#THIS SONG IS SO FUCKING GOOD OH MY GOD!!!!!!!

[syluscrows]

LNDS boys reacting to Cupcakke songs

I genuinely love cupcakke so much she is so creative 🫶🏻🩷 my favourite lyrics of hers are "But my cum is Caucasian"

But.. how would the LNDS boys react to her songs??? 😏

SUGGESTIVE - SYLUS, ZAYNE, XAVIER

Mdni

Xavier - Backstage Passes

- "You want me to listen to a song..?" "I think you'll like it Xav!" (you were wrong)

- At first I think he would be internally jamming to be honest. But..

- "O-oh..." Is his only response when she sings "Got my asshole squinting on his dick like it might fuck around and get glasses"

- I think he would get super embarrassed.. the reddest you've ever seen his cheeks 😭

- "I didn't expect this.." once the gagging noises start

- Once you explain it to him a bit he does think it's kinda funny.

- I'm sorry, but I really do think he would get hard? He doesn't know what to think!

Zayne - CPR

-Man is frowning from the start...

- It just doesn't seem like his kind of thing?

- But the fact she's slurping and moaning from the start, he is already SILENT..

- He is so tense and unmoving he might as well be a piece of furniture

- "I save dick by giving it CPR" "But- that's not how cpr-" "shut up nerd"

- He wouldn't laugh, he would look DEFEATED

- "Oh my God Zayne are you SWEATING?" "Yes..."

- If you measured his heart rate you wouldn't hear a fucking thing he's in shock.

- "Okay, I get it now.." "I'm not turning it off."

- As it ends he's just.. frozen in place.

- "Zayne you can breathe.. it's over.." "Please don't do that to me again."

Sylus - Deepthroat

- Mans loves music right..? And ideally I'd like to think he's quite open to discovering different genres / artists, so I don't think he would question if you wanted him to listen to ANYTHING.

- First 17 seconds he looks so focused

- I think he would genuinely break his facade and piss himself laughing the moment the "HUMP MEE FUCK MEEE" starts

-"Mouth wide open like I was at the dentist??" He looks IMPRESSED (HER LYRICS R SO CREATIVE HOW COULDN'T HE BE??)

- He is speechless when she starts moaning, in a good way???

- "I think I like this music" "oh?" "I think I'll get it on vinyl." "NO SYLUS.."

- "Put it so deep I can't speak a sentence" HE WOULD SMIRK IM SORRY

- Turns to look at you SHOCKED when he hears "I ain't swallow one kid I think I swallowed twins!" (He's still laughing though)

- "So, can we go to one of her concerts?" "Anything you want, kitten"

- I think he wouldn't mind listening to the rest of her songs, he seems like he would find this kind of stuff funny?

- Perverted man would probably ask if you showed that to him for certain reasons.. "So, I'm guessing you'd like to recreate all of that..?" "I just wanted you to react to it--"

BONUS: the twins would fucking love it.

[sepetajmikolikomehoces]

Okay, I have finally recuperated after yesterday's getting home-snafu. In the process of trying to get to the train station, I ended up missing my train and the only available options was either paying an assload for an evening train ticket or a slightly smaller assload for an even later evening train ticket.

Smaller assload it was.

Anyway.

Good GOD what a weekend. Putting it under the cut.

I have been so hyped about seeing Kuumaa since we got tickets in February and fucking hell if just the prospect of seeing them hasn't carried me through this year amidst finalizing my divorce and dealing with the aftermath of that on top of work and school.

The friend group I have been so lucky to be welcomed into realized that four of us would be going to Kuumaa, and when we found out Kä would perform at Tullikamari the day after we all realized we could go and bought tickets, deciding along the way to make a pikkujoulut-weekend of it complete with secret santa and everything.

Kuumaa are just... insane live. I had some expectations, but I was not ready for Johannes kicking us off with a very stripped down version of "Tarkotin sua". Everything after that was just highlight after highlight. Some of the songs from their earliest album were slightly unfamiliar to me, but still fucking slapped. Bawled my eyes out during "Luotan tulevaan" as predicted, had chills down my spine for all of "Tuiki tuiki" and felt like my soul was soaring as 10 000 of us sang along to "Ylivoimainen". Insane, and it took me a while to land from that experience and fall asleep later.

Saturday was Kä day with my beloved potatoes @frikatilhi @harmaanoita @punanenmarli @meerkathideout and @maladroitoracle. Gifts were exchanged, Marli also got an additional late birthday/early Christmas gift in the form of a Fisherman's rib cardigan, and my lovely meerkat got their very own Jure sweater.

This was probably the absolute chillest pregigging ever, and I want to do this every time. We piled six people into a car meant for five and went and had pasta dinner at a place near Tullikamari, then showed up just as doors had opened. Still got an excellent view, and holy shit, THE GIG.

So many people have already talked about how incredible the gig was and I can only echo the sentiment. "Ready to go" is the fucking BEST opening song, Kä was so happy all throughout the gig, the yapping was A+ and I fucking died when we got "Rock Rock" AND "Menestynyt yksilö" on the setlist. Getting "Urheilujätkä" after some chanting was just the cherry on top, and of course Jesse was missed, but if nothing else, this is proof of how beloved he is.

Had the most fucking Fenno-Swedish encounter post-gig. Guy comes up to me and meerkat and this happens:

Guy: Hey, are you from [region X]?

Me: ....yeah?

Guy: I FUCKING KNEW IT, I COULD TELL. Where from, north or south?

Me: Well, technically neither???

Guy: No, no, you're either from the north or the south!

Meerkat: How about "secret third option"?

Guy: The fuck does that mean?

Meerkat: [explains]

Me: Yeah, so I am from [place]. Hence "secret third option".

Guy: OH FUCKING HELL.

He then turns around and yells for his friend. Who is also from the same place as me (though apparently doesn’t live there anymore). We spent five minutes just making sure we weren’t related. We weren't. But still. Can't go fucking anywhere without finding some sort of connection to home.

Six people, a five seat car repeated on the way home, and we first spotted the Kä bus coming towards us, screamed a little, then had to immediately freeze because we passed a police car. Then realized five seconds later the Kä bus was a little ways behind us. Exit pursued by the Kä bus.

Can't thank my lovely potatoes enough for this weekend, and I hope we can do this again (not necessarily with back to back gigs involved) very, very soon.

[boysinmaidoutfits]

Ocean eyes

Stepbrother au

Warnings: curses

mainly inspired by the Billie Eilish song ocean eyes🫢

Summary:You and rafe were step siblings, ever since your parents met they just had to be together. Rafe hated that though, so he ultimately hated you. He was mean, and always doing something to make everyone angry at him. Except you. You liked Rafe, even if he he was so mean sometimes for no reason you still remained sweet to him, the sweetest girl in fact, and that’s what annoyed Rafe the most. You clung to him always, especially when your parents were out, or away, like they were this weekend.

It was just you and rafe in the house, he sat in the living room, “Rafeyy!” I shout as I come down the stairs, as soon as I arrive in the living room I see Rafe’s blonde hair and broad shoulders as he slumps back to couch with a gruff look on his face as he watched the tv. "Shh! For fuck's sake, will you be quiet?" He muttered under his breath "Always fuckin' noisy..." he takes a swig of his beer, deliberately avoiding looking at you "What do you want, y/n?” I sit down next to him on the couch, our arms slightly touching which was seeking me more comfort than it should. “Just wanted to spend some time with my stepbrother, what are you watching?” He rolls his eyes as you sit next to him, his arm tensing as you get too close for comfort. "Last nights game, you're gonna sit here and stare at the tv with me?" He asks sarcastically, taking another swig of his beer. “Thats what i was planning on doing yeah.. if it bothers you just say so god..” I slightly roll my eyes, i never understood his attitude and why he was so cold all the time towards me. "I don't want you near," He snaps, his temper flaring. "Happy now?" He takes another swig of his beer, trying to drown out the fact that you're still sitting there acting all nice to him. “Fine, I.. I guess I’ll just go then..” i mutter as i stand up to leave with a disappointed look on my face, as i start heading to the kitchen.

A few moments pass, it feels so quiet but Rafe’s thoughts aren’t, he gets up from the couch, his feet carrying him to the kitchen despite his brain telling him not to. He leans against the doorframe, watching you as you grab some food. He hates how you always look so sad when he snaps at you.

As i rummage through the fridge and get some ingredients, i hear a slight creak causing me to turn around, and there he was, Rafe standing right in the door. “You need something?” I ask, i cant help but still be nice to him, this is one of the traits i hated about myself, my niceness. "No," He says gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just came to see what you were doing." He watches as you turn back to the fridge, his eyes trailing over your small figure. He quickly looks away, not wanting to get caught staring. “Well.. im gonna make your favorite so you better be hungry.” I turn around smiling up at him with all the food piled up in my hands, i quickly settle it down on the counter. “Im not hungry y/n..”he snaps, even Rafe didn’t know why he snapped at you, why was he so annoyed by your presence? What was even his issue? He walks further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. "You're too fucking stubborn for your own good, you know that?" I look up at him. “Oh so im the jerk for caring for you or what?” I slightly raise my voice which usually never even happens, but this time he was acting really stubborn. “And what is that even supposed to mean?! Look at how YOU’RE acting right now..” I huff. "It means you don't take no for an answer, even when it's clearly what someone wants," His eyes trace your features, noting how the harsh kitchen light brings out the freckles across your nose. "Like right now." “I really don’t wanna play one of your games tonight Rafe, plus all this shit that you’re doing doesn’t affect me get that in your head.” I turn away from him refocusing on preparing the food, “Oh, it'll affect you," He says, his voice cold. "It'll affect you more than you realize." He reaches out, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. "You think you're so fucking tough, but you're not." He looks at me with his piercing cold ocean blue eyes, all i see is hatred. I realize im not tough, my eyes began to tear up and my throat goes dry i try to look away, pull away, but his grip is tight. He notices the tears welling up in your eyes and something inside him snaps. "Fuck," He curses, his grip on your chin tightening. "Don't cry, goddamn it." He pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly against him. I breathe in his rich woody cologne and the words “Im sorry..” spills out from my mouth. "Don't apologize," He murmurs, one hand moving to stroke your hair while the other keeps you firmly against his chest. His heart is racing, beating against your ear. "Stop... being so fucking sweet to me," He whispers, voice cracking slightly. "It makes everything... harder."

[foster-ya]

Honest to god you guys, I didn’t really get the Powder/Jinx x Ekko (Timebomb is their ship name I believe?) shipping that much in the first season, just wasn’t really invested all that much.

But NOW, oh boy am I going through it now. Like, straight up bawling my eyes out and shit. The dancing scene with them in that semi fix-it universe FUCKED me UP fr fr.

Like I’m sitting on my bed rn, it’s almost 11pm and I’ve got work quite early tomorrow morning but instead of sleeping like I told myself I’d be doing (my sleep schedule is a bit fucked up at the moment), I’m over here! Sobbing like an idiot while listening to the song from the dancing scene (Ma Meilleure Ennemie by Stromae & Pomme). I can’t fucking deal with this. Leave it to Arcane to finally make me invested in the straight ship as much as the gay ones I guess. Doesn’t happen a lot but Arcane is just that good.

So yeah, that dancing scene was just beautiful on its own, but it’s just made so much worse by us all knowing that it’s just a different universe. That Ekko won’t stay here, that he’ll probably find a way to leave, to go back to his own. And in all of the scenes in the fix-it universe, we can see him slowly falling in love with Powder again, remembering who she was before everything went to shit, before Jinx. Seeing what could have been. What kind of life they could have had. The entire sequence of them dancing just has such a bittersweetness to it, it makes me so fucking emotional, it’s almost unreal.

So I guess, let’s just say: I get it now guys. Sorry for not seeing the vision before.

[littleplantfreak]

'When', not 'if'

("I'm not a romantic" I cry and scream before dropping the most sickening thing i've written to date. Blame @stunie because i did tell her i would write the most ume thing ever and maybe this is it. The title in my docs for it is 'Fucking disgusting' but i figured i better not title it that here because I'd be seeing it in my notifs lmaoo)

SFW/no cw unless you hate fluff

When you wake up from your nap, one of your slippers is gone, and there's a blanket on you that wasn't there prior. Looking at the clock, it's been about an hour since everyone had left your apartment once your birthday party ended. The day as a whole had been chaotic, your boyfriend shoving you out the door with a note to go see Kotoha.

The note took you farther than that, though, as it seemed Umemiya created a whole scavenger hunt for your birthday that had you running into all of your friends, having dessert at your favorite cafe, and eventually ending up at your shared apartment to find that all that time spent around town was a distraction so that he could set up the space for your party. After it had ended, you were banished to the couch because princesses aren't allowed to help clean up their own birthday parties, which had you huffing and falling face down into the chicken shaped pillow affectionately called Mr.Clucky.

It was a product of your boyfriend's endless cycle of hobbies when he took up sewing. A little lopsided and overfilled with stuffing, you complained to and into Mr.Clucky with your face pressed into him. Apparently, he was soft enough to fall asleep on because before you knew it, you had been drooling on him the entire hour. Prying yourself off the couch took more effort than was almost worth it before your eyes fell on the reason you were so tired to begin with.

Hajime smiles and hums looking at your bleary eyes. "Good morning sunshine, I was just about to take you to bed," he says, folding a dish towel over a chair. You toss off the blanket and grab on the slipper that fell under the living room table before padding up to him. Dipping your hands under both of his arms to lock them together behind him, now your face is in his chest instead of the chicken, which is entirely preferred.

"Don't wanna go to bed just yet," you muffle, sinking even deeper into him when both of his arms wrap around you in support. He smells like dish soap and birthday cake, and you turn your head to hear the heartbeat in his chest.

"What do you wanna do lovey? You know I'd give you the world if you asked," you can hear the rumble of his voice in his chest with your pressed ear. He's cheesy, but half asleep, you feel just as much, if not cheesier.

"I have the world if I have you, they're one in the same. So just you is more than fine." Your eyes are closed, but you feel him shiver a little. "I wanna dance with you, though," you say, voice still soft and kinda raspy from sleep.

"Dunno if I can top what you just said even when I propose," he chokes out a laugh, or at least you think it's one. He shifts his hold a bit and starts leading you both in a lazy sway that starts near the toaster and ends next to the potted plant at the back door before starting over.

"When? Not if?" You tease him, a hand going to scratch the nape of his neck lightly.

"I'll never meet another you, so I'm pretty set on When."

"I'll say yes." Because you will. You can't imagine a life where you wouldn't.

"And I'll still cry when you do." You can tell he's crying now because it comes out shaky and his hold tightens a bit, before you lean back, stopping your impromptu waltz. Both of your hands come up to cup his face and look at his teary grey eyes before cooing at him.

"You big baby! Save those tears for When please. You'll be congested and sniffley all night if you don't stop." You start cleaning off his face with your sleeve, but he stops one of your hands and starts peppering your palm and wrist with small kisses. "I think I'm ready for bed now. Princess's orders," you say, dragging him towards your bedroom. You'll have to figure out tomorrow just how soon When is going to be, but for now you can hear the slow thumps of Hajime's steps as he follows behind you, squeezing your connected hand. It's not pressing in the least, you think, because it feels like there will be plenty of tomorrows too.

-----

When you wake up in the morning, it takes you an hour to realize Hajime had put the ring on your finger while you were asleep.

It takes you five minutes to run through town in your pajamas, barefoot to find and full on tackle him in front of the place he was about to get your breakfast in.

And it takes about two minutes of unintelligible blubbering on both your parts before anyone understands what is going on.

No one timed it, but if they did, it would've taken less than ten minutes for the whole town to find out via texts, calls, and yells down the streets and through windows that you're engaged.

[necrotic-nephilim]

jealousy really is the driving force of DamiTim as a ship. love that for them. love how Tim has the Robin mantle ripped away from him and he has to suffer the jealousy of watching Dick and Damian bond. how possessive over Dick Tim can be, to have him stolen by Dick.

even more so though, is the jealousy from Damian. how on earth do you cope when you finally get to be Robin, a role you've convinced is your birthright, and no one really likes you? every prefers the Robin who came before you? Dick regularly reminds you that he can always go and call Tim back when you act out? like the complex Damian has over Tim is unreal. Tim, who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had everything handed to him his whole life. he never had to struggle or fight for his place like Damian did. Damian has spent his whole life fighting and proving himself, and yet he can't ever seem to truly claw the mantle of Robin away from Tim. even when Tim lets it go, becomes Red Robin, they seem to share it. Tim can slip back into the role of Robin whenever someone like Dick or Bruce need him to, because *he's* the Robin who they need. he's the Robin who was able to find Bruce. he's the Robin that Ra's wants an heir out of. he's the Robin who even Jason respects. in Damian's eyes, everything Damian has fought tooth and nail for, was handed to Tim.

so of course he's going to react to Tim with violence and aggression, especially after finding out Tim has contingency plans for him. no matter how much Damian proves himself, he's never going to be enough, especially not to Tim. and so his deep refusal to see Tim as family, to acknowledge Tim's legacy is all driven by such an angry jealousy. Tim understands aspects of Bruce's legacy that Damian doesn't, like the need to sweet talk and play nice with the elites of Gotham, even if they're corrupt. they exemplify different aspects of Robin, and the aspects that Tim exemplifies are the aspects that Damian knows he'll never fully understand and therefore holds such a deep contempt for. he wants to fight criminals, not play nice with politicians. Tim understands the side of Gotham that's utterly foreign to Damian. if anything, he represents that side of Gotham, to Damian. a pretty little rich boy who's nothing but a know-it-all and not a real son of Bruce. he can't be a Wayne. he can't be Damian's family.

and all of that angry jealousy leading to unhealthy obsession turned a weird, angry crush from Damian is just my bread and butter. that is how DamiTim should be. to me. Damian obsessed over hating Tim Drake so much he accidentally ends up sort of in love with him and that only makes Damian angrier. because he can't prove everyone right by *also* liking Tim. he can't let Ra's win like that, because frankly why wouldn't Ra's be delighted by Damian and Tim getting together. and it builds and builds with angry passive aggression towards Tim that culminates in angry hate-fucking-that's-not-just-driven-by-hate. love and hate are always viewed as opposites in shipping and i think they're the same intense passion just in different directions. and for the best ships, they're very intertwined. what is DamiTim is not the peak of that. "i put so much of myself into hating you i had no choice but to fall in love with you somewhere along the way" core. love that bleeds into hate and hate that bleeds into love. "you make me so angry i regularly passively try to kill you but not with any real effort because who would i obsess over if you were actually gone" core. murder attempts as a form of courting. contingency plans to take each other out as a love language. they're unwell.

[man-i-love-folklore]

This is a Rant. Proceed with Caution.

ok so like what the actual fuck are some of you on. why why why would you think it's ok to harass a celebrity's gf just because they're dating your celebrity crush??? i mean this in the nicest way possible but like what changes in your life because hozier has a gf? be honest. what, now you have slightly less of a chance to get with a CELEBRITY who you are a STRANGER to? this is exactly what chappell was talking about. coming from someone that has been obsessed with this man for the past three months, my reaction was "wow, cool. good for him. hope they're happy". if you're harassing someone just for fucking dating someone you don't know, please put the phone down and get a life. thank you and sorry for the rant.

[spineless-lobster]

Are you fucking kidding me right now?! I was told we’d cruise the seas for american gold, that we’d fire no guns AND shed no tears, but NOW I’m a broken man on a halifax pier, the LAST of barrett’s FUCKING privateers!!! Honest to god the nerve of some people

[desceros]

Mr. LEON (think late 30's/early 40's) reuniting with his spouse after a long time away. It's sweet, it's silly, it's followed by absolutely nasty half-clothed, sweaty sex.

me, asks for rise leo prompts, instantly regrets it also i'm not saying this is a tactical!leo fic, but i'm also... not NOT saying it leonardo/reader, EXPLICIT, female reader, 2.6k; leo comes back and wants to smell like home again. filthy nasty smut, soft doki dokis, lame married people jokes, one (1) defiled couch

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, you don’t think twice when you see the rustle of your curtains. Not when you’ve finally, finally trained your stupid heart into not thundering out of your chest when you see it, thinking he’s back when it’s just the breeze. Today, you hardly even glance at them as you continue watering your plants, unbothered, humming, unsuspecting.

It’s so, so typical of him to wait until now to come home.

“Boo!” 

Your scream fills the apartment as you flail, pulse rocketing to the atmosphere in panic when you’re very suddenly not alone. Hands catch you mid-flinch, and it takes you a second to realize that your assailant is, in fact, perfectly safe and didn’t deserve the mighty swing of your watering can. 

Except actually, yes he did, this little asshole—!

“Leo!” you wail, letting him gather you close and press him to his plastron. Your hands clutch at the edge of his keratin, face burrowing in his throat. “You fucking asshole, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Couldn’t resist,” he says, his laughter still rolling at the crown of your head as one hand spreads into your lower back to press you close and the other cups your nape. “You just looked so cute, y’know? My adorable little wifey, wearing my shirt and humming in our living room.”

“Stop talking,” you mutter sulkily, wrapping your arms around his neck and swallowing the tears you feel burning at your eyes as happiness swells in your chest like a mighty wave. He always makes fun of you for crying when he comes home, and you’re already a little miffed. 

Your ire dies as you feel him nuzzling behind your ear with his beak, his lungs expanding as he inhales your scent. He’d confessed to you once, a few years into your marriage, that this was his favorite part of coming home; more than the sex, more than the home-cooked meals, more than sleeping in the same bed two nights in a row. He caresses the line of your throat with his beak, stitching your natural perfume back into place in his mind, sinking into you because it’s not the walls around you that he calls home.

“…Missed you,” he murmurs, making you sigh as he brushes lovesick kisses to your shoulder. 

“You were gone too long this time,” you tell him, lowering one arm to press a palm to his plastron when you feel his lips seeking more skin, letting him pull the neckline of his shirt away from your clavicle. “Thought you were the breeze, coming in.” 

His mouth curves into something filthy at the dip of your throat, his hands finding your hips and giving them a squeeze. “Yeah? Funny. I plan on coming in something, all right.”

You laugh way too hard, a little mortified that after all these years you still find this clown funny at the lamest lines. Worse still is how he watches you do it, his face going stupid with naked fondness like making you laugh is the best thing he’s done all day.

“You are such an unfunny loser, oh my god,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. 

“And yet you’re still laughing,” he says, his smile widening when you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve been stockholmed,” you tell him, reaching up your hands to cup his beak and pull him into a kiss. 

Leo has always been good with his mouth, in every way, all the years you’ve known him. His kisses are no exception; seconds into it you’re purring, the sweet friction of his mouth against yours warming you from the inside, parting on a soft sigh when a hand grips your nape and tilts you just so. 

“I wanna fucking eat you alive,” he mumbles against your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours once, twice, three times before he sinks his teeth into your lower lip and tugs. You tremble, and you know he feels it as his hands go a little tighter. “Missed you.” 

Your fingers find the tails of his mask, tangling in them and using them to pull his face away, just a little. He growls, but you ignore him easily. “Don’t you want to take a shower, baby? Get comfy while I cook you something to eat? You smell like work.”

“I know,” he says, his other hand sliding down to the cloth shorts that are barely visible beneath the hem of his shirt, his fingers gliding up the back to cup the curve of your ass. “And I wanna smell like you, now.”

…He gets like this, sometimes, when he comes home. Touchy. Possessive. You’ve always wondered if it has to do with how he doesn’t smell himself on you when he’s been gone, or if it’s because you start wearing his clothes like he’ll feel it wherever he is. The longer the separation, the worse he gets. 

The worse he gets, the better it is.

“Yeah? You wanna smell like me?” you echo as you trail your touch along the red crescents prettying his face, playing into his turtle-brain, feeling your eyelids close as his fingers flutter on your skin. Oh, he wants it bad. “What do I smell like, handsome? I smell good?” 

“So fucking good,” he groans, his huge hand releasing your nape to grip your jaw, pulling you into a kiss that’s wet and deep. It feels good, claws a mangled moan from your chest that has him mirroring the sound himself. He pulls his head back, pressing his thumb to the corner of your mouth and sliding it under your lower lip where you feel the slick mess of his kiss. “…Open,” he says, making your lip pucker under his touch. 

You obey, watching his pupils dilate as they lock onto your mouth, then your tongue when you let it press against the pad of his thumb where he’s holding you open.

“Shit. You’re so hot,” he says, a wounded rumble that makes your lips curl into a coquettish smile before you wrap them around his thumb, sucking and lathing it with your tongue, pressing your teeth in and closing your eyes when you hear him moan. 

“Not gonna smell much like me by staring at my mouth,” you tell him when you let him go, your hooded eyes meeting his as you smile.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he wheezes, and with three steps he’s got you splayed on your couch, the weight of him pinning you to the cushions while his mouth fucking devours you. All you can do is hold on, one hand tangling in his mask tails and the other clutching as his carapace, crushed and absolutely thrilled about it.

When he breaks the kiss to grip his hands in your shorts, pulling them down, you laugh, drawing his hungry gaze even as he doesn’t stop disrobing you. 

“What?” he asks, mouth going just a little crooked in a smile of his own as you shake your head, staring at him adoringly. 

“Just love you,” you tell him, shifting your legs to help him out a bit and biting down on a grin when you can finally spread them and slink your knees to either side of his hips. You slip one of your arms over your head to grip one of the throw pillows, your other trailing down your throat to entice.  “C’mon, pretty boy. Let me see you drop.”

Leo maintains the stare as he straightens his spine, his hands going to his belt buckle to slide it out of place with a metal clink. The button is quick to follow, and when he unzips and slides his pants down just enough for his cloaca to glisten in the afternoon sunlight, you press your fingers to your mouth, tongue instinctively seeking contact. 

“God, look at you,” you whine, your thighs rising to cup his hips and squeeze. “I wanna lick you. Come up here?”

He shakes his head, sliding two of his fingers into your open mouth and pressing on your tongue. “Later, baby. If you want a show, you’ve got, like, thirty seconds for it.” 

Moaning, you soak his fingers with your spit, watching with hazy eyes as he brings them to his cloaca and slides in to the knuckle. He’s always rougher with himself than you are with him, even though he’s told you again and again he prefers it when you’re the one fingering him. 

He makes pretty little gasping moans as he fingers himself hard, his arm flexing and drawing your hungry gaze. He’s gotten so god damned big over the years, making you feel small every time he does something that highlights the difference. It feels good, makes you feel kept, protected. So long as Leonardo Hamato draws breath, no harm will ever come to you, a promise he has the strength to keep.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut as the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of himself get wetter. It’s a familiar sound that makes you ache, craving the thick cock you know is about to slide out like it’s air. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, Leo,” you babble in praise, knowing he likes to hear it, that you like telling him. “Handsome as fuck. God, I can’t believe you’re mine, that you let me see you like this—”

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling his fingers out of you and pressing his cloaca to your cunt, his wet fingers gripping at your hips as he rubs your slick against his. “You can’t talk like that, baby, I’m gonna—”

He cuts himself off on a low groan, his hips rolling against yours and his tail pressing hard between your thighs to garner the friction. It feels so good, so fucking good, your skin burning hot with each messy glide of him against you. Your head rolls, fingers gripping in the pillow behind your head and back arching to try and writhe closer. 

“Leo,” you keen, breath heaving when he releases his death grip on the back of the couch to plant his hand by your head, his back arching over you and blocking everything else out. 

“Don’t come, don’t you dare come,” he hisses, lips curled into a bit of a snarl. “Not until I’m inside, understand?” 

Eyes wet, you nod, choking back the shimmer on your skin that builds as he keeps rubbing cruelly. With one particularly good roll of his hip, you snatch a hand to his bicep, trembling. “Stop, stop—!”

He pauses, letting you claw away from the brink to obey. Sucking in a long breath, you open your eyes and see that he’s staring at you like he’s gone mad. 

“Okay?” he asks, voice fucked out, and you nod, whining when he resumes rubbing his cloaca against you, your eyes falling shut and head lolling to the side as you start the burning process all over again. 

“Feels so good, Leo,” you breathe, skin glowing when you feel him duck in close and glide his tongue up the side of your neck. You’re soaked all over with sweat and slick, every muscle in your body trembling from taut desire that’s just shy of too-much, leaving you delirious and stupid.

With a hitched breath, Leo reaches between you, fingers preparing you for the familiar penetration you want more than anything else. With a hiss, his body goes taut, his cock dropping and sliding inside like his katana into its sheath; like you were made for him, perfectly molded, expertly designed. 

“God, fuck,” he wheezes, his forearms framing your face as he leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss that breaks on a low moan. He pumps his hips against yours slowly, shaking with each breath that has him bottoming out where he belongs. “You feel so—I missed you.” 

Floating with pleasure, you cup his nape, wrapping your legs around him as best as you can to pull him deeper, needing to feel him in your throat. Your hands find the back of his head, sliding easily on his rough, sweat-slick skin, seeking his kiss and finding it. “Oh, Leo, love you, love you so much.”

He marries his mouth to yours as he fucks in in in, feeling a bit like he never pulls out for how full he leaves you. Every neuron in your body stands at attention, taking note of his weight crushing you, the smell of his salty skin, the taste of his tongue as it curls against your own. 

“Look at me, look at me when you come, pretty girl,” he chokes, because he knows your body better than you do and can tell you’re close before you feel it. You open your eyes and meet his, untying his blue mask and letting it slide to your chest right as you feel your orgasm rising. 

“Leo, gonna come,” you whimper, watching as he nods, one hand finding your cheek, his thumb tracing under your eyes where they’re wet. 

“Let go, sweetheart. Let me feel it.” 

Like you do with everything else, you obey and come. It’s a long, wrenching thing, the pleasure washing over you like waves of a mighty ocean as he keeps moving, prolonging it, intensifying it. On and on it goes, your body awash with ecstasy and Leo, always Leo, there to hold you and let you fall. 

“Please,” you gasp, clenching at his carapace, begging him to meet you here in the glow. “Leo, please—” 

His hand drops down to your throat, fingers ever so slightly curling around as his hips thrust a little harder, the wet sounds of your hips meeting loud in your ears now that you’re listening for it. It’s filthy, his mouth hanging open and eyes going wild as they gaze at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. 

With a wounded sound he comes, his forehead dropping to your shoulder and hand going a little too-tight on your throat as he fills you over and over again, each hot thread coating and claiming in equal measure. You let one hand grip the back of his wrist where he’s choking you, crushing him in harder as he groans and presses into you even further as he finishes, watching as the edges of your vision go a little hazy before he releases you and lets you suck in a gasp of air. 

After a few moments of catching your breath, he picks up his head, his beak wrinkling a bit as he stretches his leg out with a hiss. “Gah, fuck, we’re getting too old for couch fucking. Made a fucking mess.”

“Never too old for couch fucking,” you rasp, causing his eyes to fall to where there’s a mark on your throat in the shape of his hand. He licks his lips, and you feel his cock give an interested twitch. “Oh? You gonna make good on that?”

“Too old for back-to-back marathon fucking,” he pouts, though he does arch his hips once in a good sport try that makes your skin light up a bit. “Gimme like, fifteen. I’ll eat you out while we wait, then we can do something about it.” 

You raise an imperious eyebrow. “Fifteen minutes of you eating me out? You? Leonardo Hamato? Only fifteen? I can’t believe an imposter of my husband is here when I was so sure it was him.”

He grins, a boyish thing that makes him look younger and captures your heart all over again. “…Yeah, okay. Let’s be ambitious and say half an hour.”

You settle into the couch, waiting for his cock to retreat back into his cloaca and spending the meantime trailing your fingers along the back of his nape, sighing out in delight. 

“…I missed you, too,” you tell him, watching as his face smooths out and every concern flies away like a butterfly startled by the breeze because he loves you so, so much and you know it. Then, realizing you hadn’t said it yet, “…Welcome home, Leo.”

“Yeah,” he echoes, bending down and nuzzling his beak against your temple, inhaling deeply with a smile. “I’m home.”

[fairyofshampgyu]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THE ALBUM RPEVIENHOFLY FUCK OMG OMG OMG 😭😭😭😭😭😭 HOLY FUCK 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[bisexualbailorgana]

my internal thought process watching the end of episode 3

[kaisollisto]

i promise you won't even know im there

[unknownarmageddon]

And I’m not gonna stop till I forget what we had

Cross belongs to Jael Peñaloza Lyrics from I Don’t Wanna Talk (I Just Wanna Dance) by Glass Animals

Got the idea and inspiration from this ask from @psycho-chair!!

[inbox-to-the-void]

Fresh's Theme: YOO I'LL TELL U WUT I WANT SO TELL ME WH Swap: FML

art source comes from here, fic made by @gaylordscooter

[IMAGE ID: A digital drawing of Swap Sans, visibly tense and hiding behind a broken wall. The wall is an almost-grey blue, the background is a slightly bluer and darker grey, Blue's background color is blue, and Swap's outlines are a paler version of his background. Behind the wall are rainbow all-capitilized words that switch color each line break. The words read "YOO I'LL TELL U WUT I WANT SO TELL ME WH", the words a reference to the beginning lyrics in Wannabe by Spice Girls. The rainbow words are cut off by the bottom of the broken wall. Swap's thought bubble background is his outline colour, while his speech bubble font color is colored in his background color. His thought bubble just reads "FML" in all caps. END ID]

[vaggieslefteye]

READY FOR THIS ↳ from Hazbin Hotel Season One (2024): 1x07 - "Hello Rosie!"