#asdja;

[righteousdelusions]

i literally can’t imagine Rohan flirting. He might try to flirt with women because it makes sense to him, there are more resources. People making him flirty with Jotaro it doesn’t make sense to me. Rohan dresses slutty and talks to him, if Jotaro doesn’t pick the hint it’s his fucking lost (or so Rohan thinks). Meanwhile Jotaro is thinking about elsewhere he can go to ignor- i mean keep the distance to save his daughter

[princemick]

clara's doing a fun ass 'waht do u think I look like ask game but then I remembered I show my outfits like daily yall basically know what I look like

[buggaberry]

you ever just see someone manage to nearly verbatim share an au of theirs that you had but never spoke about for years 👁️👄👁️

it’s not a bad thing, people can share ideas and it doesn’t mean you aren’t original, but i think it’s funny and i’m screaming lmaOO it’s just so baffling to see 

[rebelli0us-mask]

Dia jump scare!

[catcze]

hi hello im still recharging bc today has been ✧exhausting✧ but someone pleek tell me my carrd looks pretty because I spent a good long while on it yesterday and i need validation, ty ♡ HAHAHAHA

[chaosmultiverse]

“For the record, I was a little more than just ‘a guy who hunted witches, wth Pil- Belos’” Caleb somewhat huffed, while it made sense that’s what he was known as, it wasn’t any less annoying.

[cherjgdhlt]

My favorite Chayanne banner i've made in 2023 (still use on my chrome ASDJAS), the @ is from X. Chay was and still is my favorite egg :P

[imaginethezeldaverse]

To the anon that had asked me last month about writing Yunobo and being put in a mating press............................

 I’m sorry this took me so long - truthfully I needed to build up the courage to write this holy fuck cause it was overwhelming to think about. I also lost the ask as I was writing this because Chrome decided not to cooperate which is why I don’t have the original ask on this post. Uhhhh...yeah! Allow me to lay my thirst below the cut oh my asdja. Let’s see what happens when you take a much more confident Tears of the Kingdom Yunobo, and pair that with a sprinkle of breeding and a full-on mating press 🥴 Hint: Something incredibly nasty. Reader is written female/afab because this lowkey self-indulgent bye 💗

It was a passing conversation. Something he swore he didn't mean to eavesdrop on, but in all fairness you weren't that far away from his particular earshot. You'd been chatting with Ramella who had just gotten back into town from her home in the Gerudo desert. He recalled hearing your squeal and at first thought something was wrong, but as he rounded the corner he realized it was a sound of embarrassed delight. "I'm telling you - you must ask your rock voe to hold you in a mating press while you passionately embrace. Ashai swears it's a delightful position," Ramella muses loudly at the way you're already blushing. "A-And it won't hurt when he pushes my knees toward my chest like that?" you stuttered, starting to swelter at the idea. The Gerudo merchant giggled at your question, nearly shouting she replied, "Not if you're flexible, it shouldn't!" "I-I suppose I could...ask..." you shyly mumbled back as you pressed your hands to your cheeks, face reddening by the second. Yunobo tucked his fingers to his chin in thought. Something you needed from him? Judging by your facial expressions and words, you sounded like you'd wanted whatever this hold was. But what exactly was it? Ramella mentioned it being a position, and he did overhear her say 'passionate embrace'...was it like a hug? "No that's not it, goro..." Yunobo said to himself, head tilting the opposite way as he thought further. Hugs don't normally involve your knees being at your chest last he checked; he also doesn't know you to be overly blushy about hugs in general. So what was so different about this 'mating pr--" And then it clicked. Now he understood why your cheeks were lighting up like a night lantern - and he couldn't stop himself from doing the same the more he thought about it himself. --- "Ahhh, Yunooo" you whined, back arching so your chest was further pinned to his. His colossal hand splayed across your back as he slowly filled you, his torso spreading your thighs as far apart as they could go. You relished in the feel of him, impossibly hard and thick inside of you - so much so your fingernails were already biting at his forearms. "Easy, goro...nice and ngh...slow, love..." he breathed into your ear. You had to applaud his restraint; Yunobo was always delicate with you at the beginning of your love-making, taking into consideration how much preparation and wherewithal it took for you to truly take him all in. Lashes fluttering from the deep stretch you moaned through a bitten lip at how the slight sting was dying out to pleasure now. Your hands slid up his arms, reaching to wrap around his neck. The Goron champion lifted his head just enough to seal his lips over yours, his hips drawing back and then thrusting forward. Your mewl into his mouth had him gripping you a little tighter, though his pace was kept exactly how you needed it for the moment: slow, hard, and as deep as your pussy would allow him. Each thrust would acclimate you, bend you to the shape of him and open you further. "Feel...good?..." Yunobo panted, blue eyes darkening to a rich navy as his eyelids fell halfway. Your lip was snatched between your teeth, your head leaning to the side, exposing your neck. "Yes! Ungh, goddess yessss!" And he believed you. With your breasts shaking under him, your lips parted in a semi-permanent 'O' and the feel of your hands holding onto him for dear life, he believed he was delivering your body the summation of his love and lust just fine. But something nudged at the back of Yunobo's mind, a pebble of a thought. He removed his hand from your back, gliding his palms down your hips and slotting under your knees. His body stilled for a moment, the sudden cease of his actions sending chills down your spine and causing you to flutter around his length. Your Goron beau hissed in a pleasured wince, before sitting upright on his knees and pushing yours to your chest. Your breath fell short as you were gently folded, still stuffed half-full with Goron cock. "Mmm..." Yunobo purred, a tinge of grit and machismo in tone. He leaned back over, caging your legs in place with his biceps, "Like...this, right, goro?" Eyes blown wide at how he could possibly known what you’d been silently working up the courage to ask, you gasped as he sunk back into you again. This position had him working into you deeper now, hitting a spot inside you that had your voice keening in another octave. Stars gathered behind your eyelids, your senses clouded with only the pleasure that stroked your walls and the sound of Yunobo's low grunting in the crook of your neck. He thanked Hylia for placing him in the right place at the right time - Ramella was right, this position was incredible to have you in. Something surged in his chest - fire and power lit his blood aflame as he felt the need to move faster inside you. Hoarse pants and sweetened moans dove into deeper growls and teeth-gritting grunts as he fed your body thrust after thrust after thrust. The hard edges of his hips smacked against your thighs, and you clawed desperately at his arms for purchase. Your breathy moans sang heavenly in your Goron’s ears as he hit a sensitive spot inside you.  “Oh! Ahhhhhhn, Yunobo, I--!” you cried out, your body aching to have him even closer than he was already. His thrusts grew sloppier as Yunobo let his instincts take him - barreling past the line of gentler sex with you and straight into full fucking you. His mind drove him to one objective: fill you up. With the way your hands dug into him, the bend in your spine with your head thrown back, and even the flex of your calves that most undoubtedly meant your toes were curling in absolute pleasure - you were close and he knew it. Yunobo’s powerful fingers ground harshly into the smooth surface beneath you both, cracking the build of his sculpted bed.  In your ear he panted low, “You gonna cum soon, love? I can hnnnk, feel it, y’know,” he licked a wet strip along the side of your neck, the slight hint of salt on his tongue, “So good to me...oooooh so good for me...gonna f-fill you up haaaahhh, sweetheart...you’ll take it, wontcha?”  His babbled, passionate words were sending your nerves into a frenzy, your cunt clenching around him as the ebb and flow of your release crept up your limbs.  “YES!” you sobbed, whole body wracked with desire, “Yunobo, please, I’m so close, mmmmf I’m, I-I’m...!”  Your words cut short at the sharp, empty scream of your voice, a blast of heat and ecstasy ripping through your entire body. Yunobo groaned heavily at feel of your pussy clamping tight on him, milking his cock with your rippling silken heat until even he could hold on no longer.  “That’s it, love, thaaaat’s it. All of it, goro, hahhh ffff--” His orgasm shot through him at lightning speed - a series of moans tumbling from his throat akin to a rough crescendo as he came buried deep inside you. The brawn in his thrusts softened to simple rolls in his hips as his growling lightened to airy huffs. His spent cock had emptied as much of him as would fit in your poor pussy, and when he pulled out of you - the wet squelch of it dribbling from your hole was unmistakable. Carefully, Yunobo set your legs down, making sure not to move too quickly so you could acclimate. When he was sure you were okay, you were easily flipped to sit in his lap, his arms tucking behind your back and holding you close. A gentle nuzzle of his nose on your cheek stirred you from the high of your post-coital bliss, followed by the cover of lips to your still heated skin, “I didn’t hurt you...did I?” came Yunobo’s meek whisper, tickling your ear. You sleepily shook your head in a negative and proceeded to rest on his chest.  He hummed quietly, “I’m glad...I don’t know what came over me, goro...I just...ya felt so good and then suddenly I was hit with this strange urge...” His chin rested on your head gently, “Felt like fire was in my blood - and the only thing ready t’quench it was all those n-noises you were makin’” You could hear the nerves in his voice tangled up in his words, the sense of him feeling like he did something wrong clouding his thoughts. A soft press of your lips to his pectoral, “It was incredible, Yunobo...every bit of it,” you nuzzled into his chest some more, “I wouldn’t mind doing it again like that at all.”  That seemed to lay the Goron a little more lax, albeit with wildly flushed cheeks. His hand rubbed soothing circles into your back, the other, affectionately coming to the back of your head.  You would definitely have to remember to thank Ramella later - though you were sure she was being loud during your conversation on purpose now. As you shifted you felt liquid traveling down your thighs.  “Yuno...maybe we should hit the hot spring, I um...i-it’s starting to,” stuttered you, face growing more crimson by the second. Immediately Yunobo caught what you meant, “O-Oh! Yes, let's! S-S-Sorry, hold on.” You were lifted bridal style in his arms, shifted only slightly in his hold so he could give you your dress and slip his fundoshi back on.  “I can walk, hunny,” you giggled, sweet smile accompanied by a reassuring look. Yunobo chuckled back at you, pulling your frame a tad closer to his chest, “I know, but I figured I’d give ya a break after nearly foldin’ ya in half.” Your jaw dropped at his words, and it wasn’t until he realized what he’d said - and so casually at that - that his face turned as red as Goron spice. 

“F-FORGET I SAID THAT!”  The saccharine smile on your lips turned devious in a matter of seconds; accompanied by the fresh memory of his biceps hooked under your knees as he pounded away at you had it grow more devious still, “Oh Yunobo...never.” 

[lorata]

saw this on one of tumblr's... unconventional ads, and immediately thought that Misha would give this to Brutus.

asdja;sdklfja;sdlkfja;lsdkfj;aldksjf;ladjskf

she would give this to him after he offered one too many unsolicited opinions when people order their meat well-done at the cookout

[sotaiewe]

a new character :3 (con ayuda de tiktok asdjas)

[a-mag-a-day]

Monologue my absolute beloved!!! The statement giver makes me irrationally angry even though I sort of relate to him asdja. Also the last line is yet another just- "All the world's a stage, and I can't escape my monologue." just- AAA- i love that episode sososososso much. Anyway me and the statement giver we're both pretentious about acting, love that for us. To be fair he has got the right of it, like... just... that feeling even when you're not doing a monologue, of the feeling of acting on a stage it's just... it's just Such A Good Feeling. Spooky.

I only did stage crew so I can’t attest to the feeling of being on stage, but I’ll take your word for it.

[righteousdelusions]

is this fucking for real? skjdhajks

[peppermintstarsonamintyway]

STOP EATING MY ART IM RUNNING OUT OF COOKIES PLEAAAAAAHHEHEHHAHAHAHASEEEEE /j

ASDJA*IWGHEAIHSD?IAHEA I'M SSSOOOORRRRRYYYYYY /j /lh

[yanban-san]

for your mental image viewing pleasure bc thinking about this made me gigglesnort/cackle; emmet being like "FUCK." after elesa points out an angle he hadnt considered (or just something glaringly obvious he didnt notice bc he's got his rose colored glasses on and the prescription/lens' on them are Real Damn Thick like his skull (affectionate) and his di-) and throwing his darling conspiracy board marker down so hard he sends it to eeby deeby/breaks fhte fucking sound barrier or some shit

adfhjalkjdf I need to think of an extremely convoluted and intricate plan for something but yes he absolutely would

[cyancherub]

His fingers are painful when they dig into you, but you don't care, not when he is fucking into you with a slow roll. Not when his hips are controlled and he leans over you, propped on one elbow while the other hand traces your face down to gently circle your jaw. His thumb draws infinity signs into your raging pulse as he hitches his hips to brush over that spot, each movement calculated and lazy.

The hand that is holding him up moves to pull the cigarette from between his lips, Kogami leans down and tilts your face up, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is sloppy, it tastes bitter and harsh as he feeds the smoke into your lungs. But you crave it, because its him, because his tongue is sliding along yours all wet and hot.

"Shinya," you breathe, and your words show how much you ache for more, just like your pussy does when you clench around him.

"Yeah," he murmurs, lips brushing against yours skin as he trails kisses down the curve of your chin. "Give it to me."

His thumb strums your clit so you have no possibility of denying him. You wouldn't dream of trying anyway.

OH MY GOD SJHDHJS

[theaspers]

between heart and soul | lucifer x reader

a/n; warm up bc i haven’t written in a while. sort of an au? that isn’t really explored much in this fic but they’re still demons and the reader is still a mortal. part of a collection of fics that i had planned. anw mostly lucifer/reader with hints of lucifer/reader/diavolo.

also known as the conversation that takes place mostly on lucifer’s lap

“i like you though,” you tell him, a furrow between your brows and a frown twisting your lips. you’re curled up sideways on his lap, face tucked into the crook of his neck. quiet chatter fills the room, the occasional flickers and flashes of colour from the television drowning you in hues of yellows and reds. he feels the warmth of your breath against his collarbone as you continue to speak, “is that not a good enough reason?”

truthfully, he’d stopped giving the show attention about an hour ago. your insistence on watching it through and the fact that you were comfortable in his lap were the only reasons as to why he hadn’t left to do more productive things. lucifer breathes another sigh, “i did not think you to be so unreasonable.”

no, not completely so, lucifer thinks. headstrong, perhaps, a trait that had first pulled him to you but now only serve to perpetuate this matter as a point of contention.

unreasonable? he sees you mouth, incredulous, contemplative.

you shift minutely in his lap to look up at him, and he moves his fingers from your waist down to rest them lightly on your hips in support. the furrow between your brows deepen, as does your frown, “are you saying i shouldn’t like you? or dia?”

yes, he wants to say, but that would be a lie. whatever this was that was unfolding between you and him and the prince has grown disproportionately at such an alarming rate. he has to admit, however, he is growing incredibly fond of the idea by the second. he is not terribly resistant to it, only the lack of control he had over it which grated at him immensely.

still, this was a different matter altogether, he reminds himself. trust is fickle but his feelings would not be as volatile. two demons is two too many. perhaps he’s been too lenient with you. his fingers dig into your hips, but not enough to hurt, a little squeeze, a gentle reminder, “no. but perhaps, exercising caution would serve you well.”

“but i can’t not trust you. or dia. i like you. i like dia,” stated as a matter of fact. there’s a slight pause before, quietly and softly, you add, “you treat me well. make me feel safe.”

safe. a wicked shudder slithers down his spine. to think you would feel safe in the accompaniment of the demon prince and his right hand. but of course, he thinks. of course you’re safe. the safest you could possibly be. pride rumbles in his chest, driving him to press a kiss against your temple. at the back of his mind, the fact continues to prickle him uncomfortably.

you pull away slightly, straightening up in his lap, and the contentment that he had felt when you’d been pressed against him replaces itself with something like petulance. your fingers move up to curl around his cheek, as if to console him. your thumb is gentle as it traces the peak of his cheekbone. he knows you long enough to recognize that it is kind understanding that he sees on your face, and not the condescension that he would’ve taken it for if he didn’t know you better.

another day, he muses. he’ll save this conversation for another day. he pulls you into him, captures your lips with his, and makes sure you remember nothing about the awfully tragic mess of a show that you’d been watching.

“tell me,” you insist not long after, as you pull a stack of documents closer. another long day of work that’s stretched into the night, something lucifer’s certain shouldn’t be made a habit but has gone on for far too long to easily break out of. the tea that barbatos had served alongside an assorted platter of light snacks has long since gone tepid.

the night finds the two of you in a similar enough position - you on his lap, him allowing you. a haphazard mess of papers lie before the two of you and he’s far since lost track of which was his, and which was yours. not that there had been much progress since you’d slid onto his lap, he supposed. diavolo sits not too far away. in a bit of a mood after today’s reports of unrest, lucifer suspects, since he’s voluntarily poring over documents of his own on a desk across the room, focus unwavering. still, the occasional glances that the prince sneaks and the fond smile that swells warmly on his face do not go unnoticed by lucifer.

“hm?”

you lean back against him, attention rapt on the report before you, “tell me why you think i shouldn’t trust you.”

the shuffling of paper, the quiet scribbling that’s been filling the silence stops momentarily. when lucifer looks up, diavolo meets his eyes. a subtle exchange of quiet understanding. the prince chooses to remain silent. a fair enough decision. after all, it had been lucifer who insisted on the matter.

unknowing, or more likely, uncaring of what had transpired, you flip through the report that lucifer knows should have been completed by now. the comforting background noise resumes as diavolo returns his focus back onto his work. lucifer sighs, giving your side a little squeeze before he taps a gloved finger on the stack in front of you, “focus.”

he doesn’t miss the small snort that you make, the nonchalance in your next words, “you should help me with it then.”

the smile on your face grows at diavolo’s low chuckle. this wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve done this, and lucifer is certain that it would not be the last. the language of demons made your head hurt, you’d complained once. too confusing, you’d reasoned, but mischief gleams in the twinkle of your eyes, which is why you should help. the fact that you’re not past taking advantage of someone like lucifer doting on you amuses him more than it does anything else. he can’t say no to you, regardless.

“what do i need to do to crack you?” you ask, scribbling notes across the top of the page.

good progress. no major mistakes. he hums as he looks on, “oh, whatever could you mean, beloved.”

“you know. the whole you can’t trust us thing.” a line through several sentences, unreadable scrawls filling the space beside it. a frustrated sigh, quiet.

“wrong form,” he notes, picking up a stray pen and adding a few scribbles above your own. you thank him quietly, a final look through of the page before moving on to the next one.

“is my word not enough?” he asks, when he realises that you’re still waiting on an answer. much like him, you were not a stranger to the struggle and the pain of associating with his kind. the torture of betrayal, the blood spilled. a sharp burst of anger burns in him but it dissipates as soon as it comes.

“settle down,” you say as you turn to look at him, something like a sharp warning. a frown curls on your face, and he wishes for nothing more than the chance to smooth it away. you lean up to press a small kiss on his cheek instead, “that’s not what i meant. of course, they are.”

you turn back to the report, shifting slightly on his lap,  “i’m just trying to understand, lucifer.”

he collects his thoughts in the slight gap of silence that comes afterwards, mindlessly tracking the movement of your fingers across the page. voice a low murmur, he points out, “change this part.”

“ah, right,” you hum, quickly jotting down a reminder for yourself. satisfied with the current state of the document, you move on to the next. “so i’m not supposed to trust demons.”

“correct.” he moves a hand to curl around your side. hardly ever a moment when he can keep his hands to himself nowadays.

your eyes flicker over to diavolo, who has a smile on his face but says nothing more, and then back to your report, “because demons always have ulterior motives.”

“yes.” lucifer’s glad that you’re aware of that much, at least.

an exhale through your lips, “i can’t trust demons. but surely i can trust my lovers?”

lucifer frowns, and ponders. he is a demon first and foremost, is he not? perhaps you needed another reminder. he was nothing so malevolent. nothing so righteous. but is he not a god in his own right? and though the line between lover and god may thin with each passing moment, his teeth remain sharp and his claws remain bloody. a weapon is still a weapon, no matter how much good it tries to do.

“lucifer,” you call out. a tenseness behind your voice, something like strength and power. you’ve long since placed your pen down, abandoned the stack of documents. you’ve turned to face him now, expression tight. reminds him of how absolutely delightful you’d been during the day’s training. oh, if only this had been a different moment, he laments.

you press on, eyes steely. commanding in the way that makes him want to bend to your will, “listen to me and listen well.”

“i trust your judgement. your truths. and i trust that you’ll take care of me.” your hand rests gently over his, before you bring it up to press a kiss over the top of his knuckle, “i have a lot of faith and trust in you. in both of you.”

in the mess of his own thoughts, he’d missed diavolo moving closer, now an arm’s length away. perched over the edge of lucifer’s desk, laughter rumbles his chest, warm and hearty. an i told you so if lucifer’s ever seen one. the prince leans closer and runs his fingers through your hair. presses a kiss on the side of your head. a reward that you gladfully bask in.

how odd, lucifer thinks, that this is where he’s found himself. that after centuries of violence and blood and grief, this is where he’s settled. a little world of his own, warm and content. with two that he can call his own.

he presses his eyes shut, leans into your warmth and concedes. there is no point in fighting it anymore. not when he sees the fiery determination that burns in your eyes, as if daring him to contest your truths further so you can prove him wrong. not with the backing of the prince who insists on pressing closer and closer. more than your occasional naïveté and unrelenting kindness, perhaps he should be more worried about how much of himself he’s given, of how much he’s surrendered to you and to his prince.