#be warned these are tricky

[prettyinpunk]

let's play connections!

~muse edition~

here's how to play!

find 4 words that share a muse related connection, there are 4 total categories with increasing difficulty

here's an example:

ready to play? here's the board! good luck!

!!ANSWERS BELOW THE CUT!!

reblog with how you did but try not to spoil anything!!

[emergingghost]

julien baker blinkies!

[pinky-in-blankets]

《 Take a sip from a secert potion, it'll make you fall in love~♡ 》

----

Tadc Digtal Hearts!au belongs to @itsnixderlol

[stuffed-x-arts]

recently got into the magnus archives and with the loop plush dropping yesterday i found the energy and thoughts to do some silly stuff. bonus sketches below the cut.

[discjude]

I think I should focus more on the link between Rafal and Japeth in TCY because I was typing out a joke post that went something along the lines of "TCY is so funny because the whole division between the two Pens comes down to "omnipotent omniscient harbinger of fate" vs "some snake guy" under the assumption that the scim that was Lionsmane was just one of Japeth's, but I realised I didn't have a source for that so checked flesh and blood again and what do you know Lionsmane is apparently "made out of my father (Rafal's) spirit.". I was aware of the reference to 'Rafal's spirit' mostly because it's a concept never mentioned by name again in the series but somehow never noticed that Lionsmane WAS just. Rafal. which has horrible consequences for the Japeth Lore

Basically. It seems very important to me that the "Storian VS Lionsmane" duo can be boiled down to "Fate VS Japeth", given that a lot of Japeth's motivation comes from his desire to be able to control fate, stating in Flesh And Blood "soon I'll be fate's master, with the power to take love back (where he's talking about Aric)." . Saying that he IS Lionsmane ties into that nicely, given that he'll write his own fate with the pen that Is Him. This also fits into the "Past is Present" prophecy, given the last line of "Until you change it", being exactly what Japeth aims to do.

However, Japeth does not 'change it', because he's not the one writing his fate, because He's Not Lionsmane. RAFAL is. The fate that Japeth thinks he's creating for himself isn't the one he wants, but is Rafal's fate instead... which is exactly what ends up happening to him, given the second fratricide incident. This also works with Past is Present, because Past IS Present, given it's the same fate. Which also works as a lovely little reminder that Japeth has absolutely no control over his fate in the slightest, reflected by a few other pieces of book 6 information: Rafal's message to him (that happens before book 4) instructs him to remain loyal to his brother, and to always put his brother first. He doesn't win a single one of Arthur's Trials. It is literally stated by Rafal in a flashback that it was LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE for japeth to end up being One True King. what I am Trying To Say is that there was absolutely no way in hell Japeth could ever have "changed it", ever. Anyway because of all of this I firmly believe that Soman should've put at least a couple of vague references to the TCY twins in the prequels given that Japeth and Rafal might have the most interesting link between them in my opinion

[pixelatedraindrops]

RainCode Sickfic (Sequel 3) preview!

(RainCode Endgame Spoilers!)

Behind the mask…lies the pain you’ve kept hidden all this time…

So as I’ve briefly mentioned multiple times, over winter break I will be writing a new fic, aka the third and final part to my RainCode sickfic trilogy. I call the it the “Sickfics of the Heart” series~ :)

The final fic I write will take place in the post game. Where former Number One, Yuma decides to visit Kanai Ward to check on his homunculus Makoto before the year ends as a break. But he finds out he’s not in good shape health-wise and decides to try to look after him.

I will be making multiple references to my first fic “Home is Where the Heart is” so be sure to read that fic first!

This fic will also contain more angst. (that I will make super fluffy in return :3)

Here is the summary of what I have planned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Title: A Heartwarming Reunion

With his memories back, Former Number One, now Independent Detective Yuma Kokohead has recently solved yet another case. One more step towards his goal of eradicating all the world’s mysteries. He finds himself a little tired and realized that it was getting close to the end of the year. He thinks maybe it’s a good opportunity to take a small vacation to recuperate.

New Years is usually a time best spent with family. Sadly, Yuma didn’t have any blood relatives. His secondary family was the Nocturnal Detective Agency, but with the master detectives off doing their own thing, and the chief deceased (or rather wandering aimlessly as an undead homunculus zombie) he couldn’t be selfish and take up their time.

But as he thought back to his time spent in Kanai Ward's city of endless rain as an amnesiac, one person crossed his mind. The person who shared his face, his mind and his build. The homunculus clone he had to battle to solve the city’s mystery. (Though he could not remember what exactly happened) The CEO and now Leader of the clouded city of rain full of homunculi like him. Makoto Kagutsuchi.

Yuma thought to himself that even if they were previously enemies, Makoto was probably the closest thing to a blood relative he had left. So he decides to return to Kanai Ward to pay him a visit, to see how the city is fairing and hoping he had some time off to talk and catch up. And as the city’s leader, he was usually alone. He wouldn’t mind a little surprise visit from his original …would he?

Little did Yuma know, that Makoto may have needed his help more than he originally expected. He overhears rumors in the city that speak concerns of Makoto pushing himself too hard. It turns out their city’s leader was ill, and he had only gotten worse due to his days of continuous overworking and trying to brush it off, by hiding it using his mask.

Yuma is about to experience being a caretaker for the first time in his life, and to his own double. He has a bit of trouble at first, but he has a little bit of help from his heartwarming memories of his previous found family, the Nocturnal Detective Agency. He also finds out more about Makoto in the process. Realizing that he’s been in a lot of pain…that he’s kept masked all this time, all alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Also yes this edit is terrible... x'D Makoto's sprite art makes it difficult to edit into his body... I tried okay? x-x;

Anyway, I hope you will look forward to it! I will try to get it done by either Christmas or...the end of the year :3c

Also this will likely be a multi-chapter fic.

[mav-the-artist]

I couldn't get this image out of my head so I had to make an animation of it lol

GIF version under cut! Feel free to use it wherever!

[bookwormsbutterfly]

[soupsandstars]

Its Bitsy Spider - some Leader Boards

[kutana]

a good portion of the mor.tal ko.mbat roster is asian therefore also poc!! please be wary.

[cherubdulce]

HI BAMBI...ME PLS? ✋ i love morally ambiguous older women, bonus points if she appears well put together but is actually cringefail. as for men i love sweet, goofy sillyguys, or grumpy older men, bonus points if he's a nice older brother/dad figure to other characters and has a soft spot for them.

RIYA AND CONNOR ‼️

my memory is SUPER GROGGY I haven’t watched season 2 in a while so bare with me 😭

When I think of ambiguously older woman who are cringefails/girlfailures it’s Riya. She’s in the cast of season 2, her archetype is the bollywood actress !! Her reason why she wanted to be in the show is give her some exposure to get her more acting roles. She’s shown to be nice and excluded (+self conscious as well) in the very beginning but ends up being a twist villain at the end of the series to control the game. She also has a relationship with connor which I’m going to move on the next

for Connor, his archetype is the adolescent! In season 2, Connor is a man who is turning 50 and has a hard time accepting that he no longer fits with younger people which is one of the reasons why he joined the show is so he can feel young again😭 He’s a rich and wealthy man and owns a perfume company (which I may add that he gave one of his perfumes to Riya as a birthday gift !!). He does have a dad/elder figure vibe when he was giving advice/support several of the contestants !!!

oh yeah they’re also the ‘campfire couple’ in the all stars opening if you consider polyshipping with them :))

[utopideal]

seeing people in metaphor discussions defending my man king hythlodaeus v my beloved........... <3

i don't mean this in the sense of like. everything he did was justified and he made no fuckups ever. but like... it makes me happy when people can actually find it in themselves to sympathize with him, and realize just how hard it can be to keep fighting for change when everything seems constantly doomed to fail and when you have SEVERE DEPRESSION lmao.... i think it's a common and relatable struggle in the real world too, and having empathy for how people end up in that position is the only way you're actually gonna help them change their minds??

besides, in the end, he didn't entirely give up without doing anything. maybe he should've done more to act while he was alive - maybe he would've been undermined, maybe he had no real power with an army loyal to forden and/or louis over him, maybe he should've tried anyway - but he did invoke the royal magic through his death in a last ditch effort to do something. and in the end, that plan worked! (through the efforts of many others too, of course)

mind you this is not me getting at people who disagree. the king did hold responsibility for his people, putting aside how much he could've done - which is another subject of debate anyway and open to interpretation, but. it's totally personal how much you choose to empathize with him. but personally to ME when i see people appreciate his character it gives me the warm fuzzies. comfort character fr fr

[cumironi]

‘ SSSHH, BEWARE OF THE FOOTSTEPS！

feat. gojo, geto, toji, sukuna, nanami, shiu

𖧷 sum. “ssshh, keep quiet,” they moan in your ear, breath burning your skin despite the cool air of the night. sēx outside can be very tricky, but. . . getting caught or not, it’s up to you: whether you can’t keep your moán to yourself or. . . not.

warning. outdoors/public space, exhibitionism, dōuble-penetration ( sukuna ), petnames, overstim, praises, name-calling, choke(s), under influence ( gojo, all consent ), dirty talk, spank(s).

＃ GOJO SATORU

your giggles grow louder rhythm along the way you bounce on gojo’s thick cock, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. the alcohol has loosened your inhibitions, allowing you to be more carefree and playful in your lovemaking. “baby...” you whimper, grinding down on him harder as you ride his lap. your wet cunt clings tightly to his shaft, the heat, and tightness driving him wild.

“you’re such a naughty girl, always begging for more of my cock,” gojo teases, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you. his blue eyes sparkle with mischief and arousal, drowsy from alcohol. “i think ’m going to have to punish you for being such a bad girl. you couldn’t even wait until we got home, huh?”

gojo grins at you, crocked, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you hard and fast, his massive cock stretching your cunt to its limits. “yeah, looks like i’ve got a little slut on my hands,” he says, his voice low and husky with desire. “a filthy girl who can’t control herself around me.”

he lifts your skirt higher, exposing more of your ass as he slaps it hard, the sound echoing through the quiet yard. “this is what happens when you’re a bad girl, sweetheart. you get punished.” gojo thrusts up into you again, his length hitting deep inside your womb. “and right now, i’m the judge, jury, and executioner.”

you laugh before a sharp cry escapes your lips the second gojo’s palm— big and cold— connects with your ass, the stinging sensation mingling with the intense pleasure from his relentless pounding. your cunt clenches around his thick cock, drawing him in deeper with each thrust.

“you are so silly,” you cringed between your giggles, bracing yourself against his chest as you continue to ride him wildly. the combination of the cool evening air, the warmth of his body beneath you, and the intoxicating liquor coursing through your veins has you lost in a haze of lust and euphoria.

“sshh, we should be quiet,” you whisper, again, giggling, your voice breathless and desperate between the laugh. nails dig into his shoulders as you grind down onto him, seeking that perfect angle to make you come undone. gojo chuckles darkly at your whispered plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. “shh, yeah, keep quiet, baby,” he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your ear. “we don’t want anyone hearing how loud and dirty this little slut is getting fucked out here.”

his words send a tingling, flames of stars from your shoulder straight to your cunt, and you bite your lip to stifle another giggle. gojo’s cock is so deep inside you, stroking that sensitive spot within your core with every powerful thrust. you can feel his balls slapping against your cunt, adding to the overwhelming sensations crashing through your body.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” gojo groans, his face contorting in pleasure. “i can feel your cunt squeezing me like a vice. you love my big dick, don’t you?” your legs tremble as gojo’s thick cock stretches and fills you completely, the pleasure bordering on pain as he hits that sweet spot deep within your core over and over. you throw your head back, your long hair cascading down your back as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations.

“your mom and dad might see us,” you declare between the giggle instead of answering, warm breath fanning your boyfriend’s face the minute you lean closer. the mix of the rough grass beneath you, the cool night air, and gojo’s searing heat enveloping— a dangerous mix of cocktails of lust and pleasure that sends you spiraling out of your mind.

gojo smirks up at you, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with lust and mischief. “let ’em watch,” he says, his voice low and husky. “they already know i’m a perverted bastard. nothing new there. they know better than to disturb me when i’m fucking their daughter-in-law.” he grips your hips harder, pulling you down onto his cock as he drives upward, burying himself to the hilt inside your dripping pussy. “fuuuck, you feel amazing,” gojo groans, his forehead pressing against yours as he starts to lose himself in the pleasure. “i could cum inside you right now, fill this naughty girl up with my seed.”

his words send a jolt of excitement through you, and you begin to move faster, riding him with reckless abandon. the thought of gojo marking you, claiming you as his, pushes you closer to the edge. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the yard, punctuated by your high-pitched moans, giggle and gasps.

he leans in, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue plundering yours as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. gojo breaks the kiss, panting heavily, his blue eyes blazing with intensity. “you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you, baby? i can feel your pussy twitching around my cock.”

# GETO SUGURU

gasps sharply as geto’s thick cock plunges deep inside you, your body jolting against the cold metal railing. you bite your lip hard, trying to stifle a moan at the intense sensation of being taken so roughly out here in the open air. “sh-shh...” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “fuck— sugu’ be quiet,” just a second, you glare at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

fingers curling around the rusty, dirty balcony fence tighter, your knuckles turning white as he pounds into you relentlessly. the force of each thrust makes my breasts bounce and rub against the rough fabric of his shirt that you wear. you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft stretching you wide, hitting all the right spots inside you.

“oh god— baby,” breathe out, your words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing and the creaking of the wooden floor beneath you. “hah! look who’s talking tough now,” geto chuckles lowly, his breath hot against your ear as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. his hands grip your hips tight, fingers digging into your flesh as he uses them to pull you back onto his cock with each brutal thrust. he is not even bothering to keep his voice down as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. his mission is only one : make the stupid neighbors stop flirting with you.

“you’re the one making all those cute little noises,” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “i bet they can hear you moaning all the way down the hall. ’m surprised they haven’t called the cops yet,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he growls, “and i’m going to keep doing this until you can’t take anymore.”

geto reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly through the fabric of the shirt. he pinches your nipple between his fingers, meannn, twisting it just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your cunt. the action earn a choked whimper escapes your throat at the cruel twist of your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. geto’s pace quickens, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. the balcony’s fence creaks ominously under the force of your coupling, but he shows no signs of slowing down. “come on doll, scream for me,” he commands, his voice low and husky with desire. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless out here.”

your pussy clenches tightly around geto’s thick cock, milking him as he continues to ravage you with wild abandon. “ah-ahh! s-suguuuu’!” you cry out, unable to contain yourself any longer. the rough treatment of your sensitive nub, combined with the relentless pounding of his shaft, pushes you precariously close to the edge.

geto’s mocking words only fuel the fire within you, igniting a dark, primal desire that demands release. as he grips your hip harder, pulling you back onto him with bruising force, you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensations. “hhn! oh f-fuck, s-shouldd- quiet,” you wail, your voice rising to a desperate keen, whispering like a mantra to yourself.

geto grins wickedly, pleased by your desperate attempts to stifle your cries. however, he clearly has no intention of letting up anytime soon. “that’s right, let it out,” he encourages, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. “moan for me, doll. show everyone how much you love getting fucked raw by your boyfriend out in the open.”

he punctuates his words with another vicious thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you. the obscene squelch of skin meeting skin echoes loudly across the balcony, mingling with your ragged breaths and the creaking of the railing beneath you. geto leans in close, his lips hovering mere inches from your ear as he whispers, “come on, i know you can be louder than that,” his breath burning, spit all the pleasure with his dirty talk. “show me how much you love getting fucked in public. let everyone know who’s making you cum so hard.”

you can tell geto was loving seeing you struggle to hold back your moans. he continued to push deeper and faster into your wet heat, stretching your walls around his thickness with every powerful stroke. his grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he used your body for his own pleasure— and his punching-jealosy bag. you could feel the veins in his cock pulsing against your inner walls, throbbing with need.

a strangled sob tears from your throat as geto’s words wash over you, each syllable a sharp blade cutting through your last vestiges of restraint. the shameless, public nature of your tryst, coupled with the unrelenting assault on your senses, finally shatters the fragile barrier holding back your climax.

“fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” you shriek, your voice a raw, guttural cry that seems to reverberate off the very walls of the building. your body convulses violently, back arching as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you. your pussy clamps down around geto’s pistoning cock like a vice, rhythmically milking him as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. the sheer intensity of your release leaves you gasping and twitching, utterly spent.

# TOJI FUSHIGURO

breathless moans escape your lips as toji pounds into you relentlessly, the bamboo walls creaking with each powerful thrust. the sound of waves crashing outside mingles with your ragged panting, creating an erotic symphony.

“mm— baby. .” you gasp, your hands bracing against the rough bamboo as he grips your hips, pulling you back onto his thick cock each time while you, uncontrollably desperate to keep your mouth shut from spreading the moan and sin to everyone around— there are children around for fuck sake. the cool ocean breeze wafts through the open ceiling of the structure, sending shivers down your spine even as your body burns with desire. your clit throbs in time with toji’s sleepless strokes.

“shhh... i gotchu, ma,” toji whispers huskily in your ear, feeling your body tremble beneath him. he tightens his grip on your hips, fucking you harder, faster, driven by lust and the thrill of getting caught. the thought of someone discovering them sends a dark thrill through him. leaning over your shoulder, he nips at your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks making a sharp cry tears from your throat as toji bites down on your neck, his teeth sinking deep enough to draw blood. his free hand snakes around to rub your clit in firm circles, pushing you closer to the land of climax and pleasure just for a second. “gonna fill this tight pussy up, ma,” he growls, his voice low and rough with arousal.

the pain only heightens your pleasure, making your inner walls clench greedily around his pistoning cock. the bamboo structure creaks ominously under your frenzied coupling, but toji doesn’t care. all that matters is claiming you right here, right now, consequences be damned. you whimper, your head thrown back against his chest as he assaults your sensitive flesh with his fingers and mouth. the knowledge that you are so close to being discovered only fuels the fire raging within you.

your hips buck wildly, meeting each of toji’s powerful thrusts as he drives into you with primal intensity. the wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the small, tiny, wee space, mingling with your ragged breathing and toji’s guttural grunts. toji’s arms snake around your slippery skin for the nth time, to press firmly against your belly, encouraging you to arch into him, to meet his thrusts head-on— bend your stomach deeper into the bulge of his thick cock that peeks at your abandonment.

“fuck yeah— come on ma, i know you can do it,” toji snarls, pounding into you with reckless abandon. he can feel your body starting to tighten around him, and it spurs him on. he wants to push you over the edge, make you scream his name for all to hear. fingers dancing lower, he roughly pinches your clit, rubbing it between his fingers in harsh, rapid circles. at the same time, he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “gonna cum so deep inside you, mark you as mine. everyone will know who you belong to.”

# RYOMEN SUKUNA

whimpers softly, overwhelmed by the intense sensation of being filled so completely by sukuna’s enormous cocks. tears continue to stream down your cheeks— struggle to even do as much as catch your breath, each thrust sending waves of pleasure-pain crashing through you.

# NANAMI KENTO

panting heavily, i manage a weak, “my lord. .” your voice is barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin and sukuna’s lewd grunts of satisfaction. his twice or three times bigger mouth on his stomach lick the small of your back— it smirks, your cunt can feel it.

sukuna chuckles darkly at your feeble attempt to address him properly, his four arms gripping you tighter as he pounds into you relentlessly. the tongue on his stomach licks up your spine, leaving a trail of saliva that tingles on your sensitive skin. his upper pair of hands reach around to grasp your breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he fucks you harder. the third hand slides down to rub your clit, making sure to hit that sweet spot with every stroke.

“foolish mortal,” he sneers, his voice low and menacing. “you should be grateful i deign to use you for my pleasure. your pitiful cries only spur me on.” one of his hands slides around to fondle your breast roughly, pinching and twisting your nipple between his fingers. his other hand reaches down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, forcing your body to respond despite your mind’s protests.

cries out sharply as sukuna tweaks your nipple, the sudden jolt of pain mixing with the overwhelming pleasure from his cocks and touch. “ah! m-my lord, please...” your hips buck involuntarily, meeting his thrusts as his skilled hands work to push you closer to the edge. “this is— too much, i-i can’t...”

trembling, you clench around the thick cocks stretching your inner walls, desperate for some respite but knowing it won’t come anytime soon. “just- just give me a moment, i need...” your eyes hooded, half-heartedly open and find the open garden surrounded you, few of his servants passed by— yet, despite them didn’t have enough the courage to look directly, the voice of skin roughly kiss, your desperate-slutty moan, and sukuna’s rough grumble was obvious.

sobbing quietly, you try to gather your fragmented thoughts, dreading what further degradation or humiliation sukuna might inflict upon you once he’s finished using your body for his twisted amusement. sukuna laughs cruelly at your pleas, his tone dripping with sadistic glee. “a moment? how quaint. you think you have control over this?”

instead, he speeds up his pace, the wet sounds of his cocks pistoning in and out of you growing louder. the tongue on his stomach slithers up to your ear, licking the shell before whispering, “i think you need to learn your place, silly mortal. and if begging for mercy is what it takes...”

his fourth arm moves to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. “perhaps a little choking will help you focus on the present. now, beg properly. beg me to let you cum, to grant you this fleeting pleasure.”

the hand on your clit intensifies its ministrations, rubbing circles that send sparks of ecstasy shooting through your nerves. with that, he redoubles his efforts, slamming his cocks deep inside you with brutal force. the sounds of flesh meeting flesh echo through the garden, mingling with your choked sobs and the occasional gasp from passing servants who can’t help but steal glances at the depraved scene.

the servant who dared to glance your way quickly looks away, not wanting to meet sukuna’s wrathful gaze. they all know better than to disturb their master when he’s indulging in such carnal pleasures. sukuna tightens his grip around your throat slightly, his smirk growing wider as he watches the effect it has on you. he leans in close, his hot breath washing over your ear as he whispers, “look at them, pet. can you see how they’re staring? envious of the privilege i’m granting you, of the pleasure you get to experience at my hands.”

his fingers dig into your neck, applying just enough pressure to make your vision blur at the edges. “they wish they could be in your position right now, don’t they? wishing they could feel my cocks inside them, wishing they could hear their own desperate moans echoing through the garden.”

your vision starts to blur from lack of oxygen as sukuna tightens his grip around your throat. panic sets in as you claw at his wrist, desperate for air. he chuckles darkly, amused by your struggles. just as you're about to pass out, sukuna releases his hold, allowing you to gulp in a ragged breath. he watches with perverse fascination as you tremble and wheeze, your body still wracked by the aftershocks of his relentless pounding.

sukuna’s hand on your clit becomes a blur of motion, rubbing and pinching in a relentless rhythm designed to drive you to the brink of insanity.

he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close as he rocks into you slowly. his voice is low and husky, filled with desire even as he tries to keep things discreet. with his other hand, he gently cup your cheek, tilting your face up towards him, thumb brushing across your lips as he tries to silence your pleasured moans. “shh, my love... i know it feels amazing, but we need to be quiet so no one knows what we’re doing here.”

his brown eyes filled with adoration and lust, blend like a mix of cocktails under the dim blue and purple bar lights. “i want to hear you, but not like this. let me take care of you when we get home, okay? right now, just relax for me...” he punctuates his words with a deep, slow thrust, making you gasp despite yourself. his deep voice is a soothing whisper against your ear as he rocks his hips. one after another while keeping his hard length buried within your cunt. “just focus on how good i make you feel, okay? let me take care of everything.”

your body shudders at the intensity of his words, his touch igniting sparks that race through your veins. you nod frantically, unable to form coherent responses over the crescendo of pleasure building inside you. instead, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling into his warmth as you cling to him desperately.

your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, more pressure against your sensitive clit. you can’t help the whimpers that escape, muffled against his skin, as he continues to stroke that perfect spot deep within you. each deliberate thrust sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to consume you whole and drowning you all the way.

desperate to stifle the sounds of your desperation, you press your mouth to his throat, sucking gently on the pulse point there. the subtle pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure. the sound of music and everyone push painfully far away to the back of your head, and everything becomes grey with how much the sounds of nanami’s breathing kissing your ear. all warm, soft and just him. “baby..”

he inhales sharply as you suck on his throat, the sudden rush of sensation sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. his grip on you tightens reflexively, fingers digging into your hip bones as he struggles to maintain control. the urge to claim you harder, faster, more forcefully is almost overwhelming, but he resists, determined to please you rather than succumb to base instinct.

with a herculean effort, he steadies his movements, focusing on long, slow strokes designed to stretch and fill you without jarring you against the seat or drawing unwanted attention. he lets out a low groan, the sound vibrating against your ear as he fights to hold back his own climax. “my love... the love of my life,” he breathes, the endearment barely audible over the thumping bass.

overwhelmed by the intense sensations coursing through every fiber of your being, you can only whimper and tremble in nanami’s arms. the steady rhythm of his thrusts, the heat of his body enveloping yours, the sweet ache of his fingers digging into your flesh— it all blends together into an exquisite symphony of pleasure.

it was painfully slow, but when he was sensing your impending release, nanami’s hands begin to roam your body, tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your breasts, before coming to rest on your thighs. he spreads them wider, angling his hips to hit that magical spot inside you with precision. the added pressure sends you spiraling toward the edge, your inner walls clenching and fluttering around his thick length.

nanami’s eyes darken with lust as he watches you lose yourself in pleasure, your body tensing and trembling in his grasp. he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing the desperate little noises you make. his tongue dances with yours, matching the rhythm of the loud music, alsooo, mirroring the rhythm of his hips as he continues to stroke into you, hitting that sweet spot again and again.

# SHIU KONG

he breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, nibbling and sucking marks into your tender skin. “so beautiful,” he murmurs against your flesh, his voice heavy with desire. “i could look at you forever.” his hands slide higher, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your top. he thumbs your nipples, coaxing them to hardness as he teases and plucks at the sensitive buds.

breathless, eyes wide with excitement and guilt as you look around at your secluded spot amidst the bamboo forest. gasp as another wave of pleasure crashes over you from your thick cock stretching your velvet walls. eyes flustered closed while your fingers curled up, wrapping the fabric of his suit around.

“fuck, it feels so good...“ you start moving faster on top of him, riding him harder as the thrill of getting caught only heightens your arousal. you lean down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth as you continue to bounce on his lap, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. “we’re being so naughty out here in the open... what if someone walks by and catches us in the act?” you asked, tone nonchalant so the heartbeat once you pull away.

a low groan escapes shiu’s throat, feels your tight heat gripping his cock tighter with each hard ride. his hands grip your hips, guiding you to fuck yourself on him even deeper— panting heavily, he looks up at you with lust-filled eyes.

“let ’em,” he rasps, his voice husky with desire. “i want everyone to see how badly i’m fucking you right now.” shiu’s fingers dig into your flesh, pulling you down to slam your cunt onto his shaft again and again. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the quiet woods, mixing with your high-pitched moans and his deep growls.

“you’re so goddamn sexy like this,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning across your ear. “riding my dick in public, not giving a damn who sees...” your body trembles as shiu’s words, intensifying the burning need within you. you throw your head back, lost in the ecstasy of being taken so roughly, so publicly. each harsh thrust makes you cry out, your voice carrying through the stillness of the bamboo grove.

“sooo dirty,” you tease between giggling, grinding your clit against him as you impale yourself on his thick cock. your hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, squeezing and tugging at your nipples as you continue to ride shiu with wild abandon. leaning down, you capture his lips once more, kissing him deeply as you move, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

shiu meets your fervent kisses with equal passion, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he devours you whole. his large hands roam your curves, squeezing and kneading your supple flesh as he drinks in every moan and whimper that spills from your lips. few seconds and he breaking the kiss to trails his mouth along your jawline, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. “mmm, such a naughty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with approval. “wants to get caught, huh? wants everyone to know you’re mine.”

shiu’s fingers find their way beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming up your stomach to pinch and roll your hardened nipples. he watches intently as you writhe above him, your breasts bouncing with each frenzied movement. one hand leaves your hip to palm your breast, thumbing your nipple through the fabric of your shirt before slipping beneath to tease the hardened bud directly. you let out a sharp gasp as shiu’s skilled fingers play with your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“mmm, feel that, doll?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with lust. “your tits are so sensitive, i bet they’d be perfect for my mouth.” the sensation of his warm breath on your skin and his filthy words make you ache for more. “please!” you beg, arching your back to push your chest further into his touch.

with a wicked grin, shiu pulls your shirt up and off, revealing your heaving breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze. he wastes no time, taking one pert nipple into his mouth and suckling greedily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

you moan loudly, head thrown back in bliss as he lavishes attention on your other breast, pinching and rolling the neglected nipple between his fingers. shiu releases your nipple with a wet pop, leaving it glistening and swollen. he gazes up at you with dark, lustful eyes, his own chest heaving with exertion.

“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire. “make some noise for me. let everyone know how much you love having my cock buried deep inside you.” he punctuates his words with a particularly forceful thrust, making you cry out in pleasure. shiu grins, pleased with himself.

leaning forward, he takes your other nipple into his mouth, suckling and nibbling until you’re squirming and mewling above him. his free hand slides down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower to rub at your clit in slow, deliberate circles.

“you’re so close, aren’t you?”

[hanasnx]

“ SHE JUST WENT TO HEAVEN AND BACK ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content: riding dick ノ playing dumb for a boy ノ some light humping ノ reader has kinda long hair ノ size difference.

you’re so desperate for clueless CLARK KENT’s attention that you play dumb and get him to mansplain his video game to you while you sit in his lap. he’s been busy lately and to get him to take the hint you wear one of your shortest skirts, invite yourself into the best seat in the house, and ask, “what’s this?” gesturing to his lit tv screen.

he explains it all, some boring lore he’s really into and the controls and the tricky part he’s stuck on right now.. and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. his pretty girl is sitting in his lap and he’s not even paying it any mind. but clark is paying it mind. he’s rambling bcos he’s nervous, and if you’d turn your head you’d see the pink dusting his cheeks. he can feel your bare thighs through his denim, and your floral shampoo fills his nose… he trails off mid sentence when he focuses too hard on the growing interest in his pants.

“i wanna play.” you say when you’ve had enough of his aimless babble, and without thinking it through, clark places the controller snugly in your palms, while his larger hands overlay yours.

“alright, so this button…” his thumb atop yours presses down in a click, and you see the avatar swipe air with his sword because of it. “is your attack move… and this—“ you’re not paying any attention to what he’s teaching you. instead, your brain conjures up evil memories of everything you’ve been missing. your eyes wander to the corner of his bed he’s sitting on, and you wish he’d fold you over on it like before. wrestle you down and pin you so he could flip your little skirt up and get to work. you’re tuning out his words while he’s playing the game over your hands which dampen with sweat, suddenly hot and bothered at the thought of him fucking you in this position… if only he were brave enough to unbuckle his pants.

your lips press together, your heart rate quickens, and clark’s ears perk up. thump thump… thump thump… thump thump…

he inhales sharply, right as the sting of what it feels like to be filled by him shoots up your core like lightning. you jump in place a little at the cruel trick your mind is playing on you, and the friction of your ass bumping against his halfie makes it twitch as it chubs up. the avatar’s HP lowers little by little as its enemies overwhelm it, but neither of you move.

“why didn’t you say anything?” clark’s breathless words come out husky and sultry as he chuffs them out of his teeth, lifting you up and down by your hips like you’re nothing more than a weight at the gym. your hands lay atop his, twisting your face as that cock buries itself right where you needed it, bullying that spongy spot in you sore from neglect. “i’ve been thinking about you, too…” he fills the silence, paired with the wet sounds of an eager pussy swallowing him up. he yanks you back, and you land on his chest still clothed, your hair bunches up on his shoulder while his lips find your ear. your hips now married with his, he rolls yours, screwing his dick into you like he’s rediscovering all your nooks n crannies.

one arm rounds you to secure you against him in a warm embrace, seeking out your clit between your spread legs, toying with it like taffy and it makes you whine.

“you didn’t have to act like you cared about my game,” he’s taunting you, right in your ear, ending it with a gentle nip of his teeth to your shell. the point of his canine sends a shock through you, and your legs straighten involuntarily. he keeps you where he wants you with overpowering strength, you can’t raise yourself when he’s got you in a vice. his thumb and index feel cruel against your bud, as if chastising you for trying to trick him.

“well, it worked, didn’t it?” you exhale, leisurely squirming against him desperate for some movement. there’s pride in your voice.

“this skirt worked.” he corrects. the skirt now bunched up around your waist about the same time he’d pushed his denim out of the way so he could free his cock and give you a new seat. “could hear your heartbeat, you were so obvious… c’mere.” he grants your wish for more, pushing you forward so he could gather your arms behind you. bent, your feet barely toe the ground while he uses your wrists to leverage you, tugging you back while he bounces you up with the force of his hips.

[earthtooz]

x : LUST FOR LIFE *+ﾟ

in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.

warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited

a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday

What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?

This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.

Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.

Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency? 

Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.

He learns more about humanity with each passing day.

However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation. 

It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you. 

“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound. 

“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks. 

The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.” 

“I see, thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.

Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent. 

“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”

It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.

“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains. 

Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” 

“What? No! That’s not it-”

“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”

“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”

“Besides, we already did once.”

He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding. 

You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?” 

They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies.  Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.

“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.” 

He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”

“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”

Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?

“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.” 

“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”

Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.

The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face. 

When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.

You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained. 

Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him. 

Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you. 

This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before. 

How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform? 

Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head. 

“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.

You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away. 

(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)

Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[hollandsangel]

move over | m. sturniolo

okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid

ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜

summary: matt needs a bigger bed

wc: 1k

warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!

..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.

with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.

it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.

for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.

matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.

“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.

matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”

“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”

matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”

chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”

matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.

chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.

you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.

“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.

matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.

“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.

once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.

you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.

after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.

“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.

“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.

he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.

“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.

“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.

“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.

“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.

“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.

“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.

you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.

“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.

“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.

tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears