#Posting this in the middle of the night but whatever

[qwimblenorrisstan]

I always see so many drabbles and posts about yandere!141, and how they would sabotage reader’s work or income or relationships to get them all to themselves, but what about the other way around?

No one would suspect you, a field medic, to be responsible for much other than patching wounded men up and soothing those already too far gone. Your had your eye on the 141 for a while already, operated alongside them during missions, grown closer, and decided that you would claim them before whatever cruel fate awaited them in this career did.

It wasn’t like you’d done it directly, anyways.

Sure, you might’ve let Price off a bit earlier than you should’ve with the sprain to his ankle and knees, he would surely wear them down, and you weren’t exactly surprised when he collapsed mid-mission, ACL torn, tendons ripping and breaking one knee. Injuries too severe to get back in the field.

Ghost had the displeasure of encountering a Molotov that “the enemy” had thrown through a window, one he hadn’t noticed until it was too late, and his body was too covered in burns to be considered operable enough for him to stay in the military.

Poor Gaz, who’d been captured by the enemy (who somehow knew where he was, though they shouldn’t have…) and tortured with isolation and starvation for weeks. He was so delirious and paranoid when he was finally recovered that he was deemed a risk in any mission.

And Soap? You hadn’t even played a part in that, simply watching as Makarov had put a bullet in his skull. The Scotsman had barely survived it, now having random episodes every now and then when his battered brain would start seeing or hearing things that weren’t there.

Who had made the final decision for all of them to be honorably discharged? None other than you, the most fit medic to do so, considering how close you’d been with them before the incidents.

And who volunteered to act as a nurse for the boys while they lived together in a house somewhere rural with rolling fields and fresh air, who better for the job than you, who could heal their injuries with little kisses to them, and maybe even get them attached enough that you’ll stay beyond the time you’re needed?

No one noticed or seemed to mind within the house when one of the boys would slip into your room in the middle of the night, whether for more medicine, a massage, simple cuddles to soothe their unrest, or something more.

And you weren’t complaining a bit.

(might make this a full fic tomorrow if I have time??)

[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[hysteria-things]

BLURBS — LIST ONE

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 — 🪻

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 — 🤍

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 — ☔️

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 — 🫧

ʚ♡ɞ𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎ʚ♡ɞ

fashion show in new lingerie 🤍

handsy chris while you wear new sets 🤍🫧

he loves you 🤍

wearing one of his shirts 🤍

falling asleep while hugging you 🤍

shit bratty!chris would say 🫧

turning needy when you degrade him 🪻🫧

holding your hands while fucking you 🪻

swallowing your cum for the first time 🪻

buying whatever you touch 🤍

“i missed you” sex 🪻

admitting he’s a virgin while putting it in 🪻

slapping his dick against your pussy before putting it in 🪻

what he likes doing to a girl 🪻

teasing chris until he starts to cry 🪻

showing off the marks you left on his back /teasing you while you do stuff 🫧

bratty!chris not dropping the attitude 🪻🫧

punishing you until your ass is beet red 🫧

fucking him until his eyes go crossed 🪻

bratty!chris gaining the attitude back when you’re done with him 🪻🫧

fingering you with his bracelet on 🪻

making slime with chris 🤍

soft sex but his thrusts get rougher 🪻

eating you out to please his oral fixation 🪻

calling him a whore 🪻

nick feels like something is going on between you and chris 🤍

nick thinking you and chris are on a date 🤍🫧

giggly sex 🪻🤍

him being too loud that his brothers have to text the group chat 🤍🫧

nate hyping up chris in the group chat 🤍🫧

dad!chris with you while giving birth 🤍

reacting to you degrading him 🫧

car sex 🪻

dad!chris emotional seeing his baby for the first time 🤍

nick catching you two cuddle 🤍

he needs help masturbating in the middle of the night 🫧

he wanted to fuck you for so long 🪻

carrying you 🤍🫧

comforting you on your period 🤍

mood swing cuddles 🤍

mocking you 🫧

rubbing over your panties to ease period cramps 🪻

praising chris 🪻

catching you off guard 🪻

overstimulating chris 🪻

bratty!chris saying shit while giving him head 🪻

your brain turning into mush when he hits that spot 🪻

making him jerk off in the mirror after you teased him 🪻

edging chris 🪻

asking you to facetime when he’s about to jerk off 🫧

post twitch stream sex 🪻

sending him a video of you fingering yourself 🪻

porn he watches 🪻

you’re scared to hurt him when you’re on top🪻

having sex after a while of being apart 🪻

sucking a hickey into your tit 🫧

calling you sexy 🫧

getting hard while you bake 🫧

purposely leaving the door open while jerking him off 🪻

first time 🪻🤍

listening to you speak 🤍

he fucks you better 🪻

trying reverse cowgirl for the first time 🪻

thigh riding 🪻

tickle fights lead to making love 🪻🤍

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 ʚ♡ɞ

riding matt 🪻

begging for your touch 🪻🫧

whining when he cums 🪻

thrusting up into you while praising you 🪻

fucking you dumb 🪻

messing with your bra to soothe himself after a rough day 🤍🫧

“i miss you” sex 🪻

playing with his hair while eating you out 🪻

backshots in the kitchen 🪻

reacting to your nipple piercings 🪻🫧

kissing you to cover up your moans 🪻🤍

reacting to you doing the alibi trend 🤍

nicknames 🤍

coming out to him 🤍

porn he watches 🪻

teasing you while driving 🪻🫧

you need him even though he’s recording with his brothers 🪻🫧

“accidentally” bending over in front of him 🫧

helping you with your stomach aches 🤍

he loves admiring you 🤍

cockwarming on a rainy autumn day 🪻🤍

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑 & 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 ʚ♡ɞ

reaction to your tongue piercing 🪻🫧

when they pop your cherry 🤍

starting your period during sex 🤍

how different they fuck you 🪻

catching you fingering yourself 🪻

they’re the complete opposite while fucking you 🪻

who likes you more? 🫧

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐄 ʚ♡ɞ

pushing on the bulge in your stomach 🪻

degrading nate 🪻

overstimulating nate 🪻

laying on your boobs 🫧

virgin!nate 🪻

taking pictures while laying on your tits 🫧

sub!nate 🪻

[inkbybambi]

The 141 ansgt left behind post? Oh my poor heart 😭

Mission goes to shit. 141 gets captured, split up and interrogated. Tortured.

Until they figure out how to escape. In the middle of freeing one of them, they realize you're on the other end of whatever facility you were all brought to. The opposite direction of freedom.

They can't risk it. They leave and escape. Without you. Worst part is you don't even know. You still believe they're all here with you. Still surviving with you.

You don't find out until one of the captors comes into the cell and shows CCTV footage of the 141 escaping the facility under the cover of night *without you*.

hey quick question what the fuck (affectionate, this is the exact level of angst and hurt i aspire for, ily for this)

tw: kidnapping, mention of torture, no happy ending

your captors are so fucking smug about it too, they couldn’t haven’t planned this better even if they had tried. they’re absolutely pissed that the boys got the slip on them and you’re about to be the one to pay the price for their freedom.

you cling onto this small light of hope that maybe they’ll come back for you. they just needed reinforcements. they just needed to bandage their wounds and set themselves right again. time to get a new plan together to get you out. wait it out just a little bit, but they would come back for you.

as the days slip by, that hope fades smaller and smaller. there hasn’t even been a sighting of them, a chance they were doing recon on this facility you’re trapped in like a lab rat. one of the captors comes back a week and a half after they left — a week and a half that you were still trapped there, starving and bleeding and feeling halfway to death — with the announcement that they found the 141’s safe house. that small flicker of hope trembles.

it’s vacant, they say. nothing left of them, not a single trace.

that hope extinguishes as they turn to you, one last time.

[star-stilinski]

repost of an old deleted fic.

set in the beginning of season 3b.

☆

stiles has been erratic all day, from counting his fingers in class to pacing and rambling nonsense to scott at lunch and accidentally running two red lights on the way home. he says he's tired, says he's just nervous about his dad being on night patrol after almost getting sacrificed, which is fair. but still, it's not like him to act this way.

you can't figure out what's wrong with him.

"i'm fine." he insists as you run your hands up his arms. he's sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned to you and heaving air anxiously. you rest your chin on his shoulder and wrap your arms around his middle.

"then go to sleep. you're all wound up and sleep deprived, you need to rest."

he doesn't move other than lifting his hands. he begins quietly counting.

"stiles."

"alright, okay, i'm just making sure this is real. scoot over." you hear him try to lift his tone to sound goofy, uplifting. it sounds sour instead. you roll your eyes at the silly comment, more than used to him being swooned by you, claiming you were so 'out of his league'. whatever that meant.

he had been using that line specifically in the most random situations lately. in class, at breakfast, even after coach yelled at him for staring off into space.

whatever, he's just odd. you like that.

you curl up next to him as he lays stiffly with his arm around you. with his body heat and his scent and his breathing, you're out in minutes.

☆

screaming.

loud panicked the sheets are thrown off stiles shoots up right before you do screaming is he okay is he hurt did someone break in stiles stiles stiles is screaming at nothing and grabbing his chest and scrambling back on the bed sobbing screaming again.

you act on impulse, grabbing him around the shoulders and pressing him into you, yelling his name over his noise. he thrashes in your arms for a moment before realizing it's you, practically shifting gears with how quickly he changes from pushing away to pushing into you, turning his body to hug you and sob into your neck, mumbling nonsense you can't hear, gripping your shirt like a vice.

you press him close, hushing him. "i know, i know baby. it's okay. i'm right here. it was just a dream. just a dream, okay?"

he nods into your neck and his loud, pleading sobs turn to quiet whimpers as he breathes into you. his grip on your shirt is just as tight as before, pulling your body into him like you'll vanish if he lets go.

"stiles." you hum his name, feeling him shudder afterwards. his grip loosens a fraction. you whisper it again, scratching his scalp lightly. "stiles, pretty boy."

he lets go of your shirt with one hand and uses it to lift himself up just enough to look at you.

desperate brown eyes roam your face. you watch silently as he examines you, eyes hesitating on your chest. you tilt your head, confused for a moment at how he could be distracted after that but you realize-

you take a breath, a deep one that makes your chest rise and you watch his gaze soften. he was watching for you to breathe.

you pet his hair and he shakes lightly, eyes still searching you like he's looking for a tell of some sort.

"lay down, love." you whisper. he complies immediately, collapsing into your neck and breathing you in while you stroke his hair and whisper comforting words.

after awhile, his grip on your shirt falls away and he sinks deeper onto you. as you hum (beautiful boy by john lennon) softly, he mumbles something incoherent.

"what was that, sti'?"

"don't let me fall asleep." he whispers into your skin.

it leaves a chill in the air. it's not sweet. he didn't say it like 'oh i'm so content, don't let me miss this moment.'

he said it like 'it will get me.'

you don't know what it is, but you ignore his wishes. night terrors can be horrible for him, and what he needs right now is a good nights sleep.

it will be the last good nights sleep stiles gets for a very, very long time.

☆

posting this from before i deleted my acc to entertain bc i haven't been free enough to write lately. anyway. love you guys and all the support, i am still alive and kicking and my drafts are moving (albeit slowly)! have a good night, here's a spoonful of angst!

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Copper Roses

Author: Trenchcoat_Paradigm

Artist: Spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean Winchester / Castiel Sam Winchester / Eileen Leahy Dean Winchester / Lisa Braden (past mention)

Length: 30000

Warnings: Discussions / Themes of terminal illness.

Tags: Canon Divergent, Hanahaki disease, Curse Breaking, Caregiving, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Eventual Smut.

Posting Date: November 6, 2024

Summary: Dean is sick. Has been sick for a few days – ever since they came off their last hunt – and all looks hopelessly bleak as more blood-soaked petals clog his airways. Hanahaki disease is a deadly curse that sees flowers grow and bloom inside a person whose heart is filled with a romantic love for another, and the only way to cure it is to have that love returned to them. But Dean is adamant that this person doesn’t love him back and he refuses to speak their name.  If Castiel’s words would impact his condition he would say them loud and proud every day, but that's impossible. There is no way that Dean could be in love with a broken angel. He wishes he was the one who contracted the wretched curse just to take away Dean’s burden, he can't stand watching the man he loves wither and die right before his eyes. He will do whatever it takes to see Dean get that cure, even if it means breaking his own heart in the process.

Excerpt: One of Castiel’s downfalls of losing his grace was he now needed to rest more to help what little grace remained to revitalize quicker, but this night it wouldn’t be the hum of the circulating air or the clang of pipes that would keep Castiel from sleep. It was the hacking, retching cough that echoed down the hallway.  Dean had been coughing nonstop since he went to bed less than an hour ago. He had started in his room, the spluttering muffled behind his closed door, but he quickly moved from his room to the bathroom – which was adjacent to Castiel’s room. It had been five minutes, and that coughing hadn’t slowed, it was an intense chesty cough that sounded like it rattled every bone in his body, and after another heaving bout of it Castiel was out of bed and across the hall to see if he could help.  He knocked on the bathroom door gingerly as he pushed it open, “Dean?” The bathroom was a small space compared to the rest of the bunker and clad in an off-white tile. Three shower cubicles stood to the left and a row of three sinks sat under large rectangular mirrors to the right, which is where he found Dean. He was hunched over the middle sink, his hands gripped tightly around the porcine rim as he heaved and choked out another retching splutter.  The back of his hand wiped at his mouth as he lifted his eyes to Cas. For want of a better word, he looked awful. His skin was pasty and pale which made the heavy bags under his eyes even more prominent. His usual perfectly manicured hair was misshapen and at odd angles with dry days old product flaking from it, and those bright dazzling forest green eyes were dull and red-rimmed. “Sorry. Did I wake you?” he wheezed. Castiel shook his head as he took a single step inside the room, “I was just coming to check on you. See if I could help.” Dean opened his mouth to speak – probably to argue – but all that came out was another hacking splutter. He turned sharply back to the sink to cough violently into the bowl, like a cat trying to bring up a fur ball. Castiel hurried to his side, rubbing a soothing hand between his shoulder blades as Dean continued to choke and wheeze. He looked down and noticed tiny flecks of bright red blood splattered into the white of the bowl. No doubt due to the irritation his throat was suffering thanks to the violent coughing, but still alarming to see nonetheless.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[relaxxattack]

new alternian custom fonts

just got done making some custom fonts in new alternian! will probably do some more eventually but here's four if anyone is interested!

download fonts here

[biblically-accurate-dca]

doodle page that gets worse the more you look at it

[sam-and-crystal]

my piece for the @mlsecretsanta gift exchange! for @frilliz! i wanted to draw shadybug & claw noir and i figured designing their ice costumes might be a good way to make them kind of holiday themed <3 i hope you enjoy it! i had a lot of fun drawing it :D

[nerosdayinanime]

currently obsessed w the image of giyuu just grabbing sabito's face. squish his face in one hand and wiggle em around bc sabito just lets him

[catominor]

did someone say sulla and his harem of guys.

(from left to right: pompey, metellus pius, crassus, sulla, lucullus)

[hashileio]

i swear im normal about him

[click for better quality]

[thelaurenshippen]

made to love resident evil games, born to be afraid of spiders

[coquelicoq]

lmao walking home today at 9:30pm in the dark i hear a voice say "it's a good thing you're walking on this side of the street." which isn't ominous at all. the voice goes on to tell me it's because there's coyotes in these parts. like okay i guess coyotes see a residential street and are like i can't walk suddenly i don't know.

[katkat030]

finally getting a chance to sit down and read the hotguy comic zine and oh my goddd.

striking me that Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down is very, very much a Hotguy-like song

[bookishjules]

The Shape of the Tide - Masterpost

Rating: Explicit

Length: ??

Summary: In the five years since Annabeth Chase left her kingdom and the love of her life, she has done her best to move on. She's found a new home at an inn, a new family to be a part of, and maybe even a new person to love; and for the most part, she can ignore any residual pangs of guilt and regret. But when a certain prince arrives unexpectedly at the inn, the shaky foundations she's built this new life on begin to crumble. Annabeth is faced with questions she doesn't want the answers to, and answers she never asked for, but the threads of her past go deeper than she realizes, and soon finding closure is the least of her worries.

chapter by chapter * start from beginning * playlist * vibes