#anyways that will need some finessing

[demenior]

i literally do not remember if i've already sent an ask but if i haven't i would love to hear about the critrole werewolf AU pretty please! and if i have. then i would like to hear about it again anyway 👐

Check my list of current wips here and send me a title and I’ll post a bit or share some details about it.

The CritRole Werewolf au is a mighty nein werewolf au. I set it in a vaguely modern world, but... in the 90s/early 00's. I wanted it to have some Buffy/Blair Witch/Lost Boys vibes. Like, grotesque and terrifying but with moments of absurd humor and a really bitchin' soundtrack. The Brjeau's are, loosely, the main characters.

Beau and Fjord were the intro duo. They're amateaur ghost hunters touring the country's most haunted locations. They're using Beau's absent fathers' credit card to fund them sleeping in Fjord's work van and get them access to dope shit like handheld video cameras and microphones that Beau uses to prove the supernatural is real. (Fjord films/runs tech. He a) doesn't believe in the supernatural and b) is terrified of it).

They pair up with Caleb- a mysterious dude in a long duster coat with a weird accent who may or may not be a monster hunter, and Veth- who's definitely just some normal housewife who just so happens to hate werewolves and definitely isn't one. They join the team after a scary event where Fjord is lost for a few days in some weird haunted place/sacred temple to some old forgotten wolf god. Caleb and Veth want to make sure Fjord isn't cursed, Beau is thrilled to be proven right that the supernatural exists, and Fjord thinks this is all ridiculous. So what that he's been having some weird dreams? That doesn't mean anything.

(You can see where this is going).

To keep things reigned in, I tried to limit all the supernatural entities to just werewolves (save for Fjord's eventual eldritch horror wolf thing he has going on).

Yasha, Caduceus, Fjord, Veth and Jester are all werewolves. Some of them were born werewolves, some of them were turned. Some were turned willingly, some not(t). Caleb and Beau remain Team Human (though Scourgers are now werewolf hunters, and through grueling training are a weird almost "half" werewolf, so they can't be turned).

[cent-scratchnsniff]

doodle dump

[erabundus]

thinking  about  the  surprise  when  ren  felt  when  he  first  started  using  anemo  —  that  he  doesn't  have  to  wrestle  with  his  own  element  to  make  it  obey  him,  that  he  can  fight  free  of  pain  and  free  of  putting  any  unnecessary  strain  on  his  body.

[curiosity-killed]

Trying to figure out how to frame “my manager is incompetent and kind of a shitty team lead” in a way that’s like “I just want to be able to work together better :) so we can all be successful :))”

[wolvisms]

ok across the spiderverse thoughts in the tags

[thehardkandy]

talked to my dad on the phone and he's convincing me to get a master's degree so i can get cheaper insurance

[coffee-and-geto]

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY PANTIES?”

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: in a lazy, hot summer afternoon, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to do the laundry. but why doesn’t he respond when you’re asking where’s your panties?

warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, gojo is your boyfriend, needy! gojo, cute! gojo, fluff, nipple play, panties sniffling, masturbation (m), oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, sex (p in v), also based on a @/yunonoai’s comic!

wc: 2,128

“Babe, can you do the laundry? I have a call.”

“Sure,” Satoru replies, standing up from the couch where he was lazily lying down, chilling out in front of some tiktoks.

He steps towards the bathroom, the laundry hamper waiting for him to be emptied and washed. With a resigning sigh, he looks down at the heap of dirty clothes. One of them overhangs them all: your favorite panties — the one he bought you last month. 

The lace surrounds with finesse the satin fabric of your favorite color.

So how can he not be hard at the only sight that reminds him how long you both haven’t had sex?

Fuck.

His breathing becomes heavier, each inhaling being a trial to not pay attention to the prominent bulge swelling down his gray jogging pants. Of course, the memory of your whimpers will always be like music to his ears, the fwap sounds of his cock buried deep, so deep, inside of your wet pussy, and his balls, so much filled with his cum and tightening when he's about to climax, slapping against your ass at each pound into you.

He is grouching now, at the edge of whining in need of your full attention — but of course, you needed to have a call at this very moment.

His hand twitches to his crotch, palming his already hard erection through the soft fabric of his pants, electricing at quiet moans, Satoru’s beautiful face wincing in pleasure. He swallows thick, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives in. With messy movements, he lifts up his black shirt to grab the hem at his watering mouth and muffle his cute sounds between his clenched teeth and jaw. The fresh air blow at his hard abs, making him tensing his belly with scorching skin.

His big, calloused hand fiddles with his erection, so ready to free himself from the torturous sensation of your pretty panties, which he holds between his fingers and brings to his nose to inhale your scent, which makes him like a little puppy for you. Satoru utters a desperate whimper and finally buries his hand under his clothes to release his quivering cock.

It’s much bigger than usual, beads of precum glistening on the angry red tip, and veins sinuating the flesh. Of course, it’s perfect. That’s why it will never seem strange to anyone to see him stroke himself. He lazily fucks his tight fist, picturing your sweet pussy as he closes his eyes, beads of sweat leaking from his temples a flush spreads all over his cheeks.

His length girth throbs between his digits, coursing waves of lust through him as Satoru quickens the pace, as the same as his heartbeat. Saliva damps the fabric of his black shirt, and the idea of substituting the hem of his shirt with your panties carries out straight away, increasing his arousal until it’s twitching in a maddened way. With each stroke, the pre spreads along his shaft to allow it to be lubricated, at the point that if you all of a sudden show up in the bathroom, you both can skip the foreplay but damn!

“Toru? Did you see my panties?” Your voice echoes through another room.

But he doesn’t answer anyway.

“Fuck,” he grunts in a quiet whine, “miss you so much, babe.” His balls tighten, following the next moment — and it doesn’t take that much time he expected, because a few seconds after he twists his wrist in an upstroke movement — the exact way you’d do to him — he’s already cumming on the heap of laundry, dirtying them even more they already were, puddles of a viscous liquid, spreading out in droplets as the orgasmic peak subsides.

Panting heavily, he doesn’t hear you burst into the bathroom as you exclaim, “Satoru? You serious? Look at the state of the laundry now!”

With a swift gesture, he removes your panties from his mouth and turns his head suddenly towards you. He’s unable to justify himself and simply watches your disapproving pout ruffle your pretty lips. “Sorry babe, I'll clean it up.” He also notes how your mere presence makes him hard immediately despite having softened a moment earlier with the moment of “relief” he wished to provide for himself.

“Where are my panties?” you ask a second time as you rummage, eyebrows furrowed, through the basket of dirty laundry.

Satoru rubs the back of your neck nervously and hesitates to hide your underwear in his palm. “Uh... here,” he murmurs softly, slightly discomfited as you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“You’re that much needy?”

Satoru looks down, a little boyish pout on his lips that breaks your heart. “Sorry...”

Your frown softens. “Oh, um— No, Toru, please don’t gimme that look,” you whisper, walking over to him, your hands instinctively cupping his cheeks to make him look down at you. “I’m sorry, my love. You need to tell me when you need me, okay?”

Satoru nods slowly, still guiltily pouting. “Can I have you? Please? Just one round, I swear I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs.

His request makes your lips curl up. “My boy does want me? You’re cute, almost begging like this.” You graze a kiss on his cheek. “Get on your knees.”

“Like that?” His knees make contact with the floor, his cock still outside his dangling jogging suit. He so fucking cute, listening to you so obediently.

“Good boy,” you coo, sliding pants down your thighs. Your black panties hug the swell of your hips, your intoxicating scent spreading toward Satoru’s nostrils.

He moves towards you using his knees to grip your hips and sniff your scent once more. The action makes you giggle so much that it makes you suck in a breath when he pulls down your underwear to kiss your groin. “Love you,” he whispers. “I want to taste you, please.”

“Satoru, just wait I—” But he cuts you off, darting out his tongue to lick a strip enough to feel your bundle of nerves. A moan escapes your lips, driving your breath as crazy as he’s doing with his skillful mouth.

“You’re dripping,” Satoru comments, kissing your lower lips swiftly before grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you up, dropping you off the washing machine. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled, all needy and flushed to eat you out.

And how long he hadn’t—

It’s like he’s drunk on you, ignoring your moans and whimpers as he rests his cheeks on your inner thigh to wrap his wrist around your thighs. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs, trapping you firmly. “Keep ‘em spread, baby,” he purrs, lapping your soaked core and sensitive, puffy clit. “It tastes s’good, I’ve missed you.”

His dick twitches and throbs afterward, your sweet sounds re-hardening him and making him more swollen than he was even after the few rubs he did to relieve himself.

“Hmm, ah, Satoru, you—” you trail off, throwing back your head against the wall, your hands grabbing the washing machine’s edge until your knuckles turn white. “I’ll be close, I—” you babble, and the realization of how much not having sex with him for so long is turning you into a virgin-like. And also, the clenching feeling of your pussy, lips parting and closing around nothing hits you so hard.

You need to cum on his cock.

“Satoru, stop,” you gasp, your fingers snaking gently through his white lock and tugging them carefully.

He stops the moment after your whine reaches his ears — a sound ringing like music to his ear. “But… I haven’t made you come yet,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit slowly with his forefinger and middle finger. His cute pout is now begging you to give him grace.

“I want to cum on your dick,” you clarify, leaning in, your lips pressing down a gentle, loving kiss on this beautiful forehead of him.

“You sure? I haven’t stretched you beforehand.” He rises from his former crouching position and holds his sensitive length closer to your core.

“I don’t mind, I just want you right now,” you blow out, kissing his free hand.

Satoru blushes — and oh, how can anyone fall in love with this cute little face you want to madly shower with cuddles and kisses? “Can we put it in while I kiss you?” he requests, bringing his lips closer to yours.

You let out a little laugh, pressing a first kiss on his lips. “You’re so cute.”

But something makes your eyes drop lower, and you feel it. Satoru’s hand holds his shaft enough well to tap the tip and the length below on your core, teasing your squelching cunt.

“C’mon, don’t tease me, I want you n— Ah!” He shuts you down by crashing his lips on yours and sliding himself easily in you, stretching you impossibly wide. “S-Satoru, you’re bigger than usual,” you whimper. 

Your hands grab his broad shoulder, nails sinking in his compressed black shirt, lips moving on their own to taste yourself on his wet lips. His tender tongue asks to enter you, and you allow him, soft strokes on each other’s tongue.

Satoru moans in the melting kiss, waiting for you to adjust, and starts gentle back and forth hips moves, hissing through his teeth by the sweet, delicious tightness of yours. “You feel so good,” he squeals between kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You gasp, swallowing hard because of the different paces your brain can’t focus on — stolen kisses and perfect pounds into you. It’s so deep, so mastered, that it’s driving you mad and making you see stars.

Breaking the kiss, Satoru wraps his muscled arms around your back and encircles you flush against him, your heartbeat matching with his, and your fingernails slide down his back as you almost lose strength and balance every time his tip brushes against your cervix, etching red scratch marks for sure on his back as soon as he will remove his shirt.

With another buck before pulling out fully, he slides back in and manages to reach your deepest point, making your back arch and cry out. “Satoru, please, I’m so close,” you whine, wincing because of his hips rocking in you faster and harder. 

The washing machine sways to the same rhythm, threatening to give way under your weight. Your heavy, ragged breaths fill the air in a kind of steam room. Blood beats at your ears, your gummy walls clenching around his long, big dick without ceasing and have mercy for you.

But as if that wasn’t enough, Satoru slides your top off with a swift movement of his hand to free one of your breasts and taste the nipple. He sucks hard, tongue pulling and swirling at the nub like no other. The action makes you roll your eyes, the overstimulation engulfing you like a wave would.

He then uses his head to tease your nipple with a gentle tug, his cerulean-blue eyes captivated by your curve. You squeal, your walls swallowing up his thrusts inside you, tightening more and more until he gives in and takes you back into his arms, but this time with a hand under your thigh to lift it up and enable him to reach an even more precise and deep angle, making you scream out his name.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” Satoru warns you, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and his jaw tense from clenching. “Please, where—”

“Inside me, Satoru,” you whimper in the hollow of his neck, closing your eyes before the following ride crashes the two of you.

Pussy clenching around his length, you squirt on him with a small cry, and Satoru does likewise, twitching as he grunts and his hips jerk to reach your womb and fill you up with his cum.

Muscles trembling from the aftermath, you pant against him, as weak as after an intense workout. “I’ve missed you so much,” Satoru whispers in your ear, in the same state as you. His large, quaking hands stroke your hair, soothing you.

White strings escape from your full, swollen-lipped pussy, the sound of trickling filling the silence of the room.

“I promise I’ll do the laundry, but please, can we have cuddles?” Satoru demands, blinking down at you with puppy-dog eyes.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder and nod, a smile stretching your lips, as you reach out to stroke his cheek.

“Of course, my baby.”

DING DONG.

The ringing of the front door echoes in your ears and a memory pops into your head, slapping you in the face.

“Wasn’t Suguru supposed to come to borrow the washing machine here because his is broken?”

Satoru froze, flickering his eyes. “Huh?”

a/n: feelin to write something cute and smutty haha! i think writing things easy like this is unwinding me.

see how he’s so cute? 🥹 pls God give me one…

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t

[kannagen]

went to my college’s bars for the first time this weekend and they were exactly as i expected. i did pregame too hard and was veryyyy drunk and i did have fun but they are lame and full of people i have no interest in. but alcohol and music will work on me regardless and no cover so whatever it was fun to be white girl wasted and bar hop for a night ☺️

[xinganhao]

🎭 svt when idol!reader releases a breakup song.

anon → "may i request when idol!s/o releases a breakup song? maybe for like a promotion or a comeback but not because of svt iykwim"

⌗ ┆ i have a soft spot for my earlier idol!reader work so it was fun to revisit them <3 a little more crack, less headcanons than usual lol

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: idol!reader, f!reader, established relationship, pet names, fluff, crack, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🎭 headcanons .ᐟ

— drama line ✩ seungcheol, junhui, mingyu, vernon.

all the boys are bound to kick up a fuss one way or another, but nobody throws a tantrum like choi seungcheol. that man will be on your case for weeks. "why couldn't it have been a love song? why are you so good at singing about breakups?" junhui is equally dramatic, though in a different manner. he goes down the route of spite. the song is officially banned in the dorms. if anyone plays it in his vicinity, he will honest-to-goodness glare them down. as far as he's concerned, you have no reason to be crooning about situationships when you have a perfectly good partner waiting for you at home! mingyu is in the exact same boat, by the way. he is personally offended. he knows he's been a good boyfriend. and you're out here singing like he's broken your heart? oh, hell no. mingyu is going to get ridiculously over the top with his boyfriendisms to prove a point to— well, maybe just to himself. in contrast to the rest, vernon takes a different approach. a little moral high road, if you will. he doesn't whine about it, but he does get— in the other boys' words— 'emo' about the whole thing. an instagram rebrand? frank ocean being one of his top artists of the month? ... you get the picture.

— sweetheart line ✩ joshua, soonyoung, wonwoo, seokmin, minghao, seungkwan.

a good number of the boys would take the breakup song with relative grace. joshua is aware that it's strictly work, but he doesn't miss out on the opportunity to tease you a bit about it. he'll take any opportunity to remind you of how much he cares about you, even if it is in a roundabout sort of way. wonwoo usually errs more on the side of rationality, too, though this breakup song scares him just a teensy bit. he doesn't bother you about it; he'll cope in his own little way until he comes around. (he's not opposed to reaffirmations of your love, though.) at this point? soonyoung and seungkwan can be a comedy act, really. we have soonyoung apologizing for every little thing he's done, just so he can ascertain that you will not be writing about him in your next album. and then we have seungkwan who assumes the song is a not-so subliminal message of some sorts; he is immensely relieved when you tell him that you're not, in fact, ending things via comeback. and the sweetest of them all. seokmin doesn't care if it's a four minute song. he'll take apart every single lyric, offering you reassurances that you don't even need, until you have a hard time performing the song with sincerity because your boyfriend has made it much less convincing. meanwhile, minghao spends hours ruminating before just asking outright. he's a bit shy at the fact that he's potentially overthought this, although he'd much rather be overprepared on being a good boyfriend than fall on the other end of the coin.

— revenge line ✩ jeonghan, jihoon, chan.

did you think jeonghan was kidding about couple's therapy? absolutely not. booking a session for the two of you is, in part, a joke, sure. but he's also a believer in therapy, anyway, so it becomes one of your... admittedly weirder dates, but there are certainly worse ways to unpack this non-issue. jihoon and chan stick to what they know best. jihoon's teasing of a 'response' song just means that there's going to be a certain track in the next mini-album that may or may not answer the questions/refute the claims/reassures the worries of your breakup ballad. he's classy that way. chan, on the other hand, has a lot less finesse. he's not so subtle in the way he literally makes up a routine— is it a slow song? he'll do contemporary, then!— and posts it for everyone to see. he needs everyone to know that he is unbothered. flourishing. in his lane.

[harunayuuka2060]

Vil: You lack finesse.

MC: Do you want me to strike a pose while I'm fighting?

Vil: ...

Vil: That's not what I meant.

MC: I'll make a peace sign next time. That should do.

Vil: *kicks them*

MC: *blocks it with their hand* *then makes a peace sign with the other*

Vil: ...

Jack: I heard Vil complaining about you.

MC: I don't know. I just followed his advice.

Jack: ...

Jack: Anyway, want to spar with me? I learned some good moves from Leona-senpai.

MC: Using your doggy charm doesn't count.

Jack: I told you I never used anything like that during our fight!

MC: I'm just teasing you. You're easily to get caught off guard, Jack.

Jack: Grr- *sighs in defeat* You're right. I still need to learn.

[astroa3h]

midheaven through the signs 💖

The Midheaven is your career compass, pointing you towards your professional path, shaping your social standing, and painting the picture of your public persona. It's like the universe's way of saying, "Hey, this is where you're meant to shine!" Now, let's break it down by zodiac sign, shall we?

Aries Midheaven: If you've got this fiery placement, you're a force to be reckoned with in the professional arena. You charge into things headfirst, fearless and ready to conquer. Your public persona? Bold, energetic, and unapologetically authentic. People can't help but be drawn to your magnetic charisma, and your social standing? Well, let's just say you're not one to fade into the background. You make sure you stand out anyway you can.

Taurus Midheaven: Slow and steady wins the race, right? That's your motto if your Midheaven falls in Taurus. You're all about building a solid foundation in your career, taking your time to create something enduring and of quality. Your public persona exudes reliability and dependability, like the rock everyone can lean on. And as for your social standing? You're the epitome of stability and success, you have the midas touch even if it doesn't always feel like it.

Gemini Midheaven: Ah, the social butterfly of the zodiac! With Gemini Midheaven, you're a master communicator and jack of all trades. Your professional path might involve fields like writing, teaching, or anything that allows you to flex your mental muscles. Your public persona is witty, charming, and endlessly curious, keeping everyone on their toes. And in terms of social standing? You're the one everyone wants at their party, the ultimate mingler and networker extraordinaire.

Cancer Midheaven: Cue the emotional depth and nurturing vibes! If your Midheaven falls in Cancer, your professional path likely revolves around caring for others in some way. You're the empathetic soul who thrives in fields like counseling, caregiving, or anything that lets you tap into your nurturing side. Your public persona is compassionate, intuitive, and deeply connected to your emotions. And in terms of social standing? You're the heart of the community, the one everyone turns to in times of need.

Leo Midheaven: Get ready for your close-up because with Leo Midheaven, you were born to shine in the spotlight! Your professional path is all about creativity, performance, and leadership. You're the natural-born leader, commanding attention wherever you go. Your public persona is bold, confident, and larger than life, like a true Hollywood star. And in terms of social standing? You're the king or queen of the jungle, the one everyone looks up to with awe and admiration.

Virgo Midheaven: Precision, perfection, and pragmatism—that's your game with Virgo Midheaven. Your professional path likely involves fields that require attention to detail, organization, and problem-solving. You're the analytical mind who excels in areas like accounting, healthcare, or research. Your public persona is humble, reliable, and quietly competent, earning you respect wherever you go. And in terms of social standing? You're the trusted expert, the one everyone relies on for practical advice and solutions.

Libra Midheaven: Balance and harmony are your bread and butter with Libra Midheaven. Your professional path is all about relationships, diplomacy, and aesthetics. You're the peacemaker who thrives in fields like law, counseling, or anything that requires finesse and negotiation skills. Your public persona is charming, diplomatic, and effortlessly stylish, drawing people in with your magnetic charm. And in terms of social standing? You're the social butterfly, the one everyone wants to befriend and collaborate with.

Scorpio Midheaven: Hold onto your hats because things are about to get intense with Scorpio Midheaven. Your professional path is all about transformation, depth, and uncovering hidden truths. You're the detective of the zodiac, excelling in fields like psychology, investigation, or anything that requires digging beneath the surface. Your public persona is mysterious, intense, and magnetic, drawing people in with your enigmatic allure. And in terms of social standing? You're the power player, the one everyone respects and fears in equal measure.

Sagittarius Midheaven: Adventure awaits with Sagittarius Midheaven! Your professional path is all about expansion, exploration, and pushing boundaries. You're the eternal optimist who thrives in fields like travel, education, or anything that allows you to spread your wings and explore new horizons. Your public persona is adventurous, enthusiastic, and endlessly curious, inspiring others to follow their dreams. And in terms of social standing? You're the free spirit, the one everyone admires for your fearlessness and joie de vivre.

Capricorn Midheaven: Time to climb that cosmic ladder with Capricorn Midheaven! Your professional path is all about ambition, discipline, and climbing to the top of the mountain. You're the ultimate goal-setter who excels in fields like business, finance, or anything that requires strategic thinking and long-term planning. Your public persona is authoritative, determined, and fiercely independent, commanding respect wherever you go. And in terms of social standing? You're the pillar of the community, the one everyone looks up to for guidance and leadership.

Aquarius Midheaven: Buckle up because you're about to shake things up with Aquarius Midheaven! Your professional path is all about innovation, progress, and challenging the status quo. You're the visionary thinker who excels in fields like technology, activism, or anything that pushes the boundaries of what's possible. Your public persona is unconventional, eccentric, and ahead of your time, inspiring others to think outside the box. And in terms of social standing? You're the trailblazer, the one everyone looks to for fresh ideas and bold solutions.

Pisces Midheaven: Dive into the depths of your imagination with Pisces Midheaven! Your professional path is all about creativity, intuition, and tapping into the collective unconscious. You're the dreamer who excels in fields like art, spirituality, or anything that allows you to express your deepest emotions. Your public persona is empathetic, mystical, and deeply connected to the spiritual realm, touching the hearts of everyone you meet. And in terms of social standing? You're the healer, the one everyone turns to for comfort and inspiration in times of need.

xox astro ash ✨ Get your own Natal Chart Reading @ astroash.net

[ravengards-rogue]

the evening stretch | warm-up series.

ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.

✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+

✧ wc : 2.7k

✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.

this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.

✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.

He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.

Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.

It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.

Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.

It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.

You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.

But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.

You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.

The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.

Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.

"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."

He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.

"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."

"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.

"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."

He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.

"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."

You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.

"Is that so?"

He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."

"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."

That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.

"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."

"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"

"Trelawny, I'd guess."

You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."

"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"

Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.

You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.

Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.

He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.

"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."

"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."

'"Read my mind, then."

"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"

His smile widens.

"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"

You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.

"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."

You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.

"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"

"I'm afraid I do,"

You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.

"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.

"Burn? You feeling warm?"

"Arthur!"

And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.

"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.

"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."

He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.

"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"

"Sweetheart—"

"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."

"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."

Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."

He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.

Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.

There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.

His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.

It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.

He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.

Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.

"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"

"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"

And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.

You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.

Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.

Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.

He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.

When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.

The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.

Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.

He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.

"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"

Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.

Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.

He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.

You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."

You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.

It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.

His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.

"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"

You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.

And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.

He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.

"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."

Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.

He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.

He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.

He's sure that will always be true.

When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.

And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.

Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.

Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.

You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.

"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."

Arthur beams at you unapologetic.

"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"

You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.

"Insatiable man."

"Only for you, my girl."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[folkling]

Folkling Save File WIP - Newcrest Park

So, this is what I thought about building earlier, another park lol. This is was by far the hardest thing I've used the TOOL mod for. For some reasons there are literal holes in the map and there's literally nothing to interact with. So, I had to finesse every asset damn near into place - the freaking hard way. I literally hate this game, but I love it so much.

Anyway, I'm still not done with it, I still need to blend the grass, add shrubs, fences, benches, lights, and figure out what to do with that road to nowhere.

[avocado-writing]

Hey there I hope you’re having a wonderful day, could I make a request for bg3? I’d like to request the crew with a noble barbarian tav, kind of like Godfrey from Elden ring. Normally they are very regal, eloquent, and in control, they might even think they are some knight until they finally let loose. Whether it’s their s/o in danger or a challenging battle, they just go to town, very ‘I have give thee courtesy enough!’.

oh anon, you're very kind to think that I'm a competent enough gamer to have played elden ring. writing these scenarios as if they're seeing you go into a rage for the first time!

Astarion

Very much an 'oh. oh! oh...' moment for him.

Doesn't want to confess that he's attracted to the way you go feral, but anyone looking at him during battle will see how he is affected.

He already thought you were charming with your eloquence and courtly mannerisms, but this drives him wild. The idea you had this potential thrumming through your veins this whole time is delicious.

He can smell the blood pumping through your veins as you rage and does something for him. If you're together, expect a visit from him that night.

Gale

Loves to engage you in long, thoughtful conversations over tea every night. Did not expect this side to you.

At first he thinks some untowards magic has been cast on you, but then he sees how in control you are even when you're letting loose.

Is flustered and flattered when you make sure he's safe in battle, using your rage to protect his body with yours.

Afterwards when you check he's okay he has to try and hide how much he's blushing as he stammers out an affirmative. Asks you lots of questions about the nature of your rage. Can't stop staring at you when you're in battle...

Wyll

Lets out a little "oh, my!" when you first rage in front of him.

A bit gobsmacked but jumps back into action, quickly helping you fend off whatever enemies have caused your ire.

Is over it remarkably quickly, and takes it in his stride - in camp the two of you discuss court and your respective times in it, laughing at tales of long gone social faux-pas...

And on the battlefield you are a machine cutting down everything in your wake as he uses finesse to dispatch your foes. He thinks you are night and day... but that you are wonderful.

Karlach

Sees you rage for the first time and she lets out a "FUCK YEAH!"

Drops into a rage by your side and the two of you absolutely decimate the battlefield. The gang of mercenaries who came for you never knew what hit them.

After you wipe your brow with an embroidered handkerchief from your pocket and offer her a spare, which she takes and uses (completely destroying it in the process with soot from her engine)

Geeks out with you every day about raging. The two of you discuss battle tecniques and play-wrestle, which more often than not brings down half the camp. She loves it. She thinks you're perfect.

Lae'zel

Never really gave you the time of day before now. She found your elegant manner irritating. Why use honeyed words when you can cut straight to the point?

But then, oh, she sees you rage, and she is enamoured.

That night demands that you tell her why you never said that you could fight like that. You have an argument saying you never felt the need to... it goes on until the two of you calm down and end up sitting well into the night discussing how you grew up as warriors.

She has a respect for you from then on, confident you can look after yourself on the battlefield. More often than not she watches you fight with an appreciative eye.

Shadowheart

Oh, she's thrilled. We know she likes barbarians anyway (see her thirsty dialogue about Karlach) so when you rage in front of her?

She just stares for a bit. It's all she's able to do.

When that staring leaves her vulnerable to attack and you come and defend her, oh, she's gone. She has such a crush on you. If she had one before, it's doubled.

You're always the first one she comes to check on after battle. She likes to lay her hands on your bicep as she's healing you, perhaps feeling the muscle a bit more than is necessary. Her cheeks are always bright pink.

[bizarrelittlemew]

going down (with the ship)

[ explicit, s1e4 canon-divergent, Ed/Stede, ao3 ]

"It's September 1st, boss." "What's that, mate?" "It's September the 1st." "Dickfuck, no it's not."

Turns out it is. Dickfucking damnit.

And now Ed is lying spread out on the sofa in the captain's cabin, drinking brandy straight from the bottle and waiting for the sea to take him. At least it's some damn smooth brandy. All things considered, not the worst thing to be the last thing to taste on this Earth.

Unless—

Well. Ever since seeing him naked when they switched clothes earlier, Ed had kinda started to hope that he'd get a taste of Stede Bonnet at some point. Hadn't planned on bringing it up this early, though. He hasn't even had time to plan how he'd go about that. And he likes a good plan.

But plans have already betrayed him tonight, and if they're going down with the ship anyway, what's the harm in asking?

Now he just needs a smooth opener.

"Have you ever tried fellatio?"

Or, like, dive right in.

Stede looks up. Looks somewhere between surprised, bemused, and curious, but not horrified. That's something.

"You mean sucking dick?"

"Whuh—" Ed nearly chokes on that, like he'd like to choke on—anyway, he clears his throat. Did not expect that from this fancy man. Promising, though. "I mean, yeah. Yep. Or like, getting your dick sucked."

"Can't say I have, no. Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?"

"Unfortunately."

They let that hang in the air for a bit, just looking at each other.

"Well... uhm. Do you wanna?" Real smooth, Teach.

Stede's lips curl into a slightly nervous but mostly excited smile.

"I guess there's no time like the present."

"Not much time at all, mate."

And the nervousness completely dissipates, replaced by sheer eagerness as Stede nearly trips over himself in his haste to get out of his arm chair, falls to the floor, walks on his knees to Ed's side, and starts unbuttoning the fall front on his breeches before Ed can catch up to what is happening.

"Wow, hey, I meant—you know what, never mind." Ed is not going to protest if Stede really wants to suck his dick, even if he imagined it the other way around, and damn, it seems that Stede really, really wants to suck his dick. He wonders if all fancy, rich lads are this hungry for cock. Maybe that's why they're like that.

Maybe not. Ed gets a feeling that Stede is different.

Different from anyone else who has ever touched Ed's dick before, too, and oh god, Stede is touching—licking his dick, sucking the head into his mouth and moaning, going at it as if Ed's cock contains the secret that might save them all if only Stede can suck it out.

Ed groans and buries his fingers into Stede's hair just as he starts bobbing his head, making up for any lack of finesse with pure enthusiasm, and okay, Ed is more than a bit bitter about this being his last night alive, because if this is Stede's baseline, Ed would've liked to be along for the ride while Stede developed his skill to its full potential.

Too bad that it will all be ending too soon—their lives, and the glorious experience of stuffing Stede's face full of his cock, because the way Stede closes his eyes and sucks around him is rapidly drawing Ed closer to the edge.

He only just manages to warn Stede before he comes, tries tugging at his hair to let him know he might want to pull off, but Stede just hums with encouragement and takes him deeper.

If this is to be his last orgasm, he might have found peace with his fate.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Ed slumps, staring up at the ceiling, then takes a swig of the bottle still in the hand he isn't using to pet Stede's head. He is just about ready for the sea to swallow him up like Stede just swallowed him down.

And yet.

Ed got a good look at Stede's equipment earlier, and he's still determined to get the close-up experience. Also, there is a sizeable bulge at the front of Stede's—Ed's—pants, and if Stede comes in his leathers, it will sort of suck to clean them up later. In case there is a 'later', if they somehow miraculously escape this.

"Alright, c'mere." Ed pats his chest.

"What?"

"Come up here, fuck my face."

"Are you—what?" Stede looks like one big question mark, but despite that, he is already climbing onto the sofa above Ed, knees on either side of his shoulders.

"C'mon, we don't have much time."

Stede opens the fall front, letting his cock spring free. Ed licks his lips.

"Maybe I can choke to death on cock before the Spanish get me."

"Let's try to avoid that, shall we?"

Ed is not sure he agrees, and shows it by grabbing Stede's hips and shoving him forward, taking in as much as he can of it in one go, which turns out to be half of it. Stede's yelp turns into a groan, and he quickly gets the picture, soon thrusting into Ed's mouth with rough abandon. He turns out to be even more of a natural at face-fucking than cock-sucking.

Yup, this is a much better last thing to taste (and fill his throat). Only surpassed by the last last thing, the taste of Stede as he coats his tongue with come. Ed doesn't even get emotional over the sweet things Stede babbles as he comes, all while stroking Ed's cheek with his thumb.

Okay, maybe he gets a little emotional. Mostly sad that he doesn't have time to do this, like, five hundred times more. At least.

As Stede sits heavily on Ed's chest, catching his breath, still mumbling something, Ed blinks and turns his head to the side. Catches sight of the thing Stede had been sitting with in the chair, the thing he dropped in his rush to get on his knees by Ed's side.

"What's that painting?"

[beefy-the-stronk]

Why are my drawings so orang

Anyways, pepper studies. I refreshed myself by studying from the actual sprites (and put in a few poses of my own). I also am polishing my manpepper design cus it needed some finesse

It's almostttt been a year later and I still love this cheeky smug pepper ough