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#Smart Tente
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gemharvest · 3 months
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I'm going to line this and shit but I wanna work on the shitpost now that I have this sketched out. Sets this down and lets you guys chew on it while I go to make something lighthearted.
Lyrics from Chemical Overreaction / Compound Fracture by Will Wood.
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nebulous-rain · 21 days
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I need to know more about panacea please what is the lore
TO BE QUITE HONEST he doesn't have much definitive lore... all i have right now is that the amputation didn't fully remove reverb from his body, and he slowly got more and more corrupted over time to the point he's barely coherent. he has moments of lucidity but they're few and far between
his drive to find lewis manifested in this weird like. obsession? so he kind of wandered aimlessly looking for him for a long time. his clothes are a mishmash between arthur and reverb's styles, hence the coat and the spikes wristbands :)
for those who remember his whole inspiration came from a lemon demon song (sweet bod) so he DOES end up finding lewis' grave and. digging him up. and turning him into honey
that's it he's just a stinky arthur with lewis corpse honey
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ariel-s-awesome · 9 months
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I want Winona and Woodie to be friends and be the first Don't Starve characters to figure out how to build a fully functional house.
Because if anyone could it's the woodsman and handywoman.
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beware-nostalgia · 2 months
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Bats by Celia Bland 1996 part 1; part2
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nulltune · 1 year
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what  brand  of  stupid  are  you  ?
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Himbo stupid.         You're just an all around kind person who's a little too gullible. You are knowledgeable on weirdly specific trivia but a lot of common knowledge seems to have slipped you. You probably aren't the best at math but by god can you fix a flat tire. Everyone remembers you as a friendly person, you just might need to brush up on your reading comprehension again
tagged: @poweys TYSM 🫶💞 I LOVE THIS QUIZ SM LMAO
tagging: @ahkmourn @brawlqueen @tenkoseiensei @darabeatha @stellaruina @phantasmaw @songofancients @doomxdriven @chimehana @femtaile @wolvensden @orphilos @jiwone @quaremoritr @halowe @siure @vonerde @resolutepath @zorkaya @setsunaid @caemthe @corrchoigilt @serpentsexile @jardinae @fanaticist @magickedhat @igniferous @crimsontroupe @dis--parity @batinstincts @2citiez @selfiestar @bitterseadrop @luminousglimmer @holyrisen @madamhatter um yea . 😳 EVERYONE SHOULD DO THIS QUIZ WHFKSJFKSJC but don't forget 2 tag me !! >:3c
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belladonnaprice · 4 months
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emmaspolaroid · 1 year
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last night i planned my elopement and today I’m sketching out my first ever artist alley booth life is so wonderful and strange and exciting
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dullanyan · 2 years
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love (despise) looking up job stuff. jobs for people with anxiety? sure how about (lists of things that are incredibly physically demanding). jobs for people w autism? well autism CLEARLY means youre good with math so heres a bunch of jobs that require great skills with numbers. also in these lists are things that require licenses and degrees you cant afford <3
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beast-feast · 1 year
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My inability to name things really shone thru here BSHSJFKDKKSKEJF
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asterdeer · 2 years
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i took that raads???? autism test and got a decently highish score, like the “strong suggestion of autism” range, but then i took the masking quiz and got a 150 when the average score for nonbinary neurodivergents is 122. so. is that anything
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Nanami who drops to his knees the moment he arrives home, the feeling in his chest; indescribable because he knew his wife was upset… so very upset…
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He loathed the guilt that clung to him as he had to work late and miss the date they planned just a few days prior. The front door creaked open as you heard him tiredly shuffle in, tossing his keys onto the counter with a bit more force than he intended. He rolled his neck side to side, in a futile attempt to release some of the stiffness in his muscles. He kicks off his shoes, not bothering to bend down and untie the laces, before commencing his walk of shame to your shared bedroom. 
Each step felt heavier, causing his heart to only beat faster every second. A thin sheet of sweat began to form on his brow as he approached closer and closer to the room. His fingers, diligently thread into his tie to pull it undone, tossing it mindlessly on the floor. A few buttons of his shirt came undone but it did nothing to relieve the growing tightness in his chest. He hesitantly reached for the door knob, and with a deep breath he opened the door as slowly as possible. 
And there you were. The soft light of the room revealed your silhouette as you sat up on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest tightly, as your eyes bored into him like daggers. No, you weren’t actually upset and he had obviously a good reason for his absence, but it was the first time he missed something like this– and the sting of it lingered in the room. 
He tentatively stepped closer to you, his expression full of guilt and desperation, like a puppy who had been scolded. The weight of an unspoken apology creeping on him. 
“Darling… I’m sorry," he whispered, barely audible. But he knew it wasn’t enough. No reaction from you, you wouldn't even turn to look at him, the silence between the both of you was suffocating. His fingers graze over your hand as his knees buckled, threatening to give away under the weight of guilt.
He falls to his knees before you, taking your hand in his. “Please, look at me, honey…” pleading eyes looking up at you, raw emotion in his voice as he presses a soft kiss on your delicate hand. His fingers intertwined with yours as you finally grace him with your gaze, the eyes he so dearly loved finally on him. His grip was soft yet pleading, almost as if he was afraid you’d let go. 
“I feel terrible…” kiss “It will never…” kiss “happen again…” kiss
Each one of his kisses had you in trance and you truly believed him, Nanami wasn’t the man to tell you empty words. You look down at the mess of the man on his knees for you, your hand comes to his cheek, caressing it. 
“I forgive you…” You utter, as you look at him, into his eyes of honey. 
Those three words…
That was all he needed to hear. His breath was caught in his throat and for a moment he just stared at you before taking a deep breath. Relief washes over him and all the guilt slowly disappears. His head drops into your thighs and rests there a moment, still holding your hands. 
“I will spend an eternity making it up to you…” he finally speaks up. His statement makes you smile. You thought he was joking but he wasn’t. 
“Starting now,” he declares, a spark of confidence returning to his body. 
Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head down, his lips brushing softly against your knees. His kisses are tender and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing. His lips trailed along your thighs, the warmth of his breath sending soft shivers up your skin. 
You sighed softly, your fingers threading through his hair, delicately pushing it back from his face. You wanted to see him, to really look at him, at the man you loved now between your legs. 
His kisses trailed higher and higher. Nanami was a smart man. He knew just what to do and how to ease the weight of the situation from your mind, to make you forget. 
“You’re so gorgeous” He mumbles in between kisses. A red tint creeping up on your face at those simple words. “But you know that already, don’t you?” he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I tell you everyday…” He whispers, right into the heat between your legs. Your back arches up off the mattress and he knew he just had to have you already.
“May I?” he asks, his pointer finger hovering right over where you needed him most. You gave him a quick nod and that was all he needed. He slowly slides your panties down your legs before begging to devour you, entirely. 
Nanami learned everything that made his pretty girl feel good, and he planned to do everything tonight. Every flick of his skilled tongue had you in a chokehold, the way he held your legs open with his strong arms all while still on his knees. He explored every inch of you, lapping up everything you gave him, his fingers joining in to only make you feel that much better. 
Orgasm after orgasm had your mind hazy but Nanami had to make sure you knew he was sorry. And he did make good on his promise. He never ever forgot again. 
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mistyorchid · 19 days
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Meet-Cute
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Old Man Logan x fem! reader
Summary: Failed talking stages inspire you to meet someone irl. Riding an older man in the backseat of his limo makes you forget about the immature boys who ghosted you on Hinge. Meet-Cute Ch. 2 Warnings: MDNI, 99.9% porn, no use of y/n, age gap, reader is 21+, fingering, riding, size difference, praise kink, pet names (doll, baby, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), unprotected p in v, light slapping, oral (male! receiving), creampie, car sex (nobody's around tho), logan's slutty glasses. wc: 3k
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Hinge. The app designed to be deleted. You smiled as you pushed the cart, daydreaming about chucking your phone into the nearest lake. The few matches that you received often ghosted you after a week, afraid of committing to a real date.
So here you were, aimlessly strolling through a grocery store. Desperately begging the universe for a real man.
You spent an embarrassingly long time curating the perfect outfit to attract a guy worth your time. Casual enough for a quick errand, but still chic. I want to be with someone who admires my confidence. They shouldn't reprimand me for expressing myself.
That's how the feminist part of your brain explained your attire. The other touch-starved half, however, wanted to wear the shortest skirt you owned just to feel men stare holes through it.
You turned into the bakery aisle and pretended to evaluate the nutritional contents of a massive chocolate cake. Maybe this could be plan B, if tonight's endeavor was hopeless.
The comforting hum of fluorescent lights softened the sterile environment around you. Memories of simpler times floated in your mind. Handmade school lunches. Gentle kisses placed on your knee after a bad fall. You closed your eyes, lulled by the promises of love you were granted as a child. Now an adult, you yearned for a partner that could nurture you in a romantic way.
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Logan overheard a bag of produce spill onto the floor as he picked up a shopping basket. The cashier dropped it when he saw Logan's blood-stained dress shirt.
Mumbling a string of profanity, he decided to release some steam. "Show's over!" he snapped, flippantly tossing his right arm behind him.
Ignoring the shocked gasps of the other shoppers, Logan sulked further into the store in search of something to soothe his palate.
His doctor tentatively ordered him to "lay off the booze," a suggestion that left three deep puncture wounds in the drywall of his office. Alcohol numbed the emotional and physical pain that plagued him, but it also further delayed his healing powers.
Logan's skeleton was withering away, and all he wanted was a fucking sweet treat.
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Your body braced for impact as your chest made contact with a shopper haphazardly turning into the aisle. After dropping the cake onto the pristine white tile, you closed your eyes again, salvaging the moment of peace that was stolen from you.
"Hey, watch where you're going, asshole." You reluctantly opened your eyes and were met with the solid torso of a man.
Slowly raking your gaze up his body, you raised your eyebrows at the sight of his bloody shirt before meeting his narrowed eyes.
Crows feet radiating from the corners. Prescription glasses. He appeared much older than you expected from your brief contact with his chest.
You silently cursed your luck. This meet-cute plan was steadily evolving into a meet-angry situation.
"Not smart to close your eyes in public," he huffed, staring pointedly at the fallen cake. It was hard not to notice your mini skirt. He hasn't seen a skirt that short since the 60s.
Although you had pulled away from him, the man's eyes lingered on your chest. The playful baby-doll top hugged your cleavage in all the right places. Your glossy lips donned a similar shade of pink. He quickly resumed eye contact, feeling like a dirty old man for imagining them wrapped around his cock.
She's too young, you sick fuck. Logan's internal monologue worked overtime to maintain a shred of decency.
Your face turned away from him at the impending embarrassment you were about to put yourself through. Smirking, you shyly retorted, "Not smart to stare at a girl's tits in public." You gently pushed up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.
Closing the gap between your chests, you tip-toed to reach his ear before whispering, "It's okay . . . I want you to."
The answer to Logan's suffering was sweeter than any slice of cake he could have indulged in. A pretty little thing was actually flirting with him, a cynical ex-soldier worn by the unforgiving rings of time.
Logan's hands found the back of your elbows and slowly pulled you closer to him. You gasped as you felt his belt buckle catch on the flimsy fabric of your top.
"Careful, doll," he grunted, leaning down to meet the side of your face. "I'm old enough to be your father."
You defiantly peered up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, and . . .?"
The man slowly distanced himself from you, gently tugging the hem of your top down to its original state.
Okay, definitely not the best response to seduce an older man. You chewed the inside of your cheek, stunned by your juvenile comeback.
"I'm sorry, kid. Forget I said anything," he muttered before turning into another aisle. He mentally kicked himself for letting the interaction go that far. Although his aching body and mind yearned for some relief, he wouldn't take advantage of some young girl.
He hurriedly stomped past the cashiers, swiping a few cigars from a distracted employee's station.
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After the initial shock wore off, you quickly followed the older man to the parking lot. Totally not stalker-ish at all, right?
You wanted to take care of him. His reluctance to return your lust-sick gaze should have deterred you, but it only made you more desperate.
You watched as his hands dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The chipper click of the limo doors unlocking motivated you to get his attention.
"Hey! Can we talk?" You yelled, raising an outstretched palm to stop him from getting inside the car.
Logan froze at the sound of your voice. He contemplated being responsible, slamming his door and driving off without a second glance.
The gentle pressure of your hand wrapping around his wrist made him think extremely irresponsible thoughts.
Turning around to meet your gaze, the older man swiftly opened the passenger door. "Get in. Now," he growled.
Words betrayed you. All you responded with was a surprised squeak as he used your grip on his wrist to push you further into the vehicle.
His eyes widened as you briefly parted your thighs to get settled in the lush leather seat. The sinfully short hem of your skirt bunched up, revealing your underwear.
Logan whipped his head to the front of the limo, avoiding the sight of your body. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid how you felt against his. You sat at an angle towards him, knees pressing against his thigh. His body tensed as you placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Why were you following me, huh?" he asked, finally meeting your eyes. "I've had a long fuckin' day and I need answers." He couldn't believe that a young woman like you would be interested in him.
"Yeah, you're old enough to be my father, maybe older-" you paused to move your left hand onto his thigh. "-but I'm done playing with boys." You shyly turned your head before continuing, "Need a real man."
Logan was done holding back. Now, it all made sense. Your lack of direction in the store, the low cut of your outfit that was way too sexy for a late night grocery run. We're both adults, he reasoned. She wants this.
He gingerly cradled your jaw with his large hand, turning your head towards his. "You sure about this, sweetheart?
You covered his hand with your own, bringing your lips to his in a spontaneous kiss. "I-I need to hear you," he stuttered.
"Shut up and fuck me, . . . " you sighed, pausing to ask for his name.
"Logan . . . call me Logan, doll." His left hand snaked around your waist, bunching the delicate material and exposing your breasts.
As you leaned into his palm, he fished the limo keys out of his pocket and clicked twice, locking the doors. He fondled the underside of your tits before rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
You were grateful for the tinted windows that shielded your embarrassing moans from the public.
"Already whining for me, hm? So fuckin' needy," he hummed, pushing up your top even further. You crossed your arms to undress, but Logan swatted them away, explaining, "It's cute. Wanna see your tits bounce for me, baby."
He gripped your ass with both hands and effortlessly swung you onto the broad expanse of his lap.
Your back arched as his rough palm cupped your pussy, thumb languidly tracing your sensitive bud through the cotton.
"But this . . . has to go," he drawled, tugging the elastic of your panties before letting it go with a faint snap.
It was too much. You were splayed over the lap of a stranger, hips wantonly rocking yourself over his prominent bulge and mewling as your sensitive clit caught on the rough fabric of his slacks.
He stilled your movements with his hands, lovingly kneading the flesh of your hips. "You okay with this?" he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "Yeah, Logan . . . more than okay. Need you."
You loved that he was confident enough to take what he wanted but also gracious enough to check in, unlike the boys you were used to fucking around with.
His fingers hooked around the waistband of your skirt and panties, skillfully pushing your legs against your chest as he pulled them off. He decided against slicing them off with his claws, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck. You're so pretty. My sweet, sweet girl . . ." he cooed. You whined as your aching cunt was finally exposed to Logan's hungry gaze and the chill night air. He groaned as you resumed desecrating his lap with your juices.
Your breath hitched as Logan traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You granted him access, playfully darting your tongue around his digits.
After his fingers were thoroughly soaked, he used your saliva to gently trace your hole, noticing the faint flutter of your walls.
"Need me to fill you up, hm? Poor baby's clenching around nothing. Let me fix that . . ." Logan's palm brushed against your clit as his fingers plunged into you, setting a steady pace.
You were incredibly wet, but he needed to prep you for his thick cock. He drooled, collecting a heavy wad of spit onto his tongue before letting it fall onto your pussy.
"Ah-ah!" You exclaimed, surprised by the contact. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing at the lewd feeling of his spit mixing with your wetness.
He used his other hand to slap repeatedly against your puffy folds, mesmerized by how vulnerable you were being for him.
"Yeah, you like that?" He whispered, curling his fingers as they met your cervix. You covered your mouth, desperately trying to maintain some modesty. Logan withdrew his left hand to pry away your arm and swallow your moans, sloppily slotting his lips into yours.
You gasped into his mouth as you felt your cunt spasm around his fingers, gushing all over his tight slacks.
"Oh, fuck! Logan . . . " you mewled, biting his lower lip while he continued to finger you through your orgasm.
Your head fell into the inviting crook of his neck, nuzzling his graying beard. "Atta girl, come for me," he cooed.
Logan peered down at you, noticing wet droplets dampening his beard. You were silently crying, tears cascading down your puffy cheeks before landing on his face.
At first, he was alarmed. "Hey, hey, shhhh," he purred. "What's the matter, doll?"
His cock twitched when he realized you were smiling against his neck.
"Nothing's wrong, Logan . . . you make me feel so good, that's all."
He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Yeah? Want me to make you feel even better? Fill you up for real this time?"
You nodded dumbly, still basking in the haze of your release.
"Nuh-uh. Words." The simple command made you rut into his lap.
You shuddered while responding. "Wanna feel you inside me. Need your-" Logan bucked up into you. "-cock."
He slid his hands under your thighs, briefly pushing you forward so he could unbuckle his belt. Your small hands slinked toward his waist. "Let me do it," you pleaded, hastily sliding his belt through its loops and tossing it to the floor.
You pulled his cock out of his slacks, leaning down to press sweet little kisses to the head. Your thighs burned with the effort, but it was worth it to feel him momentarily lose control. Logan hissed sharply, "Good girl, fuck-" before guiding his thick cock into your heavenly mouth.
You licked a prominent vein that teased its way above his waistband. The taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You moaned onto his length, choking back tears as he suddenly thrust up into your eager throat.
The delicious weight of his cock on your tongue was short-lived. He cupped your face, forcing your mouth to slide past the tip with an obscene pop.
"Won't last long if you keep doing that, doll. Takes a lot less to get me riled up these days," he explained.
You nodded as you straightened yourself, using your knees to hover above his lap. He teasingly ran the flushed tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into your weeping pussy.
"Oh my god! fuck-" you cried, lowering your hips to embrace his full length. Your hands found stability on Logan's shoulders as you bounced on his cock.
Logan stared in awe at your tits. They were practically spilling out the sides of your cute top, jiggling with each movement of your hips.
As he admired your form, you drunk in the sight of his coarse salt and pepper beard. His wiry glasses barely held onto the slope of his strong nose due to your eager movements. You paid special attention to his crimson-stained shirt, wondering how he was enduring the wounds.
"You're hurt." You stated, pausing to slowly unbutton his dress shirt.
Logan's hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed you down onto his lap, forcing you to continue taking his cock.
"Never said you could stop," he huffed. "It'll take time, but I'm healing."
You gasped as your clit hitched on the bunched fabric of his slacks, frantically shrugging off his shirt in the process. A devastating moan ripped from Logan's throat as you peppered kisses on his wounds. The coppery taste of his blood was oddly soothing, reminding you that the man buried in your cunt was real and not just a figment of your lust-fueled imagination.
Logan loved how dazed you looked, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, your pupils dilated and glossy. His cock twitched every time your soft tits brushed against his face. You whined as the steady rhythm of your hips faltered, hinting at your imminent release.
"Lean forward, baby. Let your old man take care of you," he sighed, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to slump forward, arching your back and playfully wiggling your ass in the air.
You yelped as he slapped your ass with enough force to feel the sting radiate from his outstretched palm. "Such a fuckin' tease," he growled, filling you up in one thrust. He set a punishing pace that made you sob into his chest. The loud squelches of your release echoed throughout the limo, mirroring your high-pitched wines.
"Oh, my god! . . ." you mewled, savoring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. Your breath hitched every time his hips met yours, balls slapping against the sensitive skin of your ass.
He fucked up into your cunt, relishing the fact that you'd probably never had a cock as big as his. Logan stared at where you were connected, hypnotized by the subtle drag of your folds along his rugged length.
"Don't know what I did to deserve a pretty girl like you." His teeth tugged on the delicate strap of your top, exposing your breasts. His mouth enveloped the bud, gently sucking and pulling as they hardened.
"Logan . . . can't take it anymore. I'm close." You clenched around him, earning another hard slap on your ass.
"You gonna come for me sweetheart, hm?" He somehow increased his pace, hips drilling into your sensitive cunt. "C'mon, come all over my cock. Such a sweet young thing, so eager to please . . . " he hummed into your ear.
"And just so we're clear, I am definitely older than your father." His filthy words made you arch even higher, stilling your hips mid-air and allowing Logan to fuck you through your release.
The sound of you faintly chanting his name as you came sent him over the edge. "You can take it," he encouraged as your pathetic whines intermingled with his unabashed groans. His hips drove home, bouncing you harshly against his tense thighs and spilling into you with a low growl.
You almost blacked out at the feeling of his cum spurting into your walls, reaching even further when Logan buried his cock to the hilt. You clenched around him, overstimulated and thoroughly fucked.
"That's it, just relax . . . You look so pretty milking my cock," he praised, brushing stray hair away from your face.
You managed to sit upright and shakily moved to lift yourself off his cock, but Logan quickly steadied your hips. He's still hard, you realized, fascinated by his renewed vigor.
He panted, obviously just as spent as you were.
"So, uh, tomorrow, the Italian place on fifth street, 8 PM?"
You narrowed your eyes, incredibly confused at his choice of words after experiencing the best sex you've ever had.
"Our first date," he clarified. He kissed your cheek and you blushed at the contrast between the innocent action and the fact that his hard cock was still buried in your cunt. "After all, I'm a real man, right? And real men plan dates." He plastered on a cocky grin, repeating your earlier statements.
"Okay, old man. It's a date." You smiled, kissing his mouth with passion.
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Ah!!! I had so much fun writing this. Old Man Logan, when will it be my turn >:[
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theorphicangel · 11 months
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thinking about collegebf!gojo staying over for the night, constantly complaining about your single size bed.
“stop kicking me.”
“m’not kicking you.”
“Yes, yes you are satoru, don’t even try to deny it.” You huff, grumbling into your pillow.
“Is it my fault that you have a small ass bed?” Gojo exclaims, “I can’t even turn over right, I’ll pull a muscle.”
“leave then.”
your bedroom fills with immediate silence as soon as the words leave your mouth. your stomach nearly drops, regret creeping across your skin. you’ve only been dating satoru for a few months but you’ve known him for years and can already predict his reactions when it comes down to situations like this.
there’s two possible ways he could take this. one: he could turn into a brat and actually leave, giving you the silent treatment until you guilt trip him into talking to you by buying him sweet cinnamon buns for breakfast. or two: he plays along and actually ends up kicking you out…of your own bed.
awaiting his response you whisper his name tentatively.
“satoru—“
“take it back.”
“or what?” you tease, despite there is anxiety in your tone.
“fine then.”
Satoru sits up and reaches for his phone on your bedside table, immediately his fingers start typing, you watch him silently as he scrolls.
your mind gushes over the possible things he’s doing on his phone. finding ways to break up with you? Texting someone to pick him up? Ordering an Uber to leave?
the thought of it makes the regret take control over your whole body.
“I take it back!” you exclaimed suddenly, your arms wrapping around him, securing him tightly so he can’t leave. “m’sorry,” you kiss him between your speech,”don’t leave me — I’ll buy — you all the cinnamon— buns that you want.”
“whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about leaving? If anything we’re leaving together.”
“we?” you repeat.
“I’m looking for one bedroom apartments with a double bed.” He emphasises on the last part, “m’ getting sick of these dorm rooms.”
“wait really? you want to—“ you pause, swallowing thickly as the words come out of your throat.
“you want to live together?”
Gojo looks up, the glow of his phone screen illuminating his face.
“Of course baby, unless you don’t want to?”
“I do!,” you say exasperatedly, “I want to. I just didn’t think…”
“what?”
“well, right now? we don’t even have any—
“shhh—“ satoru presses a finger to your lips, “don’t start worrying that sweet little head of yours sweetheart, I’ve got it all figured out.”
you frown, pulling away his hand, “don’t sign anything without letting me see it first satoru” you warn.
“or course!” He says, “what do you take me to be, an idiot?
“sometimes.”
satoru glances up at you, his expression declares full offence. this is the moment where he’d choose to get up and leave but thankfully your sweet lips play as a smart distraction.
“but you’re my idiot, satoru, and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”
“would you still buy me all the cinnamon buns-“
“no.”
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chikaras-garden · 1 year
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Batboys as your sugar daddy
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What’s the point of all this money if you don’t have someone to spend it on?
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Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x fem!reader
Contains: Sugar daddies. Possessive, controlling men. Power imbalances. They’re all a little toxic. These relationships are not aspirational babes. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Dick’s.
Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked.
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BRUCE WAYNE 💋
“Wear the diamonds,” Bruce rumbles from behind you, lips right next to the shell of your ear. Before you can answer, his warm hands are already on your throat, and cool platinum touches your skin. A hundred diamonds arranged in three dainty layers sparkle in the low light of Bruce’s bedroom, clinging tightly to your neck.
With the choker clasped in place, one of Bruce’s hands traces up and down your neck while the other rests heavily on your hip, holding you flush against his chest. His touch is hypnotic, pulling you in like a planet pulls a moon into orbit. Your whole world revolves around him—and that’s exactly how he likes it.
But like the moon, the subtle gravitational pull you have on him keeps him in place, keeps him stable, calms his most wicked of storms.
He bows his head. The way he looks at you through his eyelashes is almost reverent while he kisses your bare shoulder, skin interrupted only by your dress’s hair-thin silk strap.
“Beautiful,” he says, and you know he’s not talking about the necklace, the dress, or any of the other jewels and silks he’s drowned you in over the last year.
When your eyes meet in the mirror, one corner of his lips quirks up into a smirk, which he buries under a kiss to your jaw. 
There, with a quick, sharp nip of his teeth, he lays his claim. “And all mine.”
DICK GRAYSON 💋
Dick’s on his knees, head buried between your legs when you hear—feel—him say, “I need you to take a week off work.”
Well. What he really needs is for you to just quit your job already, but you got upset the last time he suggested it. Baby steps. For now.
“Why?” you gasp, blinking hard as you try to focus on the fact that he’s starting a conversation now when his tongue is making you smart and shake with pleasure.
“I want to go to the Maldives,” he says as if it’s the most inconsequential thing in the world, as if he’s saying he wants to go across town, not across the world.
His tongue flattens out and dips into your weeping hole, and your thighs tighten around his head in response. He groans, and you choke out, “A week for the Maldives?”
You feel his lips twist and curve around you, paired with a little graze of teeth; he’s smiling, and the sensation makes you dizzy. There it is, he wants to say. You want more. Finally, your expectations are starting to match his bank account.
But he decides to play the dumb, pretty boyfriend he likes to make people think he is. “You don’t think it’s enough time? Wanna take two weeks?”
“I don’t have the—” He kisses up to your clit and gives it a tentative little suck, which makes you fist his hair. “—vacation days.”
“Why don’t you just take them without pay?” he proposes as his tongue laves up your swollen sex. “It’ll be okay, just this once. You’ll feel so much better after some time off; I promise.”
JASON TODD 💋
Jason is currently scrutinizing the contents of your pantry, a box of macaroni and cheese in his hand. After seeing the scowl on his face, you’re not surprised when he starts to lecture you. “You eat this crap?”
You raise a brow because he’s one to judge. “I’ve seen you eat an entire party box of tacos.”
“I’m not you,” he fires back. His voice is still low, still calm, but you can sense an edge in his tone; this conversation is about a lot more than boxed macaroni and cheese.
In the beat of silence that follows, his heated gaze dulls to a smolder. “You don’t know how precious you are.”
You open your mouth to reply, but whatever retort you were going to argue back with is silenced when Jason’s big hands cup your face, tilting your head up so he can kiss your forehead. He lingers there, and you feel him tremble. His breath is ragged, rough—as if he’s afraid.
“I’m not you,” he repeats in a whisper. It’s like he’s talking to a child, like he knows you don’t know any better. Poor little you—you need him. “Just let me take care of you like always, okay? How about I sign you up for one of those meal prep kits? No more processed food; it’s not good for you.”
When he pulls you against his chest and strokes your hair, you feel yourself nod, unable to disagree. You know he’s right, after all; and isn’t it sweet that he treats you like a delicate angel even though he’s seen the worst of the world? That nothing without his stamp of approval is good enough for you?
TIM DRAKE 💋
“Oh, you’re all set,” your manicurist smiles at you as soon as you take out your wallet, nails freshly done. 
Caught off guard, all you can reply with is, “Huh?”
She just smiles a little brighter, and there’s a sparkle of something in her eyes. It looks a little wistful, but also a little vapid—is that jealousy? “Your boyfriend paid already,” she explains as her eyes not-so-subtly look around, trying to catch a glimpse of said boyfriend, but you’re just as surprised as she is.
“For the next year,” she adds in a dry tone. Slowly, you drop your wallet back into your purse. There’s only one man alive who could figure out where you get your nails done, what day and time you like your appointments, and call ahead to pay off your manicures for the next year without you ever finding out about it.
So when you get back to your car, you call him.
“Do anything fun today?” he asks over the phone, pretending to be way more innocent than he actually is.
“Tim—”
“Actually,” he cuts in, and you hear a bashful tremor in his voice. That tremor makes your stomach do flips, which beckons you to give in to whatever he wants. “I was just thinking about you. You’ve got the prettiest hands.”
“Tim—”
“Let’s go shopping later,” he rambles on, completely ignoring you. “I think you need some new jewelry. You’d like a new set of rings, wouldn’t you?”
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🔖: @mrs-kurooo; @lovely-loren05
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 7 months
Text
Danny ends up a doctor like his parents, just not the type of doctor they were expecting.
Danny becomes an archeologist.
He couldn't help it! Most of his friends were dead people, some from as far back as ancient Mesopotamia! He automatically knew every dead language by virtue of being a ghost! The way his friends talked, he wanted to know more about their lives. So he goes looking and makes a name for himself.
He becomes a well known archeologist. As a grad student, he works for the Drakes, even babysitting their son, Tim. He goes to Janet's, and later Jack's, funeral, offering to take Tim in, which the boy is grateful for but declines in favor of a bio-uncle. Eventually, Danny discovers the remains of an ancient cult in the Middle East.
Ra's learns that the remains of the original League of Shadows has been uncovered by a group of archeologists. Originally visiting the dig site to ensure the group doesn't discover any traces of the modern-day League, he finds himself intrigued by the young Dr. Fenton leading the dig. He's smart and bright and the first person in 400 years that can speak Ra's birth language. He becomes fond of the good doctor, even more so when he discovers that Danny's a conservationist and is skilled with a Xiphos (all Pandora's doing). How strange that their spars often end up with them retreating to Danny's tent to be alone...
And then Danny invites Tim Drake to visit, worried about the boy being a teen CEO with no breaks. Tim agrees.
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