#ILL DRAW HIM PROPERLY LATER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[eclown4hire]

Please be a lame old man. Please.

[eydilily]

(look at what i have to offer) — this is the spider's nest.

[birdricks]

theyre running to the gay club. or smth

[chiamew]

this took seven minutes its just a scribble but I'm so obsessed with his design I had to sketch it. and I gave him fangs because catboy

[we-have-strange-dreams]

[ID: Two cartoony digital sketches featuring characters from Honkai Star Rail

Image 1: Yunli from the neck up with an unimpressed face saying " My grandpa says ur a bitch." With 'Bitch' underlined and in bold.

Image 2: Yunli with her back to the veiwer. A confused Dan Heng stares down at her, blank faced. End I.D]

Silly. Anyway. Yunli is so cute!! I can't wait to see her in game!

[theemeraldpupwave]

Listen if I'm gonna be cringe I'm gonna be free while I do it

Anyways heres my admin oc/self insert that I made just so I can ship with Romeo because I'm soooo normal about him featuring a couple of drawings I did a few months ago, one of which is a TV Girl album cover re-draw

[boyswillbedogz]

my son

[phrumbs]

sketch.........

[megabuild]

(to any character i like) i would like to award you the highest honour i know. (needlessly complex design that appeals to only me)

[ledesaid]

Billy has a fever🌡️

♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-♦-

Well, it's official. He doesn't have much luck today. Well, he hasn't had much luck in recent years. He was barely eleven years old (ten years and seven months) and was delirious, alone, in his small corner of the world.

Billy had been proud of having avoided getting sick until this point because he already knew what would happen next: he would have to turn himself in to social services so they could take him to the hospital and then he would escape again. Complicated. Not many had luck in that last part of the plan; he had friends who, after that, couldn't escape the system again.

The problem was that he barely had enough strength to move an arm, he couldn't get up, much less go out into the streets in search of a police officer or a precinct. This left him with two options: call the League on his communicator or use his chalk to open a portal.

The cold December wind whipped against his window hard enough to drown out his thoughts. But one broke through strongly enough to make him decide.

How was he going to bring one of his colleagues to the little hole he tried to call home?

Well, is the portal.

Billy had an emergency circle that would take him to a beautiful island hidden somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Titan Gaia had entrusted him with that place if he fell ill, and now was the time. He could barely distinguish the symbols the chalk left behind, but he was sure he had written beloved caretaker of green life. What he wasn't sure about was if he had properly delimited the spatial jump.

Maybe that's why he was looking at a redheaded woman before passing out instead of a thirty-foot-tall humanoid mountain.

"Well, this isn't something you see every day... Who are you, kid?"

Billy can't respond, and the next thing he knows is that he wakes up in a warm room, fortunately without windows being battered by intense snow. Very clean, clear walls, drawings of plants on the walls, but it wasn't the hospital.

Then he notices that he was in a bed shaped like a giant bunny, no, it really looked like a giant bunny plush with a mattress in the middle of it. A little madness.

A soft, warm, and fluffy madness.

By this time, Billy notices his fever has disappeared. Yes, his head hurts slightly and he has an IV connected to his arm, but he feels strong enough to patrol for a couple of days.

"How do you feel, little fern?"

Billy: Little fern?

"We've taken care of you like a fern, and Harley wanted to nickname you that until we knew your name."

Billy: Thanks, I'm Billy.

Pamela: Good, I'm Pamela, and soon you'll meet Harley, she's my wife. She's a bit energetic, so I apologize in advance for the noise, but that's how she shows her affection.

Billy doesn't know quite what to do or say. If the portal had failed and brought him in front of this woman, it would be hard to explain how it was possible, and escaping would be a bit complicated until he could call the captain.

A wonder indeed was his situation.

Pamela: Don't think too loudly, Billy, we're not going to turn you over to social services or the police.

Billy: Really? * he said a bit confused * Why?

Pamela: We're not exactly lovers of that side of the law, but we know how to recognize a kid in trouble who needs a hand.

Billy grabbed the soft, fluffy sheets that covered him tightly. It was time.

Billy: Thank you very much, really. If you give me a couple of hours, I'll be gone and you'll never hear from me again. I promise.

The woman raised an eyebrow in disbelief, possibly, Billy wondered if he had said something wrong, but he didn't understand exactly what. Was a couple of hours too much? He could really leave in just twenty minutes.

Billy: But I can leave earlier if...

Pamela: Sorry, kid, but it's too soon for you to get out of bed. You came to me with a 103° fever, delirious...

Before Billy could ask about what he might have said, a door was heard slamming not far from the room where Billy had slept and, a few seconds later, a sing-songy and shrill voice made them look. Blonde with a high ponytail, the one and only Harley Quinn. Billy finally put the pieces together, so that's why the names and appearances seemed familiar. Don't blame him, he didn't associate Pamela with Poison Ivy, maybe because he associated the color with Martians... it was strange. He was so exposed to extraordinary and impossible things that he was indifferent to being excited by mere skin color or an ex-supervillain in front of him.

Harley: I'm glad you're okay, little lost boy.

Billy: Uh... Th-Thanks.

The black-haired boy was being hugged tightly by the blonde woman in one of the sincerest embraces Billy could ever remember.

Pamela: Let him breathe, love, Billy still has the IV...

Harley: Oh, right! Sorry... Is your name Billy? Hi, I'm Harley Quinn. Do you want a big plate of waffles with ice cream, toast, strawberries and cream, and maple syrup?

Maybe it was the residual effects of his fever, the hunger of possibly four days, or the warm hug, but Billy nodded his head in affirmation, feeling that if he opened his mouth, he wouldn't be able to avoid crying in front of this warm couple.

[ash-rigby]

Sharp Fangs, Soft Thighs (Naga) [M/M] [Trans]

Featured Characters: Male, Indian human and a trans male naga.

Description: Ranjit finally convinces his naga partner Srikanth to bite and inject him with aphrodisiac venom, with the stipulation of the bites themselves being gentle. However, Srikanth perhaps goes a little overboard with how many there are.

Contains: Biting, Aphrodisiac Venom, Long Tongue, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Dual Cocks (Tdick), Mild Squirting, Multiple Orgasms, Excessive Cum, Mild Cumflation, Mild Breeding Kink.

Note For Trans Readers: Srikanth, the Naga in this story, is explicitly trans. His chest goes undescibed. The words “hole” and “slit” are used for his genitalia as well as “cocks” to describe his dual bottom growth. There’s a mild breeding kink element involving him, so if this would upset you in any way, then consider skipping this one. I have other stories with trans men that don't have this, so check out my masterlist to find them!

Completion Date: December 29th, 2024

Word Count: 4594

-

It was reasonable to fear the bite of a snake and utterly twisted to be aroused by the thought of one. Ranjit was well aware of that. And yet, as he sat on the floor with his back against Srikanth’s large, muscular, scaled body, he couldn’t help the shiver of excitement that ran through him.

One merely had to look at a Naga to know their special qualities. Their alluring coils and vibrant scales. But to be their lover afforded you a last, secret pleasure; very intimate knowledge of their secondary venom gland. A sharp, deep injection of potent aphrodisiac instead of their typically lethal toxin.

Srikanth had teased Ranjit with that for a long time, only occasionally grazing those fangs over his skin as they fucked. Sometimes he would press them hard into his flesh, quickening Ranjit’s breath and pulse before pulling away with an infuriatingly arousing laugh. Never taking the full plunge. Ranjit had assumed this was a game the Naga wanted to play, to whittle down his sanity until he got what he wanted; wanton begging to be bitten.

Doing so had not gone as expected—at all. As Ranjit straddled Srikanth, grinding his hips so his cock slid against the wet slit as he whined with need about his desire, his partner’s demeanor shifted to discomfort. Then those bright reptilian eyes brimmed with the first tears Ranjit had ever seen in them and his heart just about leapt out of his throat. Needless to say, they had stopped and later talked at length about what had happened.

Ranjit was Srikanth’s first human lover, following a number of more robust Nagas and creatures. For all his preening over his size, strength and evident deadliness, Srikanth had been left trembling at the thought of hurting him. Breaking bones within an ill-timed coil, losing himself in feral arousal and biting too deeply, drawing from the wrong gland. His shaking abated slightly at Ranjit’s touch, held by his arms and gently reassured.

“You’re not an animal,” Ranjit had told him, still shocked by the shattering of his lover’s front and pained by how little credit Srikanth afforded himself. “I trust you…but this doesn’t have to happen tonight...or ever if that’s what you want. We—we’ll talk about it properly.”

Ranjit readily resigned himself to the possibility that they would never do it; Srikanth’s comfort had to come first over his fantasies. But after a period of careful planning and negotiation, it was time. He found himself looking down into Srikanth’s eager, beautiful face as the Naga crawled forward, head situating between his spread thighs.

“Only if it is done as gently as I can manage”, had been the stipulation. “Nothing rough so long as my fangs are out”. 

Somehow, that idea only excited Ranjit more; a slow sink of fangs that would have him feeling their full length as they penetrated him. Intimate and lingering as the heat he craved entered his blood. Spreading. Claiming. Influencing. He trembled as Srikanth’s hands touched his legs.

Kisses littered his stomach, otherworldly green eyes finding his as he swallowed, his cock already twitching.

“You’re ready?” Srikanth murmured, lips brushing Ranjit’s skin like butterfly wings as he spoke. His fangs were thrillingly close. Arousing images of them entering deeply in a sudden frenzy filled Ranjit’s mind and his heart began to pound—it wouldn’t be like that, but fuck.

Just do it, he thought. Now. Bite.

“Yes. For so…so long.”

“Patience,” Srikanth said with a gentle smile. “Let’s…work you up to it.”

His mouth found Ranjit’s dick within moments. He kissed the head, chuckling at the instant pulse such a simple action elicited before teasing the slit. The long tongue then slid up the underside of his shaft, cradling and stroking all at once. It wrapped around him in a soft, wet clasp, the coil beginning to move slowly up and down in short passes. He moaned lowly as his cock throbbed itself to half-hardness.

It was incredible, but not enough. Ranjit typically took a while to find that coveted full, deliciously solid erection, but the anticipation for what was to come was making it all the more difficult. Srikanth’s tongue twisted and drooled all over him, every futile twitch of his cock filling him further with need.

Ranjit’s breath stuttered when Srikanth released him, locking their gazes silently. He watched his lover’s mouth open, twin fangs extending further and dripping with a clear but somewhat rosy-coloured fluid. Srikanth lowered them to Ranjit’s thigh, dragging them across sweat-beaded skin before pulling away and moving to do the same to the other leg.

Ranjit panted. He felt himself grow minutely harder just from the suggestion; he was mad for this. Srikanth continued to tease. Grazing, pressing in without piercing, nipping with his lips. Deny, deny, and deny again. A high-pitched, pathetic whimper escaped Ranjit for the first time in his adult life.

“Please…please…please, please, please,” he begged, half-erection weeping.

The tips of Srikanth’s fangs stilled against him. There was a careful, slowly building pressure. Fuck, yes. Ranjit sucked in a breath at the sharp sting and released it as a moan as he finally felt the pop of his skin breaking and the gentle but deep bite into his thigh.

The effect was instant; warmth pumping from the site and through Ranjit’s body like a rapidly descending fever. A sweet, floral scent that clung to the back of his throat came to him. His head swum, his heart starting to hammer against his ribcage. It was all he could hear for a moment. The heavy thumping in his ears; a pulse that swiftly worked its way into his cock. Heat pooled with greatest intensity there as he felt it swell, untouched, until it strained in the air.

Srikanth’s mouth, which had lingered against Ranjit’s thigh, retracted. He licked at the punctures, digging in as he lapped up the small amount of blood. Ranjit jolted and cried out—it felt as good as being fucked. Precum beaded at his tip and ran down his shaft.

Srikanth looked sidelong at it. Without a word, he caught the fluid with his tongue, tracing its path back to Ranjit’s flushed head. He closed his lips around it, holding his lover’s gaze intensely as he slowly took him into his throat.

Ranjit couldn’t stop the loud, desperate sounds from escaping him and his eyes rolled. It was almost embarrassing; he usually only moaned like that when he was about to cum. But every second of his inches being claimed was euphoric. He felt himself leaking just from that single plunge, bucking his hips to get the last bit of his cock deeply seated inside.

That sudden move made Srikanth grunt in surprise and it spurred him to begin bobbing his head. Ranjit groaned, his feet scrambling as he fought the need to fully writhe. He might have cried if any movement accidentally pulled him free of the wet heat engulfing him.

Srikanth was merciless, taking him fast and deep. He caressed and fondled Ranjit’s balls as he sucked. Moans vibrated his yielding throat each time he reached the hilt and buried his nose into coarse,musky hair.

The venom coursed through Ranjit, working to ignite him. He was hyper-aware of every pleasure center in his body whether it was receiving attention or not; even that sweet spot deep in his ass seemed to be lightly pulsating with every heavy throb of his cock. It had never been this hard before. Bulging hot between his trembling legs. He raised weak hands to Srikanth’s head.

“S-s-slow d-down,” he begged. “It’s alrea—dy s-so—ahhhh!”

He went disobeyed, chest heaving as he was ruined far too quickly under the venom’s influence. His head fell back as he loudly moaned, hips snapping up against Srikanth’s face as he came in rapid pumps. Srikanth swallowed around him and milked out his last drops before pulling away.

Ranjit panted, his face flushing with mortification.

“Fuck…s-sorry.”

He received a grin. “No worries…we’ll just have to go again.”

Ranjit felt Srikanth’s breath at his thigh. He wasn’t really about to—? Fangs dug into him once more, close to the first bite which still arousingly ached. A drawn-out moan sounded from him as a second rush flowed through his body. It mingled with the first—two clashing electrical storms amplifying one another—and went straight to his relentless erection.

“Th—that won’t help me la—last much…mmmm!”

He could feel his cock jolting in the air with immense, fervent pulses. It somehow felt like it had swollen thicker. The sensation of that alone had him quivering on the edge of a second orgasm. Looking down, he watched its wild twitching for a moment as Srikanth neared it once more; mouth open, tongue reaching. The ghost of a warm exhale left him gasping.

“I’m going to lose it,” he thought, his own heartbeat a hypnotic, frantic thump in his ears.

Ranjit felt dizzy, a tingling heat running out to his extremities and briefly numbing them before rushing to his groin. Precum spurted from him as it did, landing on Srikanth’s extended tongue as it approached and cradled his head. The fluid flowed in odd excess, dripping over the sides of the teasing muscle. It didn’t even move, holding still as half-lidded eyes regarded him. Ranjit whimpered; already feeling his balls tightening from the simple touch.

He grit his teeth. Don’t cum yet. Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t—.

“AHHH—fuck!”

Stars burst in Ranjit’s eyes as Srikanth took him into his mouth again. For a moment, his awareness faded solely to the intense pleasure enveloping his cock and the wild pulse that had claimed him from its tip to his hole. Vision blank. Mind empty. Otherwise insensate. He was only his flushed, straining dick and the whole of him was being swallowed up. Sweltering. Wet.

Ranjit came back to the sound of his own whimpering moans as Srikanth resumed his brutal pace. He couldn’t take it. Couldn’t hold it in. It only took a few quick plunges before cum was pumping up through his thick shaft and down Srikanth’s throat.

The Naga pulled off of him, but Ranjit’s release didn’t let up. His nails dug into the fevered meat of his thighs as continual shocks of pleasure kept him intermittently spurting, his lower body quivering with each miniature orgasm. He could feel Srikanth watching, entranced by the sight of his lover’s swollen cock continuing to burst into the air. It eventually calmed; only on the spilling front. The hardness did not abate even a fraction, every throb broadcasting a mindless greed.

More, more, more, more.

Ranjit barely had a moment to catch his breath before he was feeling another bite.

Then a second.

He came with the third, untouched and wailing. There was so much venom rushing through him. It was like his brain was swimming in it, making him dizzy and blurring any thought that wasn’t about cumming again. A pleasure-induced drunkenness that came with all the right cravings.

Srikanth didn’t use his mouth again. Instead he slid up beside Ranjit and snaked an arm behind the small of his back. He took his other hand and ran his fingers, feather light, over Ranjit’s chest. His caresses paused at Ranjit’s navel, inches from his insatiable, pounding cock.

“P-please,” Ranjit begged, trembling. “T-touch…touch…tooouch.”

A deep chuckle rumbled through him.

“Lost our vocabulary, have we?” Srikanth asked. Ranjit choked on a moan as he felt deft fingers wrap around his shaft. “But not our manners. And that’s all that matters.”

Srikanth started stroking, sliding his palm over the slick mess of saliva and precum. The sound of it was wet and absolutely filthy. Ranjit’s head dropped back onto the muscular, scaly body behind him and Srikanth readily began to kiss and mouth at his exposed neck. He swallowed against the amorous lips and tongue, breath hitching when he felt the graze of a fang; it brought on yet another orgasm. Thick cum audibly hit the floor and Srikanth didn’t pause for a second.

Ranjit’s cock remained full, hot, and needy. It continued its frenetic pulse in Srikanth’s hand, ready to burst again with just a few more strokes. The venom coursing through its every inch had reduced it to such an embarrassing state. So sensitive and easy. But his body’s complete loss of control was intoxicating, frivolous in its near-incessant releases. He gave an open-mouthed moan, back arching slightly as he came.

“Th-there’s so much,” he said, interrupted by a wobbly cry when the next three strokes were enough to set him off again. He shook, panting. “H-how do I keep—keep c-cumming like this? Over and over and—ahhh!”

Ranjit should have been milked dry by then. But his body just kept producing. He swore he could feel it happening as his balls had taken up a deep throb of their own, affixed in a constant risen position against his shaft. The venom’s potency had been expected. Not its ability to bend his natural functions to its lewd whims.

“For what other reason would we have this venom?” Srikanth purred in Ranjit’s ear. “But for breeding.”

Ranjit sucked in a breath, releasing it as a needy groan.

“It ensures the job. Gets. Done,” Srikanth continued, punctuating his words with swift pumps.

Another copious splatter of seed added itself to the mess on the ground. It almost seemed like a waste. Ranjit was consumed with the desire to bury himself and cum deep in Srikanth’s slit. To see it filled to leaking around him as he continuously pumped inside. That vision was the only thing his mind could focus on.

Ranjit lost count of how many times he came with Srikanth murmuring a litany of filthy words and praises between each wild, throbbing release. But then all too suddenly, the stroking stopped and the hand left him.

He whimpered, lips trembling. “Wh—no. Srikanth…please, I—.”

Ranjit felt long fingers wrap around his wrist, guiding it. His hand met something wet and hot that twitched as he made contact. In a near-daze, he lolled his head to look, finding his palm resting on Srikanth’s dripping slit.

“I’ve been doing a lot of the work here, jaanu,” Srikanth purred. “Why not return the favour for a little while?”

He was right, of course, but Ranjit couldn’t help but stare sidelong at the erection still standing eager and pulsing between his legs. There were splatters of cum everywhere, dripping off his thighs, calves, and feet. He ached to add more. There was a shift of Srikanth’s heavy lower half and Ranjit felt a scaly coil around his free hand’s arm, pinning it at his side.

“And you will leave your cock alone while you do,” Srikanth added lowly. The teasing smile was audible. “You can hold on for me, can’t you?”

Ranjit said nothing, more than a little distracted by the feeling of the gentle but deeply erotic pulses against his dampening hand. A shaking breath exited around the lump in his throat as he gave a jerky nod instead. He started stroking, briefly palming the slight mound before teasing a couple fingers over the slit. Part of him wanted to truly “return the favour” and take things tortuously slow. But he couldn’t help himself; he needed to feel his lover—even if it was with just his fingers. Srikanth gasped and moaned in his ear as he dug in deeper.

The slit opened up in response to the stroking, scales giving way to slick inner folds that twitched and parted for him. Ranjit had always loved the almost graceful motion of it. How it eagerly spread itself like that and how clearly he could see the hole. The ring gaped and quivered each time his fingertips neared it. Fluid began to leak out, warm and glistening. Ranjit could practically taste the arousal in the heady scent of it.

Srikanth’s breath stuttered as the twin nubs that were his cocks swelled out of their sheaths to their thick two inches, throbbing and dripping. Memories of rubbing his own dick against them surged in Ranjit’s mind; how he would wring a few orgasms from his lover doing so before plunging inside him. He swallowed a whimper at the phantom sensation of a clinging hole they spurred, feeling a number of heavy pulses run through his weeping length.

This venom had him nearly cumming just from a thought. If this is what losing his mind would feel like, he welcomed it.

Pausing his caresses of Srikanth’s folds, Ranjit turned his attention to his cocks. He ran his fingers over each in turn, running quick circles around the tips. They grew somehow harder, seemingly jolting into his touch. Srikanth was panting in between subdued groans and when his hips began to minutely thrust, Ranjit knew how to undo him. Taking both cocks into his hand, enveloping them in his fist, he began pumping.

“Mmm…just like that, jaanu,” Srikanth breathed. “More…faster.”

Ranjit obeyed, moving his hand in swift, short bursts. He looked at Srikanth, locking eyes as he pleasured him. It was beautiful; the pure bliss he saw there. Srikanth’s mouth was open, moans intermittently riding his quick breaths. The tight, wet heat had to feel incredible.

Again, Ranjit’s cock let its envy be known; throbbing, throbbing, throbbing. Pressure building. His eyes rolled as his tight, heavy-feeling balls shifted snugly against his shaft. Unconsciously, he tried to move his other hand to touch himself, stopped by the coil around his wrist pressing harder.

Srikanth briefly smirked through his pleasure. “Not yet…don’t you dare.”

Ranjit groaned, continuing to pump his fist. He felt Srikanth’s cocks pulsing harder as the Naga became more vocal, his cries less restrained. He tightened his grip just slightly, eliciting a gasp and a buck of his lover’s hips. Claws dug lightly into his hip as Srikanth curled forward, forcing Ranjit’s head against his collarbone. There he could faintly but clearly hear his lover’s quick heartbeat. Close…so close.

Ranjit gasped, feeling warmth travelling up through his length. No…it couldn’t be. Cum began to ooze from him without the satisfaction of an orgasm, the build-up finally becoming too much. His slit twitched, opened to the constant, slow stream that formed. It felt amazing, but it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. His cock’s pulse kept thundering as true release hovered tantalizingly out of reach.

Srikanth’s breath suddenly seized, his torso shaking for a few seconds before release gripped him and a loud moan worked its way from his throat. His cocks gave hard, rhythmic throbs in their still-moving confines, the entirety of his slit visibly going wild with them. The hole rapidly winked and clenched around nothing—nothing yet.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Srikanth chanted. Ranjit didn’t, not even letting up in pace. “Ahhh—don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m—I’m going to—going to—!”

His head snapped back and his hips jutted forward as several small but impressive spurts of clear fluid exited his intensely pulsating slit and into the air. The fountain drenched Ranjit’s thigh; some landing on his dick, mingling with the cum running down and off his aching, twitching balls. He stopped stroking Srikanth, laying there panting and too needy to stop the small, pathetic noises that escaped his parted lips.

“Ranjit.”

The sound of his name in his lover’s low, silky tone had Ranjit instantly looking into up into Srikanth’s face. Before he could give in to begging, a hand took his jaw and warm lips were on his. The kiss was far from chaste and Srikanth’s long tongue swiftly worked it’s way past Ranjit’s teeth and into his throat. The muscle undulated slowly and deeply. He could barely breathe. But all too suddenly, he felt a familiar sensation building inside him. He was really about to—.

Moans muffled by the probing tongue, Ranjit came; untouched, harder than he ever had in his life. His eyes rolled, tears running freely. Thick pumps of cum shot from him, seemingly endless, each just as euphoric as the last. Srikanth pulled out of his throat as they finally abated, lapping up a line of drool that had run down his chin. They stared at each other for a moment; silent, breaths heavy.

Ranjit should have been exhausted, but release had somehow bestowed a new vigor in him. His cock still stood.

“Srikanth…please…I need…I need to fu—ahhh.”

He was interrupted by a small aftershock, length throbbing as a last bit of cum dribbled from him.

Srikanth hummed thoughtfully, smiling at whatever look flashed across Ranjit’s face. “I believe we’ve both earned this. Come up here, jaanu.”

He shifted to lay fully flat on his back. Ranjit all but scrambled up onto of him. He straddled his lover and slid his cock to rest on Srikanth’s slit, the head situated between the twin appendages at its top. Despite his desperation, he sat still and relished in feeling them pulse together. A hand lighted on the top of his shaft, the thumb caressing and making him twitch.

Ranjit’s hips started moving almost of their own accord, a slow grind as his cock was pressed between Srikanth’s palm and slit. He raised his head and the expression he found himself regarded by, fondness positively dripping with lust, was all the spurring he needed. Before he could be told otherwise— told to wait a second longer—he pulled out from under his lover’s touch, lined his cock up to Srikanth’s hole, and slipped in with a gravelly moan.

He paused buried to the hilt, mouth open as he was temporarily paralyzed by the overwhelming relief of finally feeling Srikanth’s insides wrapped around him. That frantic beat began to build in his shaft and balls again; heat, leaking fluids, a somehow further swelling. There was a series of irregular, fluttering squeezes on his dick as Srikanth actually whimpered; a gorgeous, sweet sound rarely heard.

“How are you…so much bigger than usual?” he asked, sounding slightly delirious as he began to pant, eyes glazing over. “Throbbing so powerfully…I’ve never felt you so—I was a fool to put off envenoming you…a damn, damn fool. Move…fuck me…fuck me, fuck me!”

Ranjit braced his hands on Srikanth’s waist and began to thrust, impatience having him grunting and slamming within seconds. He felt like a wild animal, bouncing atop his lover, moaning loudly as he pumped out cum after only a handful of quick plunges. He didn’t stop, fucking into his own release; warm, thick and audible as it was stirred up by the pistoning of his cock.

Ranjit didn’t care how easy it was anymore. The desire to fill consumed him. He came again, pausing then to ensure it spilled deep and stayed there. His ass twitched with it and he couldn’t believe how good even that felt, the contractions radiating from his pulsing, overworked prostate.

He began to move again, slower only because he felt Srikanth’s hands on either side of his face. Srikanth’s gaze locked on him, drinking in the sight he made; dripping sweat, wet eyes, mouth gaping dumbly in pleasure.

Srikanth made a noise that was equal parts pleasure and laughter.

“I know your kind can’t impregnate mine,” he said, insides clenching as a sly smile briefly graced his features. “But…I do love to see you so desperate to try.”

He gasped as Ranjit moaned and sped up. His hands fell away from his lover’s face, hovering and twitching in the air beside them. Ranjit broke his frantic pace to give a few quick, deep snaps of his hips; balls slapping against soaked scales. They had Srikanth crying out and letting his hands quickly descend onto Ranjit’s backside, using the point of contact as leverage to simultaneously pull Ranjit to him and buck up into his thrusts as the wild fucking resumed.

Any coherent words were lost on both of them for a long while; devolved to unabashed moans, desperate keens, feral growls, occasionally a name cried like a prayer.

Srikanth’s claws dug into the meat of his lover’s ass and Ranjit came from the sensation of one of them piercing, a small trickle of blood along with the sting of sweat on the wound. Just like before, he couldn’t seem to stop cumming; every minute or so he would be overtaken by that sweet, deep throbbing and thick pumps of cum wrenching from him to paint Srikanth’s walls. Frequently, he felt his lover coming apart; pulsing, clenching, milking another flood from him.

In a moment of brief respite, Ranjit slowed and happened to spy Srikanth’s abdomen, swollen slightly from the sheer amount of seed. It shouldn’t have been as arousing to him as it was, but it had him thrusting like mad again until his legs finally began to ache. He collapsed onto Srikanth’s heaving chest; buried deep, the copious venom keeping him erect and wanting despite his body failing him.

Ranjit panted, hips weakly twitching as Srikanth’s heart pounded against his ear. There was a heavy shifting sound somewhere close by. Something warm coiled around his waist—the long, thinner end of Srikanth’s tail. He turned pliant, letting himself be moved as Srikanth began to essentially use him as a toy, lifting his lower half and pressing it down. It was slower, and the thickness of the coil meant Ranjit couldn’t be fully buried inside, but it was enough for them both.

Ranjit wrapped his arms around Srikanth’s torso, fixated now on his lover’s scent and how their heartbeats seemed to sync. It was sweeter. Gentler. Matching the apparent fading of the venom’s effects. He still came several more times; gasps stuttering out of his raw throat with each orgasm, feeling Srikanth shudder and squeeze alongside him on a couple. Hands caressed his hair and back, accompanied by breathless praises.

“Good…so good for me.”

Eventually, Ranjit’s cock softened and Srikanth ceased moving him. Exhaustion caught up with him then, leaving him heavy and limp as he lay listlessly atop his lover’s body. His flesh still thrummed, pleasure shimmering over every inch of him. But it was somewhat overwhelming, his suddenly too-bright vision blurring in and out; he hid his face in Srikanth’s chest. An unfortunate after-effect of the venom, maybe? He felt the tail start to loosen and he tightened his arms in protest, unable to voice it beyond pathetic whining.

A quiet chuckle vibrated through him.

“Very well…we’ll give you a moment to come back. Perhaps I gave you too much for your first time.” Srikanth said, carding his fingers through dark, sweat-damp strands. The coil returned, firm but grounding. “I’m sorry…despite your faith in me, I admit I lost myself.”

Ranjit shook his head, extracting one of his arms to rest a hand on Srikanth’s bicep and give as reassuring of a squeeze as he can manage.

A contented sigh. “It was alright, then?”

“Mhm.”

More than alright, was what Ranjit wanted to say. He had certainly made enough of a mess of Srikanth’s slit to convey that. But he had to settle for an affirmative hum, basking in the feeling of his spent cock being cradled in that warm, still lightly-twitching passage. Cum and slick leaked out around him; they wouldn’t be able to sleep like that. But he could take a moment.

Srikanth’s voice stayed a comforting murmur.

“...Thank you,  jaanu.”

End

Masterlist

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ello! Can I request Fnaf movie Mike meeting like a Homeless kid who lives in the pizzeria who gives him tips and tricks to survive headcanons? Basically to confuse the robots they like wear the head of a offbrand/prototype Crow animatronic? They just chill and goof around but remain out of sight from the famous man behind the slaughter and his daughter? :3

Ever since you've made Freddy Fazbear's Pizza into your "home", you quickly learned the ins and outs of the establishment.

You knew what times the animatronics automatically started their shows, where all the security camera blindspots were, how to make a pizza quick and easy, etc.

Above all else, however, you knew how to avoid those robots so they didn't try to make you like them.

Normally, they'd be protective over children--they weren't hostile because you were a homeless kid breaking in and living there.

It's the missing kids themselves.

They've visited your dreams, and every time it ends the same way: with Cassidy asking if you wanted to "join" them and getting frustrated when you refused.

You learned what happened to them and communicated via drawings for a while...until you accidentally broke something, which made them assume you were deliberately trying to destroy the place.

So you've been playing a sort of cat-and-mouse game since, often pranking them and thwarting their attempts to capture you, but never meaning anything ill by it.

If anything, they seem to like these little games, too.

After reading some old employee handbooks, you discovered that the animatronics have a programming glitch that makes them confuse humans for endoskeletons without suits on--and they'd use lethal ways to "fix" them.

Conveniently, you've found a costume head of a crow (likely from a partner of Freddy's or some ripoff brand) backstage, and after successfully tricking Foxy with it...you realized how helpful this could be to the security guards who've applied here and "vanished".

Fastforward to when you meet Mike, fully aware he's the next guard to possibly die (the last one got himself killed before you could even properly warn him in advance--not that he would have believed you anyways).

He's understandably concerned bc you're just a kid who's all alone here with no family, and given his trauma....he suddenly feels like he needs to protect you.

Instead, though, it's the opposite.

"Slide that toolbox in front of the floor vent."

He eyes you strangely, wondering why a kid was bossing him around. "...why?"

"Trust me."

The second Mike does that, he jumps as something starts growling and slamming against the vent's grates, clearly trying to get out and failing as it retreats soon after.

"What the hell was that??"

"Probably just rats." You innocently shrug. "Or Mr. Cupcake who seems especially hungry tonight."

"I'm sorry....the cupcake moves?"

You realize he's absolutely clueless, so you tell him about the animatronics and their routines, showing him the crow costume head.

He's impressed that you know so much about this place (like you were an employee), but he doesn't believe they're capable of doing any harm until later on.

When he brings Abby, you easily see through the facade they're all putting on for her, but you play along with their antics while building the pillow fort (although you avoid talking or looking at Vanessa, never trusting her nor the yellow rabbit your "friends" spoke of).

During the final night where you both rescue her from Chica, you urge Mike to use the crow mask to trick Bonnie and Freddy.

He was certain it'll never work.

They couldn't be that dumb....surely they'll know it's him trying to sneak backstage..

Plus the mask was stuffy and heavy, and he just think it's easier to taze them.

But at your insistence, he tries it on and is shocked when they stare at him for a moment, before continuing their scheduled "show", completely unaware of his ruse.

It does make him wonder how you figured that out all on your own..

[anjanahalo]

Wayne vs Fenton 4

probably after tim starts investigating

~*~

It was another scheduled playdate that forced Damian to really question what Danny meant when he stated he was “liminal.” From what Danny shared at the time, it felt like a chronic medical condition. He’d been exposed, at some point, to a substance Danny knew from his scientist parents as “ectoplasm.” The exposure was strong enough to leave a lingering effect upon Damian’s body. However, Danny also warned the sort of ectoplasm in question was, as quoted by his classmate “super gross and nasty. Not shocked if it made you more prone to angry outbursts than the normal liminal. Like, getting into actually fighty fights and not regular fights.” Danny, as usual, wasn’t exceedingly helpful in clarifying his explanation. His peer evidentially understood the topic, but was horrendous in conveying the principles. From what he’d gleaned, it seemed this “ectoplasm” was a form of less potent Lazarus Water as, when he’d questioned Danny if it could heal the ill or bring the dead to life, Danny seemed horrified at the prospect. Damian didn’t question further. He enjoyed having Danny’s companionship. He’d hate to jeopardize that with giving his friend dangerous knowledge that might lead to the League hunting him down. He’d have to ask for help in researching this, but later. Later became now when, during their fight, after Damian lept to the next rooftop after being pushed closed to the edge, Danny stopped his pursuit. “Whoa, okay, we gotta go back.” “Are you frightened of falling, Danny?” “From that jump? No, but we’re not going further that way. Let’s head back. Saw an ice cream place a few blocks over. We could go there for a playdate treat?” “You’re deflecting.” “I am not! Get over here and say that to my face.” Damian didn’t move. “Make me.” Danny didn’t move. “Seriously, I get you’re liminal, but you’re apparently not liminal enough to realize why we should go back but, trust me, we should go back.” “I’d like a logical explanation you want to draw our ‘playdate’ to a close before I return, Daniel” Danny groaned. “You know how much I hate that name!” “And I’ll keep calling you that until you either use your fists or your words to stop me, Daniel.” “Urgh, look, you gotta promise not to pick any fights, alright? Seriously. There’s a super dangerous and strong liminal that way, and I do not want to deal with that shit on a school night.” Damian glanced back, properly mapping their location. They were both on the border of Park Row, better known as Crime Alley. Even more known among the Batclan as Red Hood’s territory. Red Hood, Jason Todd, a man who, very certainly, came in contact with the Lazarus pits. If living by them made Damian liminal in Danny’s scientific senses, being fully revived by them certainly would. Damian thought about tempting Danny further in to watch his reactions, but decided against it. Having strong if indirect proof of his hypothesis would be enough for the evening, considering his company. “Alright, Danny. This area is known as Crime Alley. Best to head back for ice cream.” “Thank you! Ancients!” Danny gave his favorite odd curse. “I didn’t want to have to chase you down in that sort of poisonous haunt!” “A…haunt?” “Nevermind about it. Basically the area a liminal lives gives a sort of aura from their ectoplasm and, trust me, yours might give the heebie geebies, but his is full Jason Vorhees. Neither of us want to deal with that shit. You paying?” Damian smiled back, hiding the thoughts and theories forming in his head given the indirect information he’d just been given from a scientific perspective of the Pits. “I assumed you were since you suggested it.” Danny sighed. “Fine, I guess I can use my meager allowance on you. But that means no waffle cones.” “And the place offers vegan-” “Of course it does! You think I’d be so focused on fighting you I wouldn’t note if a neat ice cream place didn’t offer vegan options for you? What sort of friend do you think I am?!” “With that division of attention,” Damian laughed, “it’s a bit up in the air.”

[goat-bones]

Please tumblr this is my third time trying to post this goddamn drawing PLEASE I DONT EVEN LIKE IT I JUST WANT THE TITS OUT

ILL EDIT IT LATER I JUST WANT IT UP

I’m keeping my upset yelling

Edit:

Oc x canon cause i Can and i will. Is Victor out of character probably, I don’t care let him care about Percy. I win

Second Percy is struggling to speak because he has a terrible throat injury that never healed properly and forgot how to speak for 12 years. WILL I EVER GO INTO DETAIL PROPERLY? PROBABLY NOT.

Anyway hope you enjoy some tits.

BYEEEE

[abiiors]

hot chocolate ☕ // matty healy x reader

promptober '23 - day 19

a/n: for all my girlies with the big sad, the cold months approach :/ cw: discussions of mental health, mentions of depression wc: 1.1k

matty has a pit of worry in his stomach. he’s had it for about two days now, for as long as the house has been unusually quiet. he’s alone in their dimly lit kitchen, barely any sunlight streaming in. whatever manages to sneak in through the parting of the clouds, gets diluted by the sheets of rain falling from the sky. 

it’s dull and grey. exactly the kind of weather she hates. 

matty gives the brewing pot of coffee another look and decides on abandoning it. 

he knows what he will see when he walks into the bedroom—she will be in bed, in the same three day old pyjamas, messy and unbrushed hair, “taking a nap”. not that he cares about how she looks. it’s just the niggling pit that doesn’t let him sit still. 

“darling?” he calls from the door, watching for any signs of movement under the duvet. “you awake yet?”

she should be, he thinks to himself. it’s nearly noon. he wants to make them some lunch but she doesn’t move, doesn’t reply to his question. matty gnaws on his bottom lip and walks in. 

“i’m making something for lunch…” he says again, sitting by her side of the bed and resting a hand on her back. matty knows she’s not asleep. her breaths are nowhere near deep and even. 

“i know you’re awake,” he says softly, moving his hand to her forehead, checking for any signs of an illness just in case. but deep down he knows the illness is not physical. 

when matty threads his fingers through her hair, it’s not the usual soft and smooth strands he’s met with. his fingers get caught up in the greasy knots, accidently pulling on some hair. she winces.  

“go away, matty, ‘m not hungry,” she mumbles into the pillow, voice feeble and barely audible. “‘m sleepy.”

he tuts. it’s a lie—if he’s right, and he suspects he is, she hasn’t properly slept in days, tossing and turning at night. and yet she has left the bed only a handful of times in the last few days. 

he’s tried giving her space, to let her sort things out on her own because that’s usually what she prefers. but he draws the line at skipping meals. 

“sleep after lunch,” he counters, and goes to draw the duvet off her. 

it’s not even a moment later that matty fliches, appalled when she slaps away his hand. 

“i said i’m not hungry!” she snaps, turning away from him, cocooning herself further, shut off from him, from the world. 

he stills and for a moment the only sound in the room is that of the rain hammering against the window. it’s haphazard, nowhere near a soothing beat. this rain sounds more like an anxious heartbeat—loud, odd and out of sync. 

then he hears the sniffle and his heart breaks. 

“baby…” he approaches again, trying to at least slide the duvet off her face. “hey, look at me please.” 

he doesn’t care that she snapped at him or slapped his hand away. right now, he cares that something is deeply wrong, and he’s ready to beg if that means she’d tell him. 

“g-go away, matty,” she tries again, tries so hard not to let her voice waver or crack and yet he hears it. 

matty decides enough is enough, and pulls the duvet off her entirely. 

her pyjama top is wrinkled and bunched up around her waist, and if he’s being honest, she smells a little bit but he can take care of that later. showers and perfumes and oils can wait. everything else in the world can wait. 

“i won't,” he declares firmly. “now you can either keep fighting me or you can tell me what’s wrong. either way, i’m staying right here.”

she looks at him through dull eyes that widen slightly with every word, jaw clenched to keep her chin from wobbling even as her eyes turn pink first, then watery until the tears fall one by one. matty doesn’t shush her, he just quietly pulls her into his chest, letting her cry it out. 

“i’m so cold…” she says after a few minutes. her voice is already hoarse, a whispery shadow of what it’s like on the good days. today it’s barely more than a squeak. “so cold. all the time. i just…i’m just so tired, i can’t. i don’t know what to do. and whatever i do, i can’t g-get, can’t get warm.”

she breaks into another round of tears by the time she’s done—loud, gut-wrenching sobs that break his heart but he lets her be. his only job is to be there and hold her. he just needs to be the sun.

“i know what will help,” matty mumbles into her hair, pressing a small kiss to her head. “give me two minutes?”

and he does return two minutes later as promised. matty practically makes a mad dash to and from the kitchen, balancing the mugs in his hands and his socks sliding on the wooden floors around the corner. but the liquid in them stays unscathed. 

“there we go,” he announces as soon as he’s back in the bedroom. a tiny pang goes through his chest when he sees her sitting up in bed, arms hugging her middle. she looks small, smaller than he’s ever seen her. but there’s a miniscule spark of curiosity in her eyes. 

he’ll take that spark. he’ll nurture and rekindle it. 

“chef matty’s hot chocolate,” he presents it with a flourish smiling at her raised eyebrow. 

“i know you said you weren’t hungry and you were cold. so i thought this would be a good compromise?”

for a moment she doesn’t say anything, only takes the mug from him and cradles it close, lets the steam waft over her face. hot chocolate won’t do anything for a cold that goes bone-deep. but it’s a start. he can do the rest of the work. 

“take a sip?” he nudges, sitting back in the same spot as before. he brings his own mug up to his mouth, nudging her to mimic him. together they drink their first sip. 

instant sweetness floods his mouth, comforting warmth creeping down his throat and settling into his stomach. he can only hope it does the same for her. 

and he will be there for the rest of it. for all the cold days that come after this. 

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies@sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars

add yourself to the taglist

[walkswithmyfather]

Exodus 3:1-4, 17 (NLT). [1] “One day Moses was tending the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian. He led the flock far into the wilderness and came to Sinai, the mountain of God. [2] There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a blazing fire from the middle of a bush. Moses stared in amazement. Though the bush was engulfed in flames, it didn’t burn up. [3] “This is amazing,” Moses said to himself. “Why isn’t that bush burning up? I must go see it.” [4] When the Lord saw Moses coming to take a closer look, God called to him from the middle of the bush, “Moses! Moses!” “Here I am!” Moses replied. [17] I have promised to rescue you from your oppression in Egypt. I will lead you to a land flowing with milk and honey—the land where the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites now live.”

“Moses: The rebel with a poor self-image” By Our Daily Bread:

"I'm just not enough." It's so easy to look at ourselves in the mirror and think something along these lines. There's so much we wish we could change, from how we look to how we think-to the visible and invisible limitations and challenges we live with.

Moses wished he could change things too. He may have grown up an Egyptian prince, but he knew he was one of God's chosen people-a people currently living as ill-treated slaves. His first attempt to free them was disastrous. Many years later, God invited Moses to be part of His rescue mission. Moses was sure he wasn't the man for the job.

"Who am I?" Moses asked, looking at himself. "No one's going to listen to me. I can't even speak properly." With every excuse Moses came up with, he was saying, "I can't."

God didn't try to boost Moses' ego or teach him to look at himself in a new light. "I am," God replied, drawing Moses' attention back to the Lord. "I will be with you. I made you just as I intended; I will help you speak." With every reply, God was saying, "But I can!"

When we're tempted to put ourselves down and say, "I can't," we can learn from Moses to listen for God's, "But I can." That's when we can look in the mirror and say, "God is enough for me today."