#asks!!! prompts!!! replies!!!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

#27 with art if you feel so inclined! :) 🖤 please and thank you!

Sure thing!

Prompt: Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

Warnings: Established relationship, divorced Art Donaldson, smooches

"Did you eat already? I'm so fricking hungry," You grumble, leaving your suitcase by the door and striding toward the kitchen.

"Yeah, I ate."

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's fine."

"Are you sure?" You glance back at him from the kitchen. "Ken said you mentioned that it was stiff."

Art doesn't answer for a moment, eyes sweeping across your face. You watch him glance even lower before he shakes his head a little.

"It loosened up."

"If you're sure," You turn back to the sink, cranking on the faucet to wash your hands. "Don't push it if you don't have to."

"I won't."

"How did Lily's uh—Career day go?"

"It went fine. C'mere."

"Her teacher was so excited you could make it, I mean, so happy." You shut the sink off, plucking up the dishtowel to dry your hands before turning to the fridge. "Like, jazzed. I know no one uses that word anymore, but she was jazzed. Did you eat already?"

"I told you I did. C'mere."

"She's always been the coolest kid in the third grade in my opinion, but now it's official. Like—Peer official. Like, blue tick, you know?" You eye the contents of the fridge. "Are you hungry?"

"I just said I ate."

"No, right—Sorry. My mind's like," You shake your head. "I'm trying to slow down and catch up at the same time."

"Baby."

"I'm all jet-lagged and just jacked up. Fucking hate conferences."

"Baby."

"Yeah?"

"Look at me."

You turn your head from the fridge, raising your brows at the sight of Art's small, amused smile.

"...What?"

"Come here," He laughs, holding his hand out. You close the fridge, rounding the counter slowly and eyeing Art with suspicion.

"What's that look for?" You ask.

"I'm not giving you any kind of look."

"Yes you are."

"I am not."

"I know that face, mister."

He chuckles, taking hold of your hand once you're close enough, tugging you down. You lower yourself over him, straddling his thighs and settling in as his arms curl around your waist. He leans up, sucking a gentle kiss to your neck. You bite your lip, shifting slightly as his hands curl in the fabric of your shirt.

"...Are we picking Lily up from practice tomorrow?" You ask as your mind races.

"Tashi's got her," Art mumbles, the hum of it vibrating against your skin.

"Okay, good. I mean—Not good like—I've got some errands to run and I have to wash my clothes from the trip. I don't wanna mess up her schedule."

Art groans, tipping his head back and leaning away. You frown, pouting.

"What's wrong?"

Art lets his head loll to look up at you, a pout forming on his lips.

"You've been at a hundred since you walked through the door."

"I've got things on my mind."

"I can tell."

"Alright—" You groan, beginning to lean away, but Art's arms tighten around you, leaning up and pressing his chest against yours.

"I missed you," He murmurs. You wilt a little, raising your hands to cup his cheeks.

"I missed you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Because I'm feeling very neglected."

Art grins as you break into a laugh, leaning up and brushing a kiss along the underside of your jaw.

"You poor thing," You coo, turning your head. He catches your lips with his, sliding a hand up to your nape to guide your kisses as you sink down against him.

"...Art?" You mumble against his lips.

"Mm."

"I...Missed this...And you..."

"Mhm."

"But I am starving."

"Pizza'll be here in ten."

You grin, leaning back to look at him.

"You didn't."

"Course I did." His hand slides around your neck, knuckles brushing against your jaw.

"You're gonna spoil me rotten, Donaldson."

"Or die trying."

[pia55tri]

“I just moved to my new Monaco apartment, but the removal company refused to carry my mattress upstairs, you live in my building, can you help me?”

thank you, anon, for sending this prompt in and all the other prompts 🫶

It’s just the universe laughing at him, really, that he’s gone and knocked on the neighbour’s door and it opens to Carlos Sainz Jr.’s perfect fucking face. In Monaco.

Oscar doesn’t even know why he’s so surprised. It was Lando who recommended this building to him, a little away from the more busy centre of the little-big city of Monaco. He said he needed it to be subtle, he needed a little bit of air. And Lando, who thrives in the bustle and chaos of the metro, immediately went, Ah! I know the place for you, mate. Check it out? Oscar did and it was perfect. And of course, he should have known that the place was exactly to his standards and needs because Lando heard about it from Carlos, who Lando has always liked saying is very similar to Oscar in all the ways that matter but that Oscar refuses to acknowledge.

“Oscar,” Carlos says with a pleasant inflection that mollifies the brief spike in Oscar’s heart rate. “What a happy surprise. Are you living here, now?”

And Oscar just looks at him with wide eyes. Oscar is still in his crumpled airport clothes and smelling of the sun and desperate for a nap. Carlos is — His hair is a mess about his head. His cheeks are covered with scruff darker than Oscar is used to seeing. And he’s shirtless, flushed lines all over his skin like he was just in bed. And. He looks like he smells like… fresh sheets or pancakes. Luxury cologne.

“Erm. Yeah. Yes. I just moved in today, actually. Actually, I knocked because,” he cringes, “because I needed someone’s help and you were the neighbour…” And, really! He should be grateful his neighbour just so happened to be someone who actually spoke the one language he could speak  and not one of the many languages he didn’t. “The moving company left my mattress downstairs and I was thinking of getting maintenance to help bring it up, but they’re all busy right now. I just. I need help.”

(Somewhere in the city, Lando Norris is laughing at him.)

Carlos patiently listens throughout his long, winding plea, and then, finally, nods, and says, “Sure. Let me just put a shirt on.”

“Right,” Oscar says.

Carlos doesn’t even bother closing his door, so Oscar stands there and tries not to watch his muscles moving as he tugs on a shirt that pulls tight around his unfortunately well-shaped biceps.

“Stairs?” he asks.

They’re not anywhere near the ground floor. So, of course, Oscar can’t turn down a challenge like that, and he says, dumbly, “Sure.”

That is how Oscar finds himself not staring at Carlos’s broad shoulders as they make their winding way down too many flights of stairs.

Oscar doesn’t even know what they talk about as they go. All he can think about is how warm it is in the stairwell, and how it makes Carlos’s lilting accent bounce around and settle into the folds of his brains. It must be the jetlag. Or the Monégasque heat. Or the insanity his sisters have always sworn he had.

When they get to the lobby, his mattress is exactly where the moving company had left it, laid mortifyingly out in the open. Thankfully, it is the middle of the day and no other residents are walking about the place to bear witness to this entire thing. Together, they haul the mattress to where it miraculously fits inside the elevator and pick up a rather lovely conversation that Oscar isn’t used to having outside a long plane-ride or at one of someone or other’s parties. What he is used to is ignoring how Carlos’s biceps bulge every time he moves or how his plush lips fall open when he breathes.

When they manoeuvre the mattress around his, actually rather sparse, furniture and onto his bedframe, Oscar is so relieved and grateful that he doesn’t even blush about his underwear lying on the floor of his room.

“Thank you,” he says, kicking a pair of Calvin Kleins behind himself. He tries for a smile. “Really appreciate it, mate.”

“It’s nothing,” Carlos shrugs.

“No, it’s really not,” he insists, leading them to the kitchen. “Actually, do you want to stay for lunch? It’s really the least I could do.”

Carlos raises his brow. “So polite?”

Oscar is about to say something smart when he abruptly shuts his mouth and spins back around from the empty fridge to face Carlos. “I. Erm.”

Carlos looks amused, eyes crinkling at the corners. Oscar can feel the heat radiating off himself.

Carlos laughs easily. “I’ll pick a place and you pay, okay?”

And Oscar nods, calm and cool. “Sure.” He can do that. It’s absolutely normal.

“I’ll drive.”

Oscar keeps nodding. “Erm. Cool.” Very cool. A ride in Carlos’s Ferrari. Nice. Cool. Chill.

But then, Carlos winks and says, “It’s a date.”

And Oscar, helpless, charmed, does not swoon. Instead, he says, “Yeah.”

[lucabyte]

been doodling in class so i dont fall asleep in the middle of lectures. here's some of the isat ones so far. love using cheap felt tip pens

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #50

When Danny came to Gotham, he hadn't been planning on being a vigilante, he swears! And, technically, he wasn't a vigilante. He was a villain. Sort of. He was Catwoman's sidekick. Her partner in crime, quite literally.

But hey, it hadn't taken a lot of convincing from Catwoman to start stealing things from a bunch of rich dudes. Danny hates rich fruit loops.

[cal-writes]

Talking about chronic pain Zoro. What about ZoSopp getting bodyswitched, as a prompt? And when Usopp tells Chopper about all the pain, he's just !!!!?¡¡¡¡¿¿??!!!!

“Why can’t we just ask Traffy to switch us back.” Usopp’s whining voice coming from Zoro’s face is still off putting. If Nami squints she can see Usopp’s mannerisms on the face.

“He’s not the one who switched you, who knows what that’ll do.” Chopper notes with a worried expression creasing his brow.

Nami crosses her arms. “Not to mention I am not calling in one of out favors from him if this just resolves itself.” She says, waving her hand dismissively.

Usopp groans, slumping over the table. “This sucks so bad, everything hurts.” He glances over at Zoro, who is occupying his body. “How are you just chilling?”

It’s almost comical to see Zoro’s serious resting expression on Usopp’s face. He stands there with his arms crossed and raises and eyebrow.

“I’m fine.” Zoro says simply, shrugging.

Usopp scoffs. His skin is slightly shiny from sweat. “That’s so unfair. My head’s killing me. How do you deal with the lack of depth perception? My ankle’s hurt when I walk. Were you training all night or what?” He asks, full well knowing Zoro was sleeping like the dead - Franky on guard duty for the night - right until they were attacked.

“Do you have any pain Zoro? Or discomfort.” Chopper asks. “Or what Usopp would consider pain.” He adds and Usopp throws in a protesting ‘hey’.

Zoro rolls his neck and shoulders, shifts on his feet. “Feel better than usual actually.” He says shrugging and entirely oblivious to the way his words land like a gavel.

“Are you usually in pain?” Nami asks.

Zoro looks at her strangely. “What?”

She closes her eyes and folds her hands in front of her face. Instead she turns to Usopp. “The pain in your legs, is it around here.” She says, pointing a few inches above her ankle. Usopp scoots to the edge of the chair and puts pressure on Zoro’s legs. His face contorts marginally even from the little amount of force. He leans down to point towards a general area around lower leg.

“Like around here I guess.” He says and Chopper comes closer to examine it, opening the laches on Zoro’s boots.

“So around where you tried to chop your legs off at Little Garden.” Nami tells Zoro.

Chopper gasps. “He did what?”

He shrugs, one brow raised. “So? It healed fine.”

“How deep did you cut?” Chopper asks, alarmed, voice rising in volume and Usopp winces.

“Can we not yell, maybe? Thanks. Head? Still hurting.” Usopp tells them with growing irritation.

And Nami feels so ridiculously foolish. “Probably a strain headache.” She used to get them all the time, working by weak candlelight for hours to finish Arlong’s maps.

Chopper looks towards Zoro with the disappointment of a worried parent and Zoro does his best to avoid his gaze. “Dunno what the big deal is, you said it would wear off right? It’ll be back to normal soon.” He mutters, almost apologetic towards Usopp who looks at him with his mouth falling open.

“Man, that’s so not the issue right now.” Usopp tells him. “Do you always fee like this?” He asks.

Zoro pulls his shoulders up marginally and if Nami didn’t know his tells she could mistake the motion as annoyance.

Instead she reads it as almost embarrassed. “Not always. It’s not that bad anyway. Don’t know if the switch did something.” He mumbles, not looking at any of them.

“Shit, really?” Usopp asks with open shock.

Zoro just shrugs again and says nothing.

[astronicht]

52 for rosquez please <33

-daisy (@lastlatebraker)

hello!! i love this one lmao: 52. gripping thigh (from this prompt meme)

the swift answer is lol this was vale at home gripping his own thigh angrily while pecco gripped marc's thigh to get the marc marquez taxi service recently. Long answer, vaguely post-reunion:

Marc wakes up softly in the sliding dark, and with a seat-belt biting gently into his neck. For a moment he is too young to be real; a memory rather than a person, expecting Alex small and napping across the backseat of an ancient red Opel Kadett. Expecting, too, daylight, or at least -- as he ages swiftly in his own mind, his life curling back around him -- the bright halogens of an airport arrivals lane. Today, Marc sleeps in cars, but not restfully; he catnaps being ferried from one place to another, maybe. He doesn’t doze off because there is nothing else to do; that’s for planes, now.

Sleeping in this car feels transgressive, and he doesn't recall why until Valentino's hand shifts on Marc's thigh.

He ignores Valentino for now and rolls his head towards the window. The glass is cold; it's December in Italy. Marc wore shorts after he sloughed off his leathers to make Valentino roll his eyes and then watch, and watch, and watch. Sure it's December, but it's nine degrees; he won’t freeze.

There is no sky out the window. Just a wide black gulf and the hum of tyres on the road and the watery whisper of the radio. It’s not a digital radio, so Valentino has managed to set it to slightly between stations. The music is flickering between something Marc doesn’t recognize and a jingle for the neighboring station. He wasn’t even sure this was actually Valentino’s own car until he saw the mess in the backseat. Maybe it could still be someone’s from the ranch, on a long-term, informal loan. People like to give Valentino things.

The wide black gulf out the window isn’t just dark; that’s the sea, Marc realizes. They’ve driven to the coast from Tavullia, which is not so easy to do where Marc is from, but is possible here. He works his mouth. It doesn’t feel like he has to speak. Valentino’s hand shifts just a little on Marc’s thigh; he’s noticed Marc moving, and is holding himself tense. No, alert. Waiting for Marc to do something, or go back to sleep.

It’s very late. Valentino had said, an hour or two ago when it was already late, Let’s go for a drive. Marc had jokingly grabbed a throw pillow off one of the sofas at the ranch and said sure, but he was going to sleep in that car. Someone brave — one of Valentino’s young ranch guys, eating leftovers in the kitchen — had laughed.

Valentino, for his part, had looked delighted, or maybe relieved. He had shuffled Marc quickly into this car, and put his hand on Marc’s thigh, where the shorts were riding up and Marc was still damp from showering off his block of track time. He kept having to remove it to gear shift. Now, Marc saw, Valentino had solved this problem by calmly coasting through roundabouts in fifth.

Out the window, in the wide black, there were a few small lights, far out.

“What’s that, out there?” Marc asked. “An island, or…?” Valentino’s hand twitched again. His thumb stroked Marc once, so high on the thigh it was inexcusable, really. Marc shivered. Felt himself starting to sink into it.

“Ah, no, that’s a cruise ship,” Valentino said.

Marc nodded. “Oh,” he said. His breath fogged on the window.

“You can go back to sleep,” Valentino said.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Well, it took me a couple of days but I did it!! Oh, and it's the longest drabble in the world. Did y'all know a drabble is only 100 words???? I thought it was 100-500...I still wrote way more than that, but still.

Title: No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Prompt: Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Warnings: age gap (Ari is mid-40s, Reader is early-20s), yandere Ari, drugging, non-con fingering (f receiving), non-con p-in-v intercourse, non-con creampie, choking, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Hahahaha this was supposed to be a drabble. Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Moving out on your own isn’t exactly the easiest thing for you. You spent four years living in your college dormitory, but you always had at least one roommate. So, signing a lease and accepting the single set of keys was a huge accomplishment.

Your landlord, Mr. Levinson, is so great. He told you to call him Ari more than once. From the first tour of the apartment to the day of your move-in, he offers his help in many ways. Where the best farmer’s market is, how to reach him if you need any repairs, and even when the local bars close are just a few tidbits he leaves you with.

You get to know him a bit more during a block party one Saturday night. The two of you talk over cheap beer, tamales from Señora Cruz, smoked brisket from Mr. Lorenzo, and lasagna from Mrs. Di Paolo. Ari seems like he is lonely, and your kind heart can’t stand to see someone in need. 

Before you know what you are getting into, you agree to have a weekly tea date with him. It’s during one of those visits that you realize that something is a bit odd about Ari. He tries to cover up how he knows what cabinet you keep your tea in, but he makes up some dumb excuse that it would just be “the perfect spot”.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom as he busies himself with setting the tea, and when you come back, a steaming mug is waiting for you on a saucer on your coffee table. Usually, you make the tea, but Ari wanted to help out, and you had a long day at work, so you accepted.

“What is in this tea? It’s almost spicy,” you ask, taking another big gulp of the tea you don’t recognize.

“Is it spicy? Well, it does have ginger and cinnamon in it. Some chamomile, too. A little benzodiazepine in there,” Ari clambers on, trailing off at the end.

“D-did you say benzo…dia…zep,” you slur, reaching for Ari as you sit on the couch, but you end up passing out with your head in his lap.

When you come to, you struggle to remember what happened. Your heavy head pounds as you turn it to the side before putting the heel of your hand to your still-closed eyes.

“Take it slow, Bunny. You must’ve been really tired,” he consoles, from the other side of your bed.

“Mr. Levin-”

“Uhn uh. Call me Ari; no more of that Mr. Levinson polite shit, ok?” he swears for the first time in your presence.

“Um, Ari… What are you doing in my bedroom?” you ask, your mind a blank slate from earlier.

“Oh, Bunny. You invited me over for tea, and then you weren’t feeling well, and you asked me to stay until you felt better. Next thing I know, I’m carrying you in here because you fell asleep on me with that sweet little face of yours right in my lap,” he comforts, the knuckles of his hand sliding down your face before he boops your nose.

“Why do you keep calling me Bunny?” you mewl, still trying to get in control of all your limbs.

“When you sleep, you furrow your eyebrows and scrunch up your nose like a little bunny. It’s one of the cutest things you do,” he admires, his hand now moving down your neck and through the valley of your breasts to get to where your skirt rides up your thigh.

“Mr.-Ari…I think I feel better now; you don’t have to-” 

Your words are cut off when Ari reaches under your skirt, and you specifically remember having on panties earlier today, but his fingers are touching your tender pussy directly. Did he take off your underwear?

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must’ve been all that time I spent rubbing your cute little cunt through those white cotton panties. God, those little moans you were making went straight to my cock, Bunny. Feel it,” he dares, grabbing your hand and resting it against the thick outline of his dick through his Wranglers. 

While your hand is on his length, he shoves two of his fingers into your wet heat. At first, you are surprised by the shock of it. But soon, you can tell that he knows how to work your body. You scream out his name, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he shoves one hand over your mouth and gets close to your ear.

“You’re not gonna ruin this for me. You have been parading yourself around here like you’re some holier-than-thou sweet little thing. And I knew you’d end up letting me smash at some point. But I didn’t wanna wait anymore, Bunny. You have had me wrapped around that little finger of yours since you moved in. It’s time that I get what’s owed to me-what you’ve been flaunting in front of me,” he sneers, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean before opening his pants and pulling his dick out.

He lines up with your sodden core before thrusting in with no grace or elegance. Slamming himself inside your tight snatch for the first time feels like he is splitting you in two. You’re no virgin, but you also don’t have much casual sex, so Ari’s thickness was a shock, to say the least.

“Sweet Bunny, you’re so tight. What a good girl! You’ve been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you, huh? Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. You hear that, Bunny? Hear how that cunt loves it when I fuck it? Love that loud, sloshy pussy,” he beams, his wide hips between your legs making your joints hurt.

You’re in stunned silence as Ari uses your body to chase his release. Your mind is bringing up all the times it seemed like he was getting a little too close for comfort. All the times when he would talk to you about his divorce, or his current dating trend, or the fact that he once told you that a pretty thing like you belonged locked up in a tower for a prince to come and free you.

Did he think he was a charming prince?

“Oh, Bunny, fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Look at me; wanna see your eyes when I cum inside you,” he blurts, holding your face in his hands as you look into his dilated, hungry eyes. “Take it. Just. Like. That.” The last few words are punctuated with thrusts as he paints your walls with thick, milky ropes.

Once he closes his eyes, his hips remain still, and his forehead meets yours. This would be almost romantic if Ari didn’t make it beyond creepy by whispering how perfect you are and peppering kisses all over your face. His softening cock finally slips free from you, and you are happy to be empty until you feel the flow of his semen leaking from you. He notices your discomfort and mocks your whines as he pushes his jizz back into your swollen hole.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he starts, moving off of you to recline next to you, “Not gonna leave this bed ‘til you’re knocked up. As soon as you are, I’m gonna move you in with me. You are gonna be well taken care of, too. You are so perfect-every little thing about you. And when the baby comes, we are gonna be the perfect little family. You wouldn’t wanna ruin our family, right? You’re gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” he implores, holding your cheeks in his hand so your lips poke out a bit.

You nod while tears stream from your eyes, finding it hard to form words. But what would you have said? He seems to like you mostly silent; you haven’t uttered a single word since before he was inside you. It wasn’t too late to try, but it was too late to have hope; at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get hard again just looking at you. On all fours for me, Bunny. I know you got it in you,” he orders, no kindness in his voice.

You quickly scramble to get on your hands and knees for him and are happy that he is pleased with your speed. As he slides into your sensitive folds again, you grimace but hold in your noises of pain. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you hurt, even though what he is doing is traumatizing. He relishes in the gushy sounds your pairing makes and the mighty “oomph” you make when he wraps an arm around your neck and flattens you down to your belly.

He has you in a chokehold while his hips canter back and forth, plunging his length deeper and deeper inside you. When he hears you start to sputter and gulp in air, he removes his arm from around your neck and holds your face cheek-down on the bed.

“Look at her, taking my cock just like she should. You’ll be the prettiest little wife and mother, won’t you? Gonna keep you nice and round as much as I can. My perfect little Bunny…ugh, fuck,” he blurts, his release surprising him suddenly.

When he pulls out, he smacks your ass and lays down next to you while your life flashes before your eyes. He moves closer to you, readjusting your body to lay on top of his as he rubs your back. He kisses the top of your head in such a kind gesture that you feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

You can’t even bring yourself to fully cry, the tears streaming down your face just to splash on Ari’s denim shirt. Forgotten and dried up to never be seen again.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble!!!!

**Tag List**

I also didn't know who to tag since this is the first time I wrote Ari.

[jesuistrestriste]

thinking about your art mommy and breeding kink fics and just imagining him feeling comfortable calling you mommy but not indulging in his other kink . Until one day you’re about to sink down on him in cowgirl and you say ‘there’s a new rule okay? You can’t pull out…under any circumstances.’ And he’s so confused and flustered because you always tell him to pull out or use protection but this time you want him to cum inside you over and over and he’s just moaning ‘mommy mommy gonna cum’ constantly - he’ll do anything for you and he’s so desperate and excited he’s finally getting to breed you

just thoughts yknow

all your fics are amazing by the way 🫶🏻

awwwww:(( yea he’s so precious

like if you sit down on his cock and let it rest inside you for a minute while you coo in his ear; little words of encouragement.. he’s gone. his hands desperately clinging to yours while tears spring to his eyes and he whimpers, feeling himself twitch inside your walls. “mommy…” he whines, wiggling his hips under yours and begging you—without the proper words—to start riding him properly

and when you do, he’s making the prettiest sounds. you get to watch his eyes roll back into his head and his bottom lip quiver as he relishes in the feeling of you squeezing around his throbbing dick. it’s leaking globs of precome inside you with every bounce of your ass over his pelvis, and he’s nearly crying..

“gonna come, mommy, gonna come ‘nside you, mommy, muh-mommy, mommynghh—“

the tension in his stomach coils tight and he starts to move his body to meet yours, forcing his eyes open to look to your face; searching for any sign of approval.

you smile down at him and moan, and he gasps in sharp bursts, “ohhh, mommy! i’m, please, i’m— i’m gonna—! gonna! come, come come come—“

he’s totally incoherent by the time he’s bucking and slamming himself tight up against you, whimpering as he squirts his load warmly into the depths of your core. he bumps your cervix and coats your insides, squeezing your palms against his as he shudders. “mmmnn.. gonna get you pregnant, mommy… please keep it all inside.. you’ll keep my come, won’t you?” he begs, pouting like a guilty puppy :(

[hypewinter]

When Clockwork told Danny to round up all the speeders, he thought it would be a quick errand. But then he stuck around. He couldn't help it ok? He had never been a witness to one of CW's tongue lashings. Only the receiver. That's why he wanted to listen to Clockwork chew these speeders out for their misuse of the speed force.

It's also why he was still around when Clockwork said "In order to help you manage your speed more, King Phantom will be teaching you."

Wait.....WHAT!?

[eemamminy-art]

no trans wuk lamat art?? her va is trans...

Ever since I saw this tweet from the voice actress about being cast as Wuk Lamat, I haven't even considered headcanoning the character as trans out of respect for the VA!

I do really like Wuk Lamat and I might draw her again at some point, I just really struggle to draw anthro characters so it's not my top priority at the moment 😩

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Saw the kissing list prompt and after reading 28 I immediately thought of Harvey x reader idk maybe it’s just me lol

Prompt: One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.

Warnings: Established relationship, smooches

"Sorry about that."

"It's alright."

"It won't happen again, I promise."

"It will, but that's okay," You teased. Harvey smiled grudgingly, giving a small nod as he sat back down in his chair, eyeing the retreating waiter's back.

"Everything okay?" You added.

"Fine. Mike ran into a complication, but it should be alright now. What'd you wind up getting?"

"Apple pie."

"Classic."

"What kind of complication?"

A grimace flitted across Harvey's lips as he folded his hands on the table. You rolled your eyes.

"I don't need all the gory details. Just a little hint?"

"Two words: Exculpatory evidence."

"Oh," Your eyes widened. "Yikes."

"Big yikes."

"If you need to go—"

"Mike has it handled."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Harvey reached across the table, taking hold of your hand. "Wild horses couldn't drag me away right now."

"Well, touching Rolling Stones reference aside, if something happens and that changes, I get it."

"You think I'm going to let anything interrupt our anniversary dinner?"

You tipped your brows up slightly, and Harvey tacked on, "...Again?"

You chuckled, leaning back as the waiter returned with your slice of pie.

"Thanks," You smiled, taking up one of the forks and tucking in as Harvey did the same. He got two bites in before his eyes slipped shut, a groan humming past his lips.

"Is that the pie, or is your phone buzzing?"

"Both," He grumbled, fishing into his pocket with a frown. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay." You dug your fork into the slice, doing your best to focus on it instead of the hushed, irritated conversation happening on the other side of the table. You heard a heavy sigh, and you knew what was coming next.

"Go on," You urged.

"Baby—"

"I know," You nodded, forcing a small smile as you met his eye again. "It's okay."

Harvey sighed, lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll be home late."

"Okay."

"I'll make it up to you."

You smiled a little, leaning up for a gentle kiss as he stood. You eyed the table as his footsteps retreated, tugging the piece of pie closer to yourself and poking at it with your fork. You could at least hold your annoyance until he was definitely out of the restaurant, right? Besides, you still had pie. You took a larger scoop of pie with a dollop of whipped cream on top and shoveling it in with a soft sigh. So much for a calm evening.

You heard approaching footsteps again, but assumed that it was the waiter, so you sat up just a little.

"I paid the check," Harvey's voice made you look up in surprise, "So don't worry about that."

"Oh. I could've—"

"I know you could've, but I wasn't going to let you."

Harvey's eyes wandered your face for a moment, and you frowned as his lips tipped up with a small, amused smile.

"What is it?" You asked.

"You've got a little..." Harvey trailed off, bracing on hand on the back of your chair as he raised the other to trace your lower lip gently. Your eyelashes fluttered as the tip of his thumb dipped into your mouth, and your tongue gently lapped at the smear of whipped cream. His eyes lowered to the swell of your lips, fingers curling around your jaw as he tipped your chin up for another kiss. You parted your lips, letting your eyes slide shut as his mouth worked tenderly against yours. You raised your hand to curl in his hair, smiling against his lips as he groaned softly again, then broke your kiss.

"Was that the taste of the whipped cream, or is your phone buzzing again?" You teased.

"You, baby," He murmured. "That was all you."

[distant--shadow]

I got you

[pixiestickie]

more of bleeding Azul getting beaten up (preferably by his crush Jamil) please. Thank you ‼️‼️

omg no who wrote this ask i would never draw such a thing !!! anyway this is more of an aftermath than a beating itsef but i still hope its good enough ^_^

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @thedarkstrategist from this ask meme: "Trustfall" by P!nk Sentence Starters Shadowzel - "Are we just too scared to fight for what we want tonight?" (One of those where I didn't use a direct quote but let it inspire instead.)

-----

This is how it shall be. I will wake her, and we will fight.

I will win - of course. It cannot be otherwise. A githyanki warrior of Creche K’liiir does not bend before an istik of Toril, a follower of Shar, a stalker in the shadows.

(Forty-one nights I have woken with her face in my mind, her name in my mouth.)

We will use no weapons. She fights with magic and a mace; she will be at disadvantage. I will leave her bloody in the dirt, in the dark. Seeing her bested, I shall be released from my obsession. 

(What shall I dream of in her place?)

It is what the varshi teach. Cosa’kh rahaj, abat’hak tarim. Desire fades, blood tells. It is a fleeting thing, this infatuation. I must be able to stand tall when it has bled out of me. I must remain myself. I will not sacrifice my honor on her dark altar.

(And yet I have no other goddess left.)

Why do I hesitate? It cannot be fear. I have never once shied from battle. From the day I could walk, I faced steel and blood unblinking. Those too weak to stand at my side fell by my hand. I carry no fear of striking down what I love.

(No - but I fear to claim it with both hands.)

And when she is bloodied and beaten, I will turn away. I will know the inconstancy of my passion and set it aside; I will shed the weight of her and be free. There will be no more ache of longing, no more half-formed fantasies of soft touches. My mind will be clear, my heart liberated.

(My soul empty.)

I will not falter. My strength has gotten me this far. Let it last a little longer, until I can see my way out of this transient madness. I will not weaken before the gleam of her eyes in the firelight. 

I will not weaken. 

I will not…

I will wake her, and we will fight. And then I will know her worth, and it will be finished.

This is how it shall be.

[cal-writes]

What if the "maybe you could fix him, but I personally, don't intend to. i want to see him baring his teeth while covered in blood" but as a writing prompt? Perhaps featuring Law and Zoro?

i hope you dont mind me putting this in law's eleven universe, takes place after the zoro penguin flashback in chapter 1

-

If Law weren't so pissed off, it would look comical.

Jean Bart is easily the tallest of them all. Towering above even Bepo by almost two heads worth of height. He has to hunch in most hallways of the submarine to avoid hitting his head. Law got a special stretcher after Jean Bart joined the crew, so his feet wouldn't dangle off the end. Not only is Jean Bart tall, he is also build like a brick shit house, shoulders wider that two of Law.

And yet, Zoro has him slung over his shoulders in a firemen's carry, marching on determined towards them.

They almost didn't recognize him, due to his hair being covered by his bandana and the rest of him being drenched in blood. In the glow of the fullmoon straight above him he looks like a creature of shadow.

He doesn't even need to give the order, once the rest of the crew recognize Zoro and Jean Bart they run to intercept them. Shachi and Penguin are easily the fastest, jumping over the railing before Hakugan can finish lowering the gang way.

Law stands on deck, arms still crossed tightly over his chest, fingers gripping his biceps hard enough to bruise.

He can't breathe until Penguin turns around to shout at them. "Alive!"

-

All things considered, Jean Bart is doing fine.

Him and Zoro had gotten seperated on the job and they had lost contact to both shortly after. No sign of life from either of them. The guys they were working against used to be slavers and as it turned out, familiar with Jean Bart. (One of them had claimed Jean Bart was their property and Law had vicerally imagined gutting them from a distance, unable to do anything without compromising the job).

Law feels Corazon's heartbeat underneath his feet as he walks through the Polar Tang, now deep underwater.

Jean Bart is awake already, only a minor concussion and little memory of what happened exactly and Law and the crew are more than happy to not get into detail about the whole thing.

He hears the splatter of the faucet before he makes it to the communal wash room. Zoro stands with his back to him, hunched over the sink. His shoulders move, muscles straining under his shirt as he scrubs his hands. He's had a shower, his hair is still dripping but the blood under his fingernails must be more persistent.

Law catches his eye in the mirror briefly as he crosses the threshold into the room.

Zoro looks away first, his shoulders tensing marginally.

"Jean Bart was unconscious when I got there. He didn't see a thing." Zoro tells him, stopping his scrubbing and Law blinks one too many times, caught off guard. Why that is the first thing Zoro tells him, he's not sure. (It's on the tip of his tongue.)

"He'll be fine." Law says and Zoro closes his eyes briefly, a faint sigh of relief. Then he continues to scrub. The nail brush's bristles are nearly flat from the vigor of it.

Law watches him in silence until he's finally satisfied with the results and stops, turning off the faucet. Zoro's hands grip the edge of the sink.

"You dealt with them?" Law asks.

Zoro rolls his shoulders back and looks over his shoulder. There is something guarded on his face but his gaze drifts off and Law gets it. All of the sudden.

Zoro gives a sharp nod.

"Good." Law adds and Zoro's eyes snap to him with an uncomfortable intensity. (Remembers Zoro's submissive stance as Pengiun retched and 'Won't happen again' muttered in apology).

Zoro's eyes twitch, unsure of his place here still and that's on Law he knows. (He can't think of Zoro as crew yet but he's also thinking of Zoro as crew already and has been for a while so it's as inevitable as fighting against the tide but Law is nothing if not stubborn).

"Saved me the trouble." The surgeon of death says, cruelly pleased.

Zoro takes a moment to give him the demon grin he's slowly coming to know. He inclines his head and the tension leaves his shoulders.

[aceofwhump]

new favourite whump response!

*character A is injured in a traumatic event. the injury isn’t that bad bad but the mental toll is huge*

B: how are you feeling?

A: better. my arm’s stopped bleeding. (for example)

B: that’s not what I meant.

A: I know. *no further elaboration*

Oooooh yes!!! I LOVE THAT!!! Ugh so good!