowed thickly at the sight of it. Nearly as russet as his nipples. The muscle stood tall and thick, engorged with rushing blood. A bulging sack of skin hung around its base. Your body shook with temptation and confusion. You wanted to swallow it whole and you wanted it deep between your legs. You wanted to lick and taste the skin and massage it desperately with your hands. You rested your cheek against it, longingly. Hungrily. Cravingly. You breathed deep his cloudy musk with your nostrils–moaning and pouting to yourself.

You positioned your head above his cock and wrapped your long, forked tongue around it. Viscous saliva rained from your lips as you licked and squeezed his hardness. The world around you disappeared as you drank and devoured. Warmth expelled from your cheeks, heating the room. He was delicious! He was succulent! The salty syrup that oozed from his tip made you dizzy with lust. You sucked him all the way into your mouth so you could feel the fullness of him–taste him on every sensor in your maw.

His flavor was elysian.

You looked up briefly from your inebriated haze and gasped–his heavy cock falling from your tongue.

Your man! Your betrothed!

His lids had risen to reveal blurry brown eyes!

“My gift!” you cheered.

He didn’t respond–not verbally anyway. But his eyes did move from side to side. His breathing was heavier than it had been before, but he was not fraught with panic. He blinked.

“My gift!” You praised again and kissed his cheeks with your wet lips. “You’re safe!” Tears welled in your eyes and you felt as if something was soon to burst from your chest. “You’re home now,” you smiled and pressed your cheek against his own. Small noises escaped his lips, but no words. You pulled back and saw his brows pull tight and his lips twitch. “It’s okay,” you soothed. “We’re not alone anymore.” You leaned forward again and kissed him more deeply this time, slipping your tongue into his mouth to taste him. He choked and coughed and you startled. “I’m sorry, my gift!” You shrank away with shame. “My-my tongue is different than it was when I… when I was… just a human like you.” Your face shined bright. “Soon, your tongue will be just like mine!” You opened your mouth wide and let the muscle roll from your lips. It went down past your chin and you could almost touch your own chest with the forked tip. His eyes slightly widened and you threw your head back, laughing. Then his eyes looked past you, looked down between his legs and your gaze followed. You giggled shyly. “I’m sorry, my gift. I couldn’t wait. I knew you’d understand what loneliness I felt,” you sighed. You held your bottom lip with your razor-sharp teeth and your eyes glittered. “May I finish?” you asked. “The mouth between my legs is hungry, too,” you grinned. You didn’t wait for a response. You didn’t need to. You knew he’d understand.

You scurried back down his body, which had become smattered with green splotches of you, and straddled him. You pressed your clit against his thick member and moaned. “Oh, my gift, you feel so much better than the tree roots. Oh you feel so good,” you spoke through gritted fangs as you moved your hips back and forth. Your hands were planted firmly on the moss bed beneath him. The man hissed and panted–his fingers twitched. His eyes remained blurry and searching. You whimpered above him, chasing your pleasure until your insides clenched and spasmed. Waves of delight pulsed through your body and you looked at your half-naked gift with loving tenderness and passionate desire.

“I waited so long for you,” you said tearily. “My gift. My love.” You leaned forward and kissed his lips. As you moved your hips, you felt the tip of his member catch on your hole. It startled you–it invited another appetite for feasting. Your upper half rested against his torso as you reached down and took his member in your hand. Your hole drooled with slippery filth and when you sank onto his cock, loud squelches echoed around the metal walls of your hovel–along with your gift’s deep, guttural groan. You whimpered, “Oh, your voice! I want to hear you. I want to hear everything!” You bounced your lower body up and down, maneuvering in whatever way made him make the most noise. Pained and raspy sounds expelled from his pursed lips. His breaths were shallow and rhythmic. “Is this good? Is this good, my love?” you asked with your chest high. He nodded and you shook your head with glee. “Yes!” you hissed. “My gift loves me! My gift adores me! I am his gift, too!” His thick fingers wrapped around your slimy thighs and although his grip was weak, it was fervent. He nodded more steadily and you fell to him–cheek-to-cheek–and rode his thick cock–chest-to-chest. “Forever, my gift!” you hissed in his ear. “Together until the end of time!”

He groaned and grunted, although you were doing all of the real work. His hips were hardly thrusting, but his noises were that of agreement. “S–ss—” was the closest thing to words he expressed, but you knew he wanted you. He wanted you just as deeply. Just as infinitely.

You cried out sharply with your orgasm–a tension snapping from your body and billowing out. You sighed delightfully and rested your body on top of your new companion.

“...no…” he whispered.

“What?” you were shocked and excited to hear real words.

“....d-don’t…” he swallowed. “.... stop…. don’t… stop.”

You leaned back with confusion.

“k-keep…. goin….” he rasped.

The realization hit you and you bashfully covered your face. “I’m so sorry, my gift!” You giggled. “Now it’s your turn!” You reached down with your free hand, keeping your eyes on his. You gripped his hardness, which was coated in your green mucky slick, and mimicked the movements of your hips. You moved your hand up and down as you stared into each other’s eyes.

“yes… yes… yes…” he whispered into your lips until suddenly his eyes squeezed shut.

You looked down and a creamy white ooze dribbled heavily from the tip of his member. You could taste his salt by simply sticking your tongue in the air–but it wasn’t enough. You licked up his release as it mixed with the remains of your own. So delicious! Every part of him made you hunger.

You sighed contentedly. He seemed rather content, too, as far as you could tell from his soft eyes and deep breaths. “It is good to rest after a satisfying meal,” you told him as you laid your head on his chest. “When the storm is over, we’ll add your boat to our home. And I will show you how to hunt the deer and you will meet all of my friends and we will be very happy.” You wrapped your arm around him and snuggled close. “You are my gift and I am your gift, too.”

++++++++++

#ezra x reader #ezra x afab!reader

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raazberry · 1 year ago

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charlotte doodle ^_^

#i'm still trying to figure out procreate #like it looks so easy but i'm very confused still 😭😭#hopefully drawing a billion charlotte imgs a day helps me figure out how to draw ppl... and procreate also #i love my girl #hello charlotte #my art

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yersang-dreams · 9 months ago

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oh and if it's okay to request twice, could you do hcs for killua with an s/o who at first, when they met, (hunter exam, she met gon on the boat with the other two) seemed really shy/introverted, never really talked, and a lot weaker than him and gon, but overtime as they get closer reader slowly opens up and she turns out to be really outgoing, affectionate and silly? (A big troublemakerr) Especially when they start dating, very cuddly and loving. It's like the total opposite of readers personality at the start of the friendship. Also ends up stronger than him loll. Fem! Reader pls, Thank youuu <333

It's completely fine requesting twice! Or thrice! I'll be glad to make it for you! Also would you like a name? Wouldn't want to just call you anon.

AU: None

Characters: Killua Zoldyck

OS/HCS/IMG: Head-Cannons

Genre: Pure fluff!

Killua met you on the way to the exam site not knowing that the exam already started the moment they boarded the ship

It was before a storm came, you were just spacing out looking in the ocean horizon but when the captain said that there was going to be a storm that they're gonna cross

While the ship shook roughly the only unbothered ones was Kurapika laying down a hammock, Leorio eating a green apple until he said it's sour, Gon helping the men drink water and medicine, Killua just chilling leaning on the wooden wall with his arms behind his head, and you just watching Gon take care of the seasick men

That was later on until the captain called you five to the helm, all of you introduced each other but it took at least 2 minutes for you to speak since you really don't speak much

Killua saw that you are weak, and rather introverted, although you still participated in the Hunter exam, he admires you a bit for that but you're weak what if you get hurt?

He immediately shook that idea of his head when he thought about you getting hurt later on you all arrive on the island as the captain talked to Gon where to go

Well you know the drill already, but when all you got trapped in a circular tower, and when the time came where it was your turn to fight one of the prisoners

You luckily won because it was a gamble, you have no experience in fights but gambling? you have experience in that area

Timeskip to where you finally have established a relationship with Killua and the Chimera Arc, when Kite ended up dying by Pitou

You ended up becoming traumatized because of it, you slowly inched to having a panic attack

Killua being the soft boyfriend he is, comforted you the best he can as he sensed that you are near a panic attack, since you saw Kite as a father figure

Throughout the days you have been with Killua and Gon, the Greed Island, Chimera incident, and the incident where Gon died and also the Hunter Association President election

You grew stronger and became even more out-going, your shy and introverted personality disappeared

You also turned out to be very affectionate and loving towards to everyone you trust even Killua!

Killua was flabbergasted when you become stronger than him, who's trained by highly feared and well known assassins? he couldn't help but leave his jaw down the floor due to shock-

He ALWAYS always tries to shove you away when you tightly hug him or hold his hand because he's shy- but ends up failing because you always give him those puppy eyes

In other words, you love Killua and Killua loves you! Even if he denies it, Gon is always there to say for you<3

I apologize for taking a while to post this😭 My phone got confiscated by my mom before I could finish it but I got it back! So here you go!

#✩*⢄⢁【 inezdeortiz 】⡈⡠*✩#killua x reader #killua zoldyck #hunter x hunter

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estrellami-1 · 20 days ago

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WAIT also 23 bc it's my favorite number (i couldn't possibly tell you why at this point)

Alrighty! My apologies for the delay. Life’s a bitch, but then again we knew this. 23 is “Bruises” by Lewis Capaldi. Should’ve known Angst City would’ve somehow gotten me to write angst. Fuck you, babe (I love you).

“So, Steve,” Dr. Trang asked, “how long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

He lets out a dry bark of a laugh. “Since I’ve seen him? ‘Bout two hours, I saw his picture in the checkout line at Walmart.” His lip curls. He huffs out a breath, shakes his head. “I can’t get rid of him. And the worst part is I don’t want to. But what am I supposed to do when he up and-” he flings a hand out. His breath catches in his chest. His eyes burn. He shakes his head again. Takes a stuttering breath. “Since I’ve been face-to-face with him? ‘Bout a month, give or take.” He drums his fingers on the brown leather armchair he’s sitting in. Crosses his legs, looks to his right, out the window. It overlooks a park. It’s empty; the middle of winter and a dreary day to boot.

“A month?” She confirms, scribbling something in her notebook. “And how did that happen?”

He grits his teeth. “He fuckin’ called me, whaddya think? I’m a fuckin’ dog and he’s wavin’ a treat in my face and I’m supposed to ignore him?” He scoffs. “Fat chance.”

Dr. Trang doesn’t sigh. She’s too professional for that. “I can only help you if you want to be helped, Steve. Can you honestly say that you want to move on from him?”

Steve thinks. About the beginning of their relationship; how sweet Eddie was, how understanding, how gentle. How, towards the middle, he started to shift; became more demanding, more domineering. Finally, in the end, Robin pulled him out, showed him how it looked from an outside perspective. It was the shift Steve needed to end it, to pack up his things and move in with Robin until he got back on his feet and found an apartment not too far from hers.

He thinks about the terrible, torturous, wonderful things Eddie still manages to make him feel. Fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets, toes curling, fucking hair sensitive to the touch, a thousand little pinpricks of feeling wrapped in Eddie’s fist.

He gets lost in it, he knows; lost in the feeling, the emotions that only he is feeling, since every time Eddie kicks him out without remorse. He’s just a hole for Eddie to fuck but god does he know how to make it good.

“I know I shouldn’t,” he sighs. “But I want him. It’s like… everything makes sense when we’re together. Like there’s something in the water that makes me come running back the second he texts.” He shakes his head. “I feel like we were good together, in the beginning. And we could be good together again. I just… don’t know what changed. What about him changed.”

“Sometimes people change for no discernible reason,” Dr. Trang says, really showing off that psychology degree. “Sometimes, because of that change, people grow apart. Sometimes they don’t, but they become wrong for each other.” She nods at Steve. “It’s up to you to figure out what you want to do. If you want to change, if you want to keep seeing him, if you want to stay the same, or if you want to stop seeing him. That’s a question only you can answer. Why don’t you think on that for the week, and come back to me next week with an answer?”

Steve nods. Knows immediately he’ll bullshit an answer the next time he sees her. “Will do,” he lies, shaking her hand and leaving.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Eddie: img.2437

Eddie: you have ten minutes.

Steve stares for a minute. Sighs, texts back.

Steve: I’ll be there in seven.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #Spotify wrapped #OOF this was a bitch and a half #toxic relationship #toxic love #tw toxic relationship #tw toxic behavior #angst #tw angst #starambles

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