#IM IN A MOOD OKAY

[emmyrosee]

…..🥺🥺🥺I wanna talk about Bokuto n Izuku 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[darkacademiboy]

[napping-sapphic]

*gives you a gay little kiss that feels like home*

[irishmammonagenda]

"Solomon?" You ask, eyes unblinking like a lizard as you stare at your favourite Rat Bastard. "You know how you're immortal?"

Solomon turns to you in mock shock, "Really? Why I never wouldve guessed."

You deadpan. "It was a serious question."

Solomon smirks his usual evil smirk, which to anyone else observing would look like a pleasant smile. "Yes, and what about me being immortal, MC?"

"Well, did you ever know Merlin?" You tilt your head as Solomon's smile falters for a split second before he fixes it.

"..."

"Solomon?"

"Yes, I knew Merlin."

"Before or after you became a Rat Bastard?" You ask him, eyes trained on his pretty smile. (evil grin)

"Well...I may or may not've been good friends with him..."

"Do you think I could meet him?" You ask, bouncing one of your legs after you sit down on Solomon's workbench.

Solomon moves towards you, something flashing in his eyes for a split second before his hands find their rightful place around your waist. "No."

"Why not?" You pout.

"Because I'm the only famous sorcerer in your life." He states, that something flashing in his eyes once more. Something animalistic. If Solomon was a demon, you were sure his demon form would sprout out.

"What about Maddi?" You raise an eyebrow.

Solomon scoffs. "You hate Maddi. You put on a mask with Michael's face on it, and then tried to drown her in a ditch."

You shrug. "I'm just mad the bitch didn't drown."

"She did damage her oesophagos though." Solomon smiles evilly, actually evilly this time.

"So why can't I meet Merlin. I want his autograph." You bring th conversation back to the topic at hand, your flustered gaze trained to where the Great Sorcerer holds you by the waist possessively.

Solomon scoffs once more, grey eyes narrowed in on you. "And why do you want his autograph?"

"Because he's the greatest sorcerer to ever live? Duh."

Solomon's grip tightens at that. His brows furrow.

"...No he's not." The silver-haired sorcerer replies after an awkward moment of silence.

"Yes he is."

"No he's not." Solomon glares at you, grip tightening once more, it's almost painful. "I can give you my autograph if you yearn for one that badly. End of."

"But-" You pout, eyes flickering with the flame of mischief, wanting to see how far you can take this.

Solomon's eyes snap up and down your body before meeting your gaze, forcefully he moves closer to you, you lean back until he's directly in your face and your back is up against the surface of his workbench.

You feel his hot breath on your ear as he whispers, "The next words out of your mouth better be 'I love you Solomon!' or I'm not hearing them."

Your breath hitches, you suppress a grin, "It's just that-"

"Not hearing it."

"Emrys is just so cool-"

Solomon flicks you on the head for that one. He moves away from your ear so he can look at your face. Grey eyes instinctual and crazed.

"My darling apprentice....you don't want to know where this is headed." The Witty Sorcerer grits out, emphasising the word 'my' like it's an ancient incantation.

You stiffen, you've really done it now. There was no way you could keep teasing your favourite Michelin Star Murderer and come out unscathed.

A dark purple surrounds the sorcerer, are those flames?!

You pout, looking into the crazed feral eyes man who's about to lose control. You'd have to stop being a gremlin and take responsibility.

"Sol...I love you." You say, and you mean it.

And like clockwork, rhe dark purple flamey aura disappears, Solomon's grip loosens on you, he moves a little farther back, allowing you to get up off the surface of the workbench. His usual Rat Bastard smile returns, and the crazy feral look in his eyes diminish, never fully going away.

You raise an eyebrow teasingly, "So that's a no on meeting Merlin?"

Solomon sighs exasperatedly, love ever-present in his expression, "Forget Thirteen, you'll be the death of me."

You laugh, "Back to your Alchemy lesson now?"

Solomon chuckles. "Back to my Alchemy lesson." He nods, taking his hands off of you and walking over to his cauldron.

You follow him like a lost puppy, unaware of the extent of the danger just a few moments ago. Not danger you were in, of course, like Solomon could ever hurt you. But the rest of the realms?....well that's a different story....

Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Never wake a sleeping dragon....

Never underestimate the obsession love that Solomon the Wise has for his Darling Apprentice.

[teabee5103]

aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

yknow?

[harbingersglory]

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

[alicornze7]

returning to my roots

a lil' cute and wholesome ribbun drawing...

...or is it?

[taitavva]

wish me luck ..

[kestalsblog]

I keep seeing posts that are like "continue posting your fanfic even if you receive no comments! don't be discouraged!" and I just . . . don't share that viewpoint UNLESS the joy you're receiving from the fanfic is simply the intrinsic value of writing itself - which is fantastic, but I'm not sure why that warrants being posted if the happiness is only for you anyway.

Posting something online, fanfic or otherwise, is generally about engagement, right? And while it's unrealistic to hope for like 50 comments on one chapter a day after posting, if you've been posting regularly for two years and receiving no comments, I understand why you'd quit and just delete the fic eventually. And I don't think anyone should blame you, criticize you, or blast you with fake positivity about "never give up" over it.

Sorry if this sounds bitter, but I just saw an excellent author with over 1,000 kudos feeling discouraged because she'd only received 2 comments in many months, but when she said she was going to delete the fic, people got pissy.

Life's too short to waste your time working on something you're not benefitting from. 🫶 It's not about punishing silent readers; it's about taking care of your mental health and prioritizing tasks that lead to happiness, not stress. Fanfiction is NOT a job. And to the readers - if your favorite fic being deleted ends up serving as a reminder that you should support your favorite artists with more than a metaphorical, silent thumbs-up, well, that's just an added bonus for everyone.

[aroaceleovaldez]

HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.

The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.

[consultingskeletondetective]

Simon Riley who lashes out at the new recruit (you) over something minor, 'you're useless, recruit, do better'

You get over it pretty good, your crush evaporating into nothing, why would you waste your time over someone who doesn't care for you?

Simon confused why you're so cold and distant to him all of a sudden

Price confused as to why you're suddenly asking for a transfer

Simon confronting you over your weird attitude and you pointing out you were in love with him until he told you he didn't care for you and Simon pales 'were?'

Price granting your transfer and time passing until Simon sees König picking you up and swinging you in his arms and you giggling and happy

Simon nursing a bottle of bourbon when he realises his temper made him lose you

[basketobread]

pov: you just asked lunara about her time in the underdark and now she's a completely different person

[mistxmood]

okay this is way more fun than i thought it was gonna be

(Please don't tag as ship/billford/etc!)

[ID: "MEOW." Bill Cipher says nonchalantly. He's floating a little ways, hands folded behind his head and legs crossed with his eye closed, from Stanford Pines, when he was younger, with a clipboard in his hand presumably in the middle of taking notes for the portal. "Meow?" He repeats, confused as to what just came out of Bill. Without a second beat, Bill replies, "GROWN ASS MAN."]

[ID: Stanford turns on Bill, now even more bewildered and indignant, and with his hands waving in his huff he exclaims, "Bitch?!" Bill, now seemingly realizing what he had just said, has his eye wide open staring off upon processing the last few seconds.]

[ID: Bill Cipher floats in the empty space, with a hand on his hip and his other pointing upwards as he gives the viewer his word of advice: "ALWAYS STAND UP FOR YOURSELF! NEVER PASS UP THE OPPORTUNITY TO ESCALATE A MINOR DISAGREEMENT INTO LIFE CHANGING VIOLENCE!" He looks very pleased with himself for this.]

[ID: Bill, in his Theraprism jumpsuit, is in the middle of scribbling incomprehensible doodles made up of yellow, red, blue and purple across multiple sheets of paper laid out in front of him. Beside him is a crumbled up paper, and crayons scattered about him. He's looking up, disgruntled, at the unwanted company of Dye Cipher, the artist's billsona, who is a black triangle with rainbow cracks and a splatter of Euclidean blood over his front. He also has a top hat and a bowtie, goes by he/they/ze pronouns, and is currently in the middle of phasing through Bill's cell wall, eye closed with zir hands clasped together saying, "How are my sweetie pee?"]

[ID: Dye already looks visually scrambled, like uneven RBG layers, presumably from crossing between planes of dimensions to enter Bill's cell unnoticed. But upon his presumed disinterest of responding, Dye grows in volume until their eye is big enough to swallow him whole, closing the distance between them as ze opens zir eye to reveal his unstable scribble of a pupil, with yellow teeth framing his eye. Ze looks even more incorporeal and unstable, uneasy on the eyes, clipping through the walls of Bill's cell to remain face-to-face with him, as ze says with emphasis, "I Said How The Fuck Are My Fucking Sweetie Pee."

Bill, unprepared for this, has a tight grip on the crayon in his hand as he jerks up from where he's been kneeling to draw upon the sudden close distance, eye wide in alarm.]

[ID: Stanford Pines, older as shown during his appearance in the show after traveling the dimensions, has a hand cupping his face and the other holding open The Book Of Bill as he reads its content. His eyebrows are furrowed but he looks more conflicted, lost, upon what exactly is he reading.

Beside him is a Twitter post by Kira, account handle Sadcrib, with the following contents explaining, "y'all ever open a message and be like "what the fuck am i supposed to say to this""]

[napping-sapphic]

I just want to fall in love with someone who makes me feel safe like even when we’re angry or sad or upset i just want to know that both of us are still going to be okay

[logosbot-tm]

Mcr, that one band where people get sad about voting on which member we like the most and which album we like the most, bc all the members are equally important and all albums are equally important so we try to figure out other ways to decide what we like the most, bc we suck at choosing between the four albums and the four members

[darlingsart]

I had an itch to draw Achilles and the little fucked up hair cut I think he gave himself when Patroclus died. He’s not having a great time