#anon holy shit

[chloesimaginationthings]

WAKE UP,

HAIKU BOT JUST REBLOGGED ONE OF YOUR COMICS

BLESSED BY HAIKU BOT ONCE AGAIN

(here’s the post)

[amef3ver]

u love raping kids? u should kys. ill make sure all u worthless radqueer whores get wiped out and fucked to death. GROOMING CHILDREN AND RAPING ANIMALS AND CORPSES IS FUCKING SICK THEY CANNOT CONSENT TO U UGLY FUCKING BITCHES. FATASS FREAKS. UR FAMILY AND FRIENDS HATE U SO JUST END IT ALL. u have no personality, being a rapist is ur only 'special trait'. kys kys kys kys kys. JUMP. DO IT. WORTHLESS DUMBFUCK. EVEN UR OWN COMMUNITY HATES U. AND NO I AM NOT FUCKING JERKING OFF WHILE TYPING THIS STFU PEDOS.

what

[becca-e-barnes]

I need more of needy Bucky who loses control from the feeling of being inside your pussy. I need him to fuck me like a rag doll and to carry me over his shoulder around the house like his personal flesh light.

Fuck, this has always been one of my very favourites to write. I really like to imagine that he struggles to last but he can keep going after he finishes 🙈 it's my lil filthy fantasy

But imagine spending the morning in bed with him. You both wake up around 6am and you spend the first little while just touching and chatting before a couple of hours of sex. Now it's maybe around 11am and after lying there together for a while, you're both in the mood for something to eat.

You pull a robe around you and that's just about as much as you manage before Bucky's scooped you up, carrying you to the kitchen.

"You don't need to carry me everywhere!" You tease, remembering that he'd carried you up the stairs to bed last night too.

"I know. But. Carrying you means. I. Can put you. Exactly. Where. I want you." He peppers kisses over your face and neck, tenderly capturing your bottom lip between his before he sets you up on the kitchen countertop.

There's no point arguing with him so you sit there quite happily. He makes up a quick pancake mix, washes some berries from the fridge, preps the coffee machine and sets the little dining table for the two of you.

Somewhere in between, you got a little distracted, perched on the counter scrolling on your phone. You hadn't noticed the way he's looking at you.

He's so caught up in the little things; the way the light hits your shoulder, the curve of your hips, the way the silhouette of your nipples are visible against the satin robe.

"Look at you, sitting there all sweet like your cunt isn't so fucking full of me."

That's got your attention.

You squirm a little, your body fluttering at how shamelessly vulgar he's being but nothing's stopping you from doing the same.

You spread your legs, exposing the slick mess coating your inner thighs. It's a mixture of your own arousal and Bucky's cum, dripping out of your sensitive cunt.

Your fingertips trail lazily over your exposed sex, your skin glistening in the natural light before you bring your fingers to your own lips, sucking them clean, giving him a little bit of a show.

"Tastes amazing, sweetheart." You groan, noticing the growing bulge in his thin pyjama bottoms. "But I lost track of how many times you came inside me this morning. You came so deep, most of your cum won't have dripped out yet. Bet I'm still totally stuffed full."

He sinks to his knees in no time, settling his head between your thighs, breathing in the faint smell of your arousal. His tongue presses flat to your sex, trailing from your hole to your clit and back, gathering as much of your combined release as possible.

He groans, low and pathetic, allowing his tongue to dip inside you as deep as he can bury it. He savours every drop of cum he earns back from your body.

When his tongue alone isn't enough, he slips a finger into you, followed quickly by a second, curling them against your sensitive inner wall.

"Bucky baby, please don't make me cum again." You groan, your fingers tangled in his dark hair but you know he's not giving you that choice. Not when his free hand is furiously stroking his own cock, desperate to ensure that when he's finished licking his cum out of you, he can flood your cunt with another load.

[dipperscavern]

yes dippy we should talk about bi cregan with bi reader!!

imagine them recruiting northern hotties for threesomes 🤭

mmf: cregan with another man (preferably jace) giving her that double worship. cregan always has the upper hand ofc even when it's not a twink but another big broody northern they're sharing their bed with. and when cregan gets to top him while he eats her out and she holds eye contact with cregan as he's fucking that guy.

ffm: it's either the same way that she is the center of attention OR cregan and her tagteam that other woman and fuck her stupid. cregan with his big fat uncut cock and her with her tongue and fingers while cregan fucks the other woman.

- respectful anon

pairing: cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon x reader

authors note: oh respectful anon… i read (preferably jace) and absolutely shuddered. oh my god . i’m sorry the other ideas in here are wonderful too i just have to get this out before i go off my rocker

jacaerys arriving in the north, bearing the colors of queen rhaenyra, and being greeted by cregan stark — and his comely wife.

he can feel his breath hitch as soon as he slides off vermax and spots you, arm wrapped around cregans bicep. even though the snow crunches under his boots and the early winter winds seep beneath his clothing, jace feels his skin run hot. and this time, he cannot blame it on the blood of the dragon.

once you approach, jace gives you both a respectful nod of his head, before cregan greets jacaerys with a firm handshake. jace takes your hand, kissing your knuckles, and says the tales do not do your beauty (they don’t). you only smile, dipping into a small curtsy and playfully telling him not to make you blush.

he spares a glance at cregan, a small worry of overstepping dancing in his gaze, but cregan only nods — a smirk adorning the lord of winterfells lips.

the very lips that have grown accustomed to the feel of yours.

the thought is shooed away as quickly as it arises. you’re married, and jace feels a pang of disappointment at the places his mind has a tendency to wander to. you’re extending your hospitality to him, he won’t disrespect you with such concepts (won’t he?).

once having vermax sorted, you & cregan then escort him to winterfell. cregan speaks of the north and its history, and jace replies when necessary, but he finds his gaze drifting from the lord of winterfell, and landing on the lady attracted to his side instead. jace, no matter how much internal scolding, finds himself ceaselessly returning to quietly study (admire) your features.

as you enter the castle, jace notices your cheeks are flushed from the cold. cregan, mid sentence, silently ushers you towards the nearest hall fire with the unforeseen hand on the small of your back. something unfamiliar stirs in him at the sight (want).

they swore vows to each other in sight of the northern gods, chides jaces inner voice.

but, no matter how much restraint he expresses, as his stay continues, he finds himself enamored.

enamored with the playful glimmer in your eyes, the way your hips sway as you walk, how your dress hugs your curves, your light teasing, your love for lemon cakes, how you always catch jacaerys’ eye even from across the room. he’s utterly, hopelessly enthralled.

and even worse, he’s given himself away

you, jace, and cregan have been proper. careful not to overstep, but aware enough to silently acknowledge the underlying tension that sits between you. jacaerys would’ve been content with this dynamic for the entirety of his visit, it would’ve been a good exercise of self control — if the day in the kitchens didn’t change everything.

the skies weep, the raindrops making a soft pattering noise on the windows all around the castle. it's a brief change in atmosphere, and gives him time to get used to the more intimate aspects of winterfell.

rain trapping you inside, you and cregan had offered to give jacaerys a proper tour of winterfell, to rectify the short one he had been given upon his arrival.

this particular instance, that made him run as hot as his temper, takes place as the tour winded to an end, and you all ended up in the kitchens. the same kitchens that jace, when supping with you both from then on out, can't stop thinking about.

you had pulled them in, relishing in the idea of swiping a few small pastries to hold your sweet tooth over until dinner - assuring him that the cooks were quite used to you and cregans troublemaking, & were sworn to secrecy with a toothy grin (his heart skipped a beat at the sight).

you had been successful in your "stealing", but the problem arose when cregan had been conversing with one of the cooks, as you and jace stood over the counter, bringing the two small lemon cakes to your mouth.

you were conversing about something — what that was, jacaerys couldn’t remember if his life depended on it. once finished with your pastries, you had some leftover cream on the corner of your mouth. of course, since you're the worst minx to ever bewitch him, you raise a thumb to the corner of your mouth, swiping it off. then (of course), you bring it to your lips, maintaining eye contact with jace, and (of course) suck it off.

whatever he was saying had instantly died on his tongue.

his response was his parted lips trying to bring in air to send to his lungs so he could breathe, but, of course, you seem to have taken his breath too. suddenly the kitchen feels hot, ovens contributing to a warm atmosphere that had quickly turned blazingly overwhelming.

his gaze stayed trapped on where your thumb met your (soft looking) lips, as every part of the white cream had been sucked off.

you were most surprised & pleased by his reaction, indeed. you had an inkling the prince might be taken with you, but you wouldn’t act without certainty. and here you had it, certainty of the utmost stature had fallen right into your hands — watching his gaze flicker from your eyes, to your lips, your cleavage... and back to your lips again.

cregans voice snaps jacaerys out of the trance he had found himself in, and he’s ashamed to say he had to ask cregan to repeat himself. if he wasn’t devoting all of his energy into acting normal, he would see the way cregan glanced at you with raised brows seeing the smile on your face.

regardless of how it came to be, you’ve caught on. and jacaerys is seriously considering how dearly he’d be missed if the ground were to open up & swallow him whole.

your actions now have a certain weight behind them, confidence guiding your every step. hands “accidentally” brushing each other, glances from across the room, subconsciously leaning into each others warmth, flirtatious “jests” that grow bolder by the day, always teetering on the line of jesting and meaning it (you always mean it). you fix his crooked tunic for him, shifting it the right way. jacaerys pretends the warmth emanating from your hands doesn’t make him dizzy.

still, even so, jace had been showing remarkable restraint — not allowing his princely regime to falter (much), and keeping in his remarks. until you both spoke about vermax.

you stood atop one of winterfells walls, watching vermax fly, dipping in & out of the clouds. he was beautiful, and jacaerys would never abandon the opportunity of a conversation with you (or about vermax, of course).

jace told you of how vermax hatched in his crib as a babe, and you wistfully remark on your childhood dreams of dragonriding. he tells you you'd make a fearsome dragonrider. you say you'd made a good dragon rider indeed, but, instead of looking at vermax, jace finds your gaze fixed on him.

you poorly conceal the hidden tone of voice indicating you don't mean the green-scaled dragon in the sky above you, but the chocolate-curled dragon next to you. you don't do a good job of hiding the grin that threatens to erupt on your face, either.

jace feels a furious blush adorn his face, and the corners of his mouth tug up in a repressed smirk. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his smile turning upside down as his gaze shifts back to vermax's soaring form.

"You speak truly. Any man would envy the dragon."

he pretends not to see the smile spreading across your face from his peripheral. you lean in closer to him, wrapping a hand around his bicep to punctuate your words.

"Men already envy you, My Prince."

he keeps his resolve as you walk away, but as soon as you're out of sight, he sighs — leaning his weight against the edge of the top of the wall, a shuddering exhale leaving his lips. gods have mercy on jacaerys velaryon.

after you sup for dinner, you and cregan escort him to his chambers, and jace feels taking on the entire green army by itself would be easier than this. trying to conceal his eyes being trapped on you, furious desire mounting in his stomach as guilt claws it’s way up his throat. it’s only by stroke of luck that you all walk in silence — he could not entertain a proper conversation if he tried.

does cregan know of your conversation? what would he say? what would he do? the very last thing he needs to be doing is disrespecting the warden of the north that he’s trying to ally.

these thoughts echo in his mind as you approach the door leading to his chambers. you three stop, jaces back to the heavy oak door as you and cregan stand in front of him.

“We shall see you in the morn, then.” says cregan.

jace nods, but his next words die on his tongue as you move from cregans side. his heart hammers in his chest as you saunter to him, standing on your tiptoes as your hand moves to cup his cheek. he subconsciously leans down for you, and you press a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, a breath to the right away from his lips.

seven save him.

his lips part with bated breath, eyes locked onto you as you pull away. his hands twitch with the need to pull you to him, and then he remembers your husband that’s standing right in front of you both.

jaces eyes widen, looking to cregan, but cregan only tilts his head.

his lips… is he smiling? as they hold eye contact, he spots amusement, content, and want (?) in cregans gaze, and then, the smallest of nods.

oh.

oh.

jace’s gaze flickers from cregan, to you, and back and forth a few more times. his breathing is unsteady as you return to cregans side, and you can’t (or don’t) hide your pleasure at his reaction.

“Goodnight, My Prince.”

he cant even manage a nod as you both turn to walk away, cregan shooting him one last look. the flustered prince of dragonstone retreats to his chambers, leaning his head against his closed & locked door — moving to fiddle with the laces of his breeches.

you and your husband certainly make quite the pair. cregan, steadfast, burly, & brooding (handsome), with a reserved playfulness only for you — and you, teasing, warm, & confident, with a seemingly reserved deliberateness to drive jacaerys crazy (not that it takes much, of course).

one night, when he thinks he's completely lost any hope of sanity, the gods decide to have a sort of cruel mercy on him.

it is lord boltons name day, and he has extended the planned celebrations invitation to jacaerys as well. you three depart as one, opting to travel by horseback instead of jace arriving on vermax days before you and cregan. most are surprised by his decision, indeed (did jace sacrifice his freedom on dragonback for the prospect of spending more time with you both?).

jace didn't know you rode horses. he acts like the swaying of your hips doesn't capture him, distracting him throughout the entire journey. you and cregan act like you don't notice (do you?)

you all arrive, and on the day of celebrations, allow the wine & northern ale to wash away your sins down your throat. cregans tolerance is highest, jace's is lowest, with you resting in the middle. his cheeks are flushed, and his prided self control has seemed to have left itself at winterfell. you converse with one another in a secluded corner, allowing everyone else to fade from view. you speak with loose tongues, and jacaerys feels cregans hand on the back of his neck, thumb creeping into his hairline.

you speak of the festivities, the travel, the gossip, dragonstone, and jaces own interests. he can see something lurking beneath your usual gaze, you were hiding something. your eyes flickered with uncertainty. no — you wanted to know something.

and then, the very question that broke the damn - sweltering with the combined pent up desire allowed to built over the last weeks.

"Are you untouched, My Prince?"

[lazylittledragon]

i feel like i need to tell you that i have the drawing of twilight baby kit saved to my favourites album and when i’m messaging my friend i send it to them then immediately delete it and deny any knowledge of it

the fact that i am distantly involved in a stranger’s psychological torment pleases me greatly

[0vergrowngraveyard]

"Even though Sonic lives by his own rules, his destiny is often shaped by the two constant figures in his life: his best friend, Tails, and his dastardly nemesis, Dr. Eggman." - info.sonicretro.org/images/6/6f/Sonic06_Prima_digital_guide.pdf#page=6

im not normal…the brubbersssss

[lucasandlily]

Rui x Reader who is really affectionate, but can't touch him because of The Curse.

A/N: I'm alive!! Rui my beautiful beautiful tragic boy. I've actually been having a lot of brainrot for this game, particularly an isekai AU that made me contemplate making RP blog (I love you guys btw. This is probably my first fandom where they're so active, I've been really well connected with this fandom somehow and it's so fun!!), so I figured I might as well be writing it down now. This is an idea I've had spinning in my head for a while, so it's VERY self-indulgent/insert, but enjoy!! AO3 link here

Rui's POV. Second-person pronoun "You" is used. Angst! But also fluff!! (825 words)

You’ve always been an affectionate little thing. It’s something Rui finds adorable about you, staying optimistic despite all that looms over you, not letting any of the ghouls he KNOWS can be more than a little much sometimes destroy your positive attitude. It’s as if you decided to be the light in a place that literally has dark in its name, and he lov admires you for that.

He can’t help but feel the bitter green of envy though, when he watches you ruffle Lyca’s hair after he whines at you for treating him like a dog. 

He pointedly turns away from the look Ed gives him over your head when you relax into his chest after he leans over your shoulder.  

He just laughs along at your drunken antics when you nuzzle into Haru’s hand, somehow even more touchy when your cheeks are flushed with alcohol. 

He tries not to remember the flash of hurt, confusion, the first time he’d backed away from your hand when all you wanted to do was give him a pat for a job well done. He doesn’t know if it hurt more when your face morphed into regretful understanding, or when you apologised and told him you’d try not to do it again. 

Rui tells himself it’s for the better when he notices you’ve been avoiding him for the past week. He’d have done the same to you anyway, if he realised his feelings were starting to fester. He tries to not let it get to him when he hears you enter the Obscuary mansion, only to quickly patter up the stairs without stopping by the bar first, as you would have done previously. 

Maybe before, he would have made it a little competition to see who could mess up the other’s hair more. He’d watched you run your fingers through Lyca’s after you’d tousled it out of place, anyway. Maybe in another life, you’d gently hold his face as you showered him with kisses. He’d do the same to you anyway, if he wasn’t forced to keep his hands to himself. 

If he didn’t notice you hold your hand back every time you saw his mask slip. If he didn’t see your hand stop short before pulling it back to tell him he had a bit of hair out of place. 

It’s all just part of the cursed life, he tells himself. He should be getting used to it by now, he sighs as he walks down the hall over to his room. 

Behind him, he hears the jingle of the bell you like to wear on your keychain. He turns at the sound of your quick steps approaching. 

“Rui! Ruiruiruiii!!” You call.

“Ah, there you are! Haha, I’m not going anywhere you know~ though I guess I don’t mind being chased?” He teases as you approach. 

You smile up at him brightly, “I have something to show you!” You tell him, he notices now that you have a hand behind your back. 

“Hm? Aw, did you get me a gift? And here I was thinking you were hiding from me!” He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. Your smile falters a bit as you blink at his confession. 

But before he can backtrack with a “Just kidding!” your smile lightens again, eyes filling with some sort of resolve as you pull out… a glove on a stick? in your other hand.

He doesn’t pull away when he feels the simulation of a hand on his head. He can’t, when you look into his eyes with such unmistakable fondness. The awkward, stilted movements as you try to run the imitation hand through his hair communicates how long you’ve wanted to do this, and the tears that well up in his eyes betray how much he’s needed it. 

He feels the cloth soak up the tears when you move the glove down to hold his face. It feels soft under his skin, and he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

“How long did it take you to make this?” He asks as you let him lace his fingers with your hand extension. He squeezes the plush hand, feeling the soft give before it reaches the stick inside, inspecting where the glove and stick are attached. 

“Um! A week? It took a bit of experimenting to get it to stay on… And they don’t really sell gloves on campus either.” 

Your eyes crinkle when you look at him, the corners of your lips pull up triumphantly when he lets go of the hand to let you pat his head again. 

“You deserve at least this much,” you tell him. “I know it’s not really the same or anything, but I don’t wanna leave you out, y’know?” 

“It was worth it though, if it made you happy.” You look into his eyes as you say this, and he can’t help but believe you.

Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! I love you (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[freezingcoldsystemtakes]

only systems with a perfect square headmate count are real :/ otherwise you're just being irrational :////

.

[shizunitis]

Consider:

Binghe wishes to no longer be half Heavenly Demon… only the wish ends with him becoming a heavenly being and immediately ascending to the heavens, where he is tasked with fulfilling the duties his fallen ancestor abandoned.

Binghe wants to return to the mortal realm (to be with Shizun), but isn’t allowed to do so. The only way he can return is if he follows the example of his ancestor… and becomes a full Heavenly Demon.

Now ordinarily there would have been the possibility of Shen Qingqiu cultivating enough to ascend himself, meaning Binghe could just wait for him, but since Shen Qingqiu is plagued by Without-a-Cure the chances of him ascending have gone from ‘unlikely’ to ‘impossible’.

(And of course the only way for him to be cured of without a cure is dual cultivation with a Heavenly Demon).

Ah, the angst!

can you imagine how shen qingqiu would react to finding out the news?

he’d hear whispers of some new ascended god on his travels.

whispers become curiousity, become rumours, become praise, become prayers. ascended after death, recognised by heaven after being felled by demons in the worst attack the human realm has seen in a long time.

in the eyes of the people, luo binghe becomes the god of fortune, of overcoming adversity, of overturning fate, of rising from the ashes.

they come to learn of his dilligence in his studies, his adoration for his shizun, his terrible childhood. of course, it all reaches qing jing peak.

now, shen qingqiu must grapple with the fact that he had raised binghe to be better than his book counterpart, but that in doing so had lost him in a, somehow, much more harrowing way. he had expected to be hated, scorned and killed. he did not expect that he would be left behind.

he waves off the congratulations of the people around him, the praise of having raised such a capable, powerful disciple. what would he even say? how thick of a face would he have to have in order to take credit for what binghe had done in spite of his treacherous shizun? and what’s his deal, being so bitter about the whole thing? clearly, he needs to let this go. it’s unbecoming.

and he is happy for binghe.

it’s just unexpectedly lonely, to know that he would never see him again.

(he will.)

[limeschuck]

oh, so the tumblr ceo decided to lead with the wile e coyote bullshit instead of any of these supposed more serious threats because ???????????????????

i see now. thank you anonymous tumblr user; i am sure you are very unbiased, especially since the only threat i can think of on my page is my "hate trans people? kill yourself" post

i wonder why you might consider that a threat!

i wonder i wonder i wonder

(edit: added image description)

[agustdiv1ne]

txt finding out you have an onlyfans...

OH FUCK. OKAY! i think all of them would be shocked in some capacity hmm let's get into it (rest of the members under the cut!)

yeonjun would find it when the two of you are still just friends, videos of you fucking open your pretty pussy with dildos that almost look too big for you to take. he subscribes before he even realizes it's you, mostly because you only ever posted things from the waist down, but one day you get bold and post a full body shot. your face is out of frame, but he could recognize that chain around your neck anywhere, the friendship necklace he gifted you all those years ago, dangling so prettily between your breasts as you ride a ridged dildo til your legs are quaking. it's in that moment that he realizes that he's been jerking off to you for months, imagining your pussy wrapped around his cock when he so desperately needs to get off, and god, he wants to fuck you so badly now, make you his. guilt begins to eat at him as he continues to stroke his aching cock to the video, your moans growing louder and more ruined — but when he hears you whisper his name, barely there if you weren't truly listening, he immediately spills all over his hand. fuck. fuck, you think about him when you're doing this — and suddenly the guilt inside him vanishes. you're his, and he's gonna show you the next time you come over

soobin would accidentally walk in on you filming yourself one day when he quietly entered your apartment since you gave him a spare key. poor baby, he'd immediately begin to apologize, slapping his hands over his eyes as he rushes to leave, but your pitchy whine of his name makes him pause. with his back facing you, he asks what you need, his cock growing painfully hard as you beg him to help you, that the small dildo that you're fucking yourself with isn't enough. "please soobin," you whine. "need you so bad." and fuck, okay, soobin's not gonna pass this opportunity up, not when he's been crushing on you for months now. he climbs into your bed, towering over you with cheeks as red as rubies, feeling as if he's dreaming — until the blinking red light from your camera catches his eye. he glances over at it, and you hurriedly explain what you do as a side hustle, scrambling to go to turn it off, but his big, strong hands stop you. looking back at him, you find his eyes have darkened, his presence looming over you as he tells you to keep it on. the next day, your highest tier subscribers get a video of soobin's head between your legs, hair covering his eyes as the obscene, wet noises of his tongue playing with your clit mix with your breathy moans

beomgyu (who's your roommate) would, similar to soobin, stumble upon you fingering yourself in front of a camera — but he'd go about it in a completely different way. he's such an icky, closeted perv, watching you through the crack in your barely open door as you fall over the edge, hiccupy sobs pouring from your lips as you overstimulate yourself. his cock twitches in his pants, and he takes no time shoving a hand beneath his boxers, stroking his cock at the same rhythm as the fingers plunging in and out of your walls, the sloppy sounds of your pussy pushing him towards release faster than he expected. it becomes routine, coming home quietly on days he knows that you film just to watch you — but you're not stupid, no, you know that he's been watching you...and so you leave your door open a little wider the next time, inviting him in and asking if he liked seeing all your content for free, asking him how he's gonna repay you...and when he takes the camera from your tripod, spreads your legs wide, and shoves his boxers to down to reveal his aching, red-tipped cock, you bite your lip and demand that he puts it in already. he becomes your personal cameraman as he fucks you, grunting out how his cock must be so much better than your smaller fingers, filming your fucked out expression as you beg for him to cum inside

you would ask taehyun what he thinks about onlyfans when your relationship with him starts to grow more serious, looking to gauge his reaction. he's smart, though; you should've known he would figure it out right after you ask him. "are you trying to tell me you have one?" he would ask with an eyebrow raised, and you lowkey freak out and say that it's just a hypothetical question. just from your reaction alone, it's so obvious that you do. while taehyun might be a little jealous, he's a lot more turned on at the thought, ordering you to come sit in his lap while he tells you that he doesn't mind if you do have one — he knows you'll always be loyal, after all. he trusts you. he asks questions about it, and as you tell him what kind of content you film, face growing hotter, you feel his cock harden beneath you, and then his hands begin to guide your hips over him. you stutter through your sentence when he bucks his hips up to grind his boner into your covered pussy, gasping as his motions grow more brazen. it ends with you dry humping him on your couch, exchanging slow, spit-slicked kisses until the both of you cum in your pants. a hand travels up to your throat before you can even catch your breath, his voice deep as he asks if you think your subscribers would like couple's content

kai is not as innocent as he seems, getting off to videos of women humping cute lil stuffies until they orgasm, clips of them playing with their tits until they're swollen and achy, one little touch can set them off...god, they're so hot, but all he can think about is you whenever he watches them, his cute, bubbly best friend. imagine his surprise when he finds your onlyfans one day — and that's the exact content you produce. the first video of you he stumbles upon is one of you playing with your clit at first, before you're sitting up on your knees and placing a stuffie between your legs and. wait. holy. fucking. shit. that's the one he gifted you last week. the one he sprayed with his cologne because you've told him how much you love it. kai's cock twitches at the sight, gulping as you begin to moan and whine, hips moving faster against the soft material until you're crying, whispering that it's too much. he nearly cums untouched as you quake above the toy, toppling over the edge as your torso collapses into the bed, but you don't stop. not until you've cum three times just with his little gift. he's slack jawed, drool pooling under his tongue at the tantalizing sight of you spreading your lower lips to show the camera the sticky mess between your thighs. he subscribes immediately, hoping that you don't recognize his user, pengning02. with plans to hang out with you later that night, he's anxious the rest of the day — but when your hangout ends with your pussy smothering his face and your tongue dragging along his cock, kai realizes that maybe, just maybe, you need him just as badly as he needs you

[welcome-to-green-hills]

I don't know how important it is in the grand scheme of things, but the explosive energy from Metal Sonic's arm cannon is pink, not unlike the female hedgehog who puts a stop to him…

…. DUN HURT MY BEANIE BABY TIN CAN SNOK😡🔪🔪🔪💥

[the-mpreg-guy]

Your au infected me so here’s a short lil’ thing I wrote for you through Cas’ pov.

Castiel was avoiding his charge. 

He could hear Sam Winchester's prayers, requesting information on the seals, asking philosophical questions about the nature of good and evil. And this was good, correct. He was supposed to be weighing his actions, proving his worth as the Michael Sword— and Castiel was supposed to be there, guiding him. It was a sacred duty— one that when initially bestowed upon him, Castiel had spent weeks in thankful supplication.

He'd rescued The Righteous Man from Hell, delivered him back to earth, acted as guardian for him to ensure his carefully reconstructed psyche did not snap under the weight of his experiences. Then the older brother had summoned him into a barn. Lucifer's vessel. Castiel felt his borrowed skin crawl in sympathy for having to be in the same room as that—

When he'd first laid eyes on the older brother, he'd only felt surprise. Surely, there was some mistake. His soul, while lacking the same heavenly light as Sam Winchester's, was simply beautiful. It made Castiel pause. He'd felt some sort of… pull. The older brother's anger towards him made his vessel chuckle. His lack of fear was charming. Castiel left the encounter feeling buoyed, despite himself, and then deeply ashamed of that. While his first urge was to return to his battalion, to absolve himself of this strange feeling, he found that the closer he got to confessing, the more hesitant he felt. Castiel wrote it off as not wanting to admit that he spoke to the monstrosity.

Angels were not naturally curious, did not tend towards confusion. Yet, here Castiel was. Circling the brothers, avoiding his duties so that he could pretend that he did not want— want, was this what it was?— to be in the same room as Lucifer's vessel. To listen to Dean Winchester's insults and jokes that (thinly) veiled his deep insecurities. He stood, invisible, in the room as he watched them work, pouring over research on the laptop between them. He focused his perception through his vessel's eyes so that he did not have to watch the distracting play of light and colour of Dea— both Winchester's souls.

"Fuck, it'd really help if your little guardian angel would answer any of these fuckin' questions." Dean Winchester said, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands.

Sam glanced over at his brother, shrugging. "I'm sure he's got better things to do than follow me around dude."

Dean snorted. "Sure. He's got such a fuckin' hard on for you."

"Gross, man, can you just— stop being a dickhead for like, 5 seconds?" Sam muttered, engrossed in his work.

Watching the brothers through his vessel's eyes worked, initially. He had very little context this plane of existence, the clumsy way their limbs moved through the physical realm. But his eyes kept sticking on the way the older brother leaned back on the rear legs of his chair, rocking precariously back and forth while chewing his bottom lip. The line of his shoulders when he stretched, the short hairs on the back of his neck. The scar on the side of his face, just below his ear. Castiel's hands itched to heal it, smooth the skin over. He'd reconstructed every molecule of the Michael Sword's body when he pulled him from the pit. Castiel knew first-hand at how the brother's lives had treated them, had unknotted the scar tissue and smoothed over the gouges in Sam's body. Perversely, he wished he could do the same for Dean Winchester. Immediately felt deeply guilty— why did he have the urge to prepare Lucifer's vessel for him? Was the devil exerting his influence on Castiel from within the cage? How?

"Try praying again." Dean complained to his brother. "See if he'll stop by."

"I told you already, it won't work." Sam said, but sighed and sat back closing his eyes. "Castiel, are you there?"

Dean tipped his chair too far back and began to fall. Letting himself become visible, Castiel caught the back of it and pushed it upright, feeling smug when he heard Dean's surprised yelp.

"Hello Sam." Castiel said, refusing to look down where his hand was still resting on Dean's chair. Could feel the tips of his fingers against the rough cotton of his flannel. "Do you require assistance?"

I'm begging you to put this on AO3 so I can bookmark it

[mxrcusflint]

Mundane - Jake is absolutely obsessed with Bradley’s long legs (as we all are) and having them wrapped around him and/or stretched over his shoulders (if ya know what I mean ☺️)

Insane (is it?)- Jake gave Bradley his callsign because of just how protective Bradley can be of people he considers “his” (can kind of see it in the movie with how he loses it when Jake insinuates that Goose’s death was Mav’s fault). Jake who has never felt protected in his life, who had to fight tooth and nail to “deserve” his position, who always kind of wanted to be part of Bradley’s people. And Bradley who IS protective of Jake, just never to his face. Who doesn’t let his squadron talk shit about the blonde. Jake is HIS to insult. Jake might be his rival but the key word is his.

AU - this has been swirling around in my head for months now but here is the prompt. Bradley must have hit his head ejecting, that’s the only reasonable explanation to this hallucination of familiarity in the voice drawling his last name over the airwaves. Because the only other option is that the man who went MIA almost 5 years ago, the love of his life, his almost fiancé, is the infamous and faceless Hangman- the ruthless leader of Admiral Cain’s special squadron, the Drones. Hangman who has been watching him for weeks, offering unsolicited scathing critiques of his flying in that weird machine modulated tone coming through his ever-present helmet. The modulated tone that’s missing now.

mundane: so real, Bradley is 80% leg and Jake will maximize on that, fandom needs some more Bradshaw in tight shorts running around on the beach

insane: very Bradley, and love to see that edge and possessiveness explored in more ferocious depths AU: anon i think you've just sparked a potential for blind devotion part 4 because holyyyyyy shit. holy shit. i have so many questions like – was this something Jake volunteered for or was he pulled into an office thinking it was just another special briefing only to never walk out

[lottiesgrl]

ok but having sex with shauna post-crash while she's hallucinating jackie... hear me out. you were with shauna before the crash and you've been worried sick about her, hoping every day that they find her. when they do and she comes home, you're absolutely wrecked to see the state she's in. you give her space but she's the one that comes to you wanting to have sex again. everything is fine in your eyes, but to shauna, she's only seeing jackie. jackie's face, jackie's eyes, jackie's hair where your features should be. you only realize when she starts to cry, tears falling down her face, and she moans out jackie's name when your fingers hit her g-spot. UGH.

...do i turn this into a full fic? 🫣

[coeur-de-fruk]

Spiders? spider.. Spider! spider.

The giant enemy spider *beatboxes*