#but anyways hope you like it anon!!

[aquariium-ediits]

Mary Hunt Stimboard, Requested By Anon

Notes; Yet another wonderful character from "none of the main characters are straight". I mean. My Next Life As A Villainess. It was surprisingly hard to find suitable orange stims for her, but hopefully this looks good!

🧡 🌹 🧡 / 🧡 🌼 🧡 / 🧡 🌹 🧡

[rendevok]

step into the light

what do you see?

my sun,

my stars

shining on me

[hinamie]

god, i wish i knew you back when i was a kid / but when you stare into me now, it feels like i did

[kenjakusbraincum]

Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷

Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3

Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.

But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.

He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.

"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.

He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.

"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.

"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.

"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.

"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.

"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.

"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.

"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?

"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.

"Yes Master."

-

You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.

When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.

Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.

"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.

"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.

"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.

You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.

Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.

Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.

"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.

He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.

"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.

You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.

None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?

You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.

"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."

You bow to him and leave.

And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.

[skeptical-saniwa]

hi, pepp!!! i just wanna say that your art is sososo pretty ;>∆<; so i was wondering if we could get a disheveled dr. ratio after being smothered in lipstick kisses on his face (and neck maybe.... #scandalous)?? i think he deserves lots of smooches... even if he'd try to deny them at first. thank you!!! and i hope you're having an amazing day. your art & friendly vibes give me so much serotonin ♡

Hi anon!!

Ty!! I hope you have a great day as well! I’m happy that my art gives you a shot of serotonin :)

I’ve decided to make your request into a comic!

There’s space for more kisses!!! For you!!

[mangostarjam]

by your side — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x reader, gn for the most part but referred to as "sweetheart" (and "girlfriend" at the end), hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, written in response to this ask, 1.8k words

"Vice Captain! Vice Captain! VICE CAPTAIN!!"

You wince as Okonogi's voice pierces through the gunfire and explosions surrounding you and your officers. You shouldn't even have access to the Vice Captain's radio channel with Operations, but you've been friends for so long Hoshina Soshiro had simply shrugged and offered you a smirk.

"How else are ya gonna learn the ropes and beat me someday?" he'd asked. "It's not like lettin' ya listen'll keep your shots any steadier."

He was right, of course. Letting you listen doesn't do anything for your aim — but hearing the channel now, knowing he's fighting a kaiju that can talk — that's strong enough to control all these wyvern type kaiju? It's a testament to all these years of training together that your shots are deadly and precise, your heartbeat ricocheting in your ribcage as you breathe and brace your shoulder for recoil.

Another wyvern kaiju dives towards your group and you huff, planting your foot on a block of rubble and notching the rifle against your shoulder. "Minase! Hibino! Get out of the way!" you order, squeezing the trigger rapidly.

Your breaths are loud in your ears.

Static crackles down the line.

You wince as a yoju crashes into a building nearby, sending dust and concrete tumbling down. Your officers — Soshiro's officers, normally, except he's busy so they're yours, now — are tending to the wounded and taking down yoju behind Officer Shinomiya's two man squad with Officer Ichikawa.

You want to run.

You want to sprint.

Your fingers are clamped so hard on your rifle that they ache. The talking kaiju, the leader — Kaiju No. Ten — is huge, even from a distance. There's no way Soshiro can take it down on his own — he specializes in miniature and mid-sized kaiju, not this giant monstrosity with an itch for fighting. You should be there.

"Vice Cap—!" Okonogi's voice is hoarse from yelling. Does she have a visual of him? He must've been knocked through a few buildings or something, based on the smoke and sounds you can catch from their direction.

Not knowing is the worst.

"Okonogi… don't worry… I'm still kickin'," Soshiro's voice is way too cheerful in your ear.

"Are you alright? Hoshina-kun?" you ask.

Soshiro switches to your private channel with a hum. "Aw, are ya worried 'bout me? That kaiju really packs a punch! How're my lil fledglings doin'?"

You watch as Officer Ichikawa freezes another yoju out of the sky. "Shinomiya and Ichikawa could probably make platoon leader, sir," you slip back into formalities automatically, though your chest aches. You flex your hands on your weapon. "In fact, it looks like it's pretty much handled here. I'll head over to your location now."

"Platoon leader," Soshiro's voice is sharp. You wince and freeze. "Your orders are to lead my platoon. Don't worry 'bout me."

"But sir, that's a giant class kaiju now, and —"

"And I've got a job to do," he says. "I intend to finish it. Follow my orders, sweetheart. I'll be fine."

Warmth blooms along your cheeks even as dread sinks into the pit of your stomach. Fuck.

Your earpiece clicks back to Soshiro's channel with Operations and you bite at your lip as Soshiro informs them of his plan to keep fighting. Okonogi protests immediately. "But sir, you're in no condition to fight any longer —!"

She's right. His maximum release is deactivated and it's a giant now — at least if you're there, you can expose the core with your shots and Soshiro can cut it down. But —

"She left me in charge of the base," Soshiro mutters. Your stomach twists. You can barely see clearly as Officers Izumo and Kaguragi take down another yoju.

Instead, in your mind's eye, you're picturing Soshiro racing along the large limbs of his foe, slicing and slashing even with his diminished combat levels. Fuck. He's really going to do it — he'll let himself die before he gives up, and normally you admire his conviction and resolve, but right now you're sending your hopes out to anyone who'll listen to please save your stubborn stupid Vice Captain.

"Platoon leader, we'll be moving the wounded now!" Officer Minase shouts. You blink to clear your vision and nod.

This is not the time to lose focus.

"Vice Captain!"

Okonogi, again. Not good.

"Fuck," you bite out, swinging your rifle into place and shooting down a yoju. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I swear, Hoshina, if you die I'll kill you. Who else am I supposed to share coffee with in the mornings? Who else is gonna tease me about the books I read?"

You hear Soshiro's choked laugh and your heart clenches. You squeeze the trigger again and the yoju in your sights dives out of the way. Soshiro sounds bad — he sounds like cracked ribs and breaths wheezing and you hear him spit what must be blood.

"Platoon leader! The path is clear!"

You provide cover fire anyway as the officers transport the wounded. The rest of the battle is a blur — Captain Ashiro's steady voice and the loud, decisive boom of her cannon echo in your ears, but you're protecting the infirmary when her order comes to hit the deck.

The blast washes over you like a wave and you shudder against the force, bracing against it even with your shield cranked to max. Your earpiece crackles and Soshiro sighs. "He's been arrested."

"I can't believe it," you murmur, climbing back to your feet with a wince. "Sir, are you alright?"

"What, back to formalities already?" Soshiro teases. You roll your eyes. "I'll be in the medic bay for a bit, sweetheart. Are you injured at all?"

"Just some scrapes and bruises," you promise, fighting off the blush creeping up your neck. "Did you check on all of your other officers already?"

Did he check on you first?

"I know you took care of 'em," Soshiro says easily. His confidence in you makes you want to cry. "Had to make sure my favorite platoon leader was alright."

The line goes dead and your heart stops. On the ranked officer channel you hear Captain Ashiro snap, "Get him to the med bay, now. I'll take Kaiju No. 8 into custody."

Your heart wrenches itself back into pumping as a sharp pain shoots through your chest. Did Soshiro collapse? Did he seriously — seriously — check on you with the last bit of strength he had left?

You spare a precious few moments to make sure your platoon (Hoshina's platoon) is accounted for and understand their orders to rest and help with securing the base, and then you bolt.

You're panting and dusty and there's still dirt smeared across your forehead when you make it to the med bay, but Soshiro's in an operation room and you're forced to pace in the hallway outside. Thoughts tumble through your brain like rocks, memories of training together and joking over drinks and shared morning coffees and all the times he's draped his jacket over your shoulders during late nights going through reports together. All the cracked jokes over your private radio channel and the silly smiles sent your way any time you laughed at one of his stunts.

You know you're not supposed to — he's your Vice Captain, after all — but fuck. You love him.

Platoon Leader Ikaruga is the one who finds you and sends you off to get cleaned up. "He's not going to be happy seeing you all banged up, and it'd be easier on his recovery if you're clean."

You can't argue with that, so you hurry to wash off the sweat and dirt and dust. As soon as you're done, you're back in the medical ward, pacing a hallway until one of the doctors finally emerges and directs you to the Vice Captain's recovery room.

"Soshiro —" your voice catches in your throat at the sight of him. His purple hair is splayed across the pillow, his bandaged chest rising and falling shallowly with every labored breath. You make your way quietly to his side and settle into the chair, resting your head on your arms as exhaustion creeps into your bones. It's been a long night.

He's okay. Soshiro's alright — a few cracked ribs and lots of bruises and stray cuts, but he's going to be fine. Dawn glides into the room slowly, lighting up the smooth skin of his neck and catching along the contours of his bandaged biceps and chest. The blanket is drawn up his torso and it's soft beneath your arms.

You fall asleep.

There's a hand patting gently at your hair, fingers sliding through the strands as you slowly blink yourself awake a few hours later. "Hey, sleepyhead," Soshiro's voice is low and a little rough. "What're ya doin' here?"

Someone's drawn the blinds shut, but sunlight filters into the room and makes his red eyes glow. You blink. "I'm here for you."

Soshiro's mouth twists. "You should be sleepin' in your own bed, sweetheart. I'm fine."

Your hand clenches into a fist on his blanket and his gaze drops to it. "You almost died, sir."

He stops petting your hair and reaches for your hand instead, tangling your fingers together and pressing his palm to yours. Your face warms at the rough scrape of his callouses against the sensitive skin of your hand. "That's nothin' new," he murmurs. He looks at you again and you can't bring yourself to look away. "We're Defense Force officers."

"You — you're more than just a Defense Force officer, sir," you choke out.

"Right, right, I'm a Vice Captain."

"Yes, but. Sir, you're also…"

Soshiro's gaze sharpens. "What's with the formalities, sweetheart? You called me by my name earlier, didn't ya?"

Your face feels like it's on fire. He heard that??

"You were asleep!"

"I was a lil drowsy on painkillers, but I heard ya loud and clear," Soshiro smirks. "C'mon. Lemme hear it."

You stare at him. He can't be serious.

Soshiro's smirk softens into something a little hesitant, a little nervous. "C'mon. I wanna hear my girlfriend say it."

Oh.

"Soshiro…"

His smile lights up the room. "Yeah?"

"Soshiro," you're blushing so hard it's a minor miracle nothing's caught on fire. "I'm gonna kiss you now."

He laughs and tugs you closer by your clasped hands. You plant your free hand beside his shoulder and hover above him awkwardly, mindful of his many bandages and the cotton taped to his cheek. "Well?"

"Shut up, or I'll dump you," you mumble, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips. You feel his free hand come up to slide around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. He laughs into your mouth as you pause, mere breaths away.

"Don't be mean," he murmurs. "I just wanna kiss my girlfriend."

[teastainedprose]

Homelander x fem!reader

First time Homelander cums by dry humping with clothes on

It's you. It's you, it's you. It'syou, itsyouitsyouitsyou. He finally has you in his arms, your mouth against his own and he can taste you and your scent is overloading his senses and the sounds you're making and and-

And it's all Homelander can do to keep from devouring you. He's been so good, waiting for what feels like years even if Homelander has only known you for a month at max. It's been torture, behaving and keeping his hands off as to not spook you. You're so skittish, always on high alert around him but now?

Something finally snapped within you. You'd pounced him. He's over the moon because of that. Now you're all his and Homelander refuses to let you out of his hold.

This close, your scent fills his nostrils as he inhales deeply. It's euphoric, your smell paired with how yielding and willing you are in his arms. The needy noises he coaxes from you makes his cock twitch, craving the sensation of being buried in you. In the warm, wetness that he knows will undo him. Even the thought of that sets him aflame.

Homelander moans against your mouth, the kiss becoming sloppy as he's intent on tasting every crevice within your mouth. He can't get enough, will never get enough and Homelander knows he's lost. Lost into the sensation of you grinding down on his lap, just as desperate as he is.

A whine escapes Homelander as you work yourself off atop him, the friction just enough to send jolts of pleasure through him. He knows pre-cum is smearing the cup within his suit, staining the red briefs and making a mess of everything. It's a mess that should be smeared on your inner thigh as you continue to ride him.

It's delicious and a little embarrassing, the two of you pawing at each other like teenagers as you continue to kiss. Your hands are raking through his hair, clawing at the front of his suit while he keeps a vice grip on your thighs, kneading the supple flesh there as he encourages the rock of your hips against him. Homelander can't even bring himself to try and strip you because the desperate pleasure of it's too much and he can feel himself racing closer to that edge.

-and he should stop, stop you and relish in this moment with you because you two have all the time in the world and you're something that should be savored. Yet Homelander can't stop himself nor the building pleasure and it happens before he even realizes himself.

Homelander groans, hips twitching under you as he spends himself in his pants. Now that mess is far worse because you grind yourself down on his still hard cock as it twitches.

He opens his eyes, heat vision burning there as he stares up at you because you have to know what just happened.

"M'sorry, I-" he starts as you tap your finger against his lips to silence him.

You're as smug as can be, hips rolling as you grin down at him. That pulls another groan out of Homelander, his eyes almost fluttering shut.

You don't look the least bit sorry as you dip your head down to catch his lips again.

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[egregiousmeme-art]

I think you should draw Odile more, i think Odile in your style would be soooooooo cool : >

Of course anon, anything for you (smol kiss)

iSaT Daily Doodle until I post my fucking animatic™: Day 12

Now with more Odile

[kikker-oma]

OMG I LOVE THE WAY YOU DRAW THE LU BOYS

Could I pls pat pat Hyrule??

Hyrule is positively glowing with happiness from the pats🥰🥰

[cascadeoceanwave]

EVERY DAY IN BARBIE LAND IS NEARLY PERFECT anon requested: barbie + locations (insp)

[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.”

[komystda]

tim character animation practice! this took a lot longer than it shouldve

when first getting back into marble hornets last month a huge inspiration was the lovely @sickhoondr and their style of drawing the characters, so a huge thank you for the fantastic art 🐟 💙 and making me want to make these silly moving pictures

hopefully i can make more of these but this took a while HAHA

Here's some different versions and progress for anyone thats curious:

from storyboards to final, i hope you guys enjoy the little animation haha. more to come, so as always stay tuned

[q1ngqve]

idk if you take requests but like..........

dr ratio x bratty gf,,,, perhaps a bit of daddy/sir kink as well,,,,,,,, you're really good at writing him like i literally luv your work :3

(btw sorry if this isn't allowed)

ANON THIS IS SO (>/////<)♡

CW; fem! reader, implied relationship, bratty reader, sir kink, manhandling, murder, choking, knife play, fear play, biting?, vaginal penetration (with the knife & his dick), orgasm denial, slight degradation but he calls you pretty <3

do not, I repeat, do not act like a brat when you are with your boyfriend, unless you want to be completely and absolutely destroyed by him, verbally and physically. but where’s the fun in being good when you know how thrilling it is to rile him up?

veritas ratio’s eyes narrow as you prance around the room, giggling at something this random guy said, slapping him lightly on his arm. he’s not exactly one for jealousy, but when you’re so oblivious to the way other men are looking at you in your short skirt has his head going fuzzy with irritation.

truth is, you know exactly what you are doing. your boyfriend has been so caught up in his research the past few days he hasn’t had much time for you, and your fingers just aren’t enough to satisfy yourself. so consider this as punishment for not giving you the attention you needed.

the man’s lips graze your earlobe as he leans in, whispering something flirty that makes you sick in the stomach. you hide your face in his chest, acting as if you’re embarrassed, and wrap your arms around his waist.

before the man could slide his hands down your back, you were pulled away harshly by someone from behind, a small yelp leaves your lips as you’re dragged away and out the bar, tripping over yourself with almost every step from how fast he was walking.

your head whips up when the two of you finally stop, only to find your boyfriend glaring down at you, his hair tousled and brows furrowed, clearly displeased with your actions. you lock eyes with him, and a shot of electricity runs up your spine — ah, there it is, that delicious feeling of being hunted.

“get in the car.” and he’s gone.

you watch from your seat as he walks out of the bar ten minutes later, hair slightly wet, blood splattered on his jaw, his strides long and angry, and you feel yourself sink a little deeper into the leather seat.

silence fills the air as he drives, the tension so thick you could barely breathe. why is there blood on his face? did he just murder someone? oh god, it better not be that guy from before…did you just accidentally help in ending an innocent person’s life? you feel your body shake as you watch him from your peripheral, his jaw and shoulders relaxed, which is worse than when he’s mad and showing it.

you’re immediately dragged out of your seat when he stops, carrying and dropping you onto the hood of the car. his touch is gentle as he runs his fingers up to your chin, gripping at it harshly and forcing your head to tilt up uncomfortably to look at him.

your eyes adjust to the dimly lighted empty car park, legs closed shut as he towers over you, his shadows ungulfing your own on the hood. “what is that?” you break the silence with a stutter, your eyes flitting between his other hand and his face, body tensing at the sight of a bloody knife in his grip.

the man before you smiles softly, something he rarely does, so you know this is gonna be bad. “you like making me angry?” your lips part slightly at his question, knowing the answer is yes, but his aura is so terrifying that nothing leaves you other than heavy breathing.

his other hand grabs the underside of your knee, pushing your legs apart as he steps between your legs before leaning down even further, chuckling when your breath hitches at the intensity of his stare.

he flips your skirt up as he runs a finger up your already drenched underwear, the slick sticking to the pad of his finger. you squirm backwards when he lifts the knife, twirling it in his hand like a toy. “no— what’re you going to do with that?” the bloodied knife glistens under the dim white lights, and you swear his eyes turned a shade darker as he runs the tip down your neck, reveling at the sight of you trembling beneath him in fear.

“teaching you a lesson.”

your legs twitch involuntarily when the sharp blade reach between your legs, whines escape your lips as you feel it press softly against your entrace. tears sting your eyes, every inch of your body is telling you to run the moment he presses in harder, the thin fabric of your lace panties tearing immediately.

“‘m scared…”

veritas ratio laughs, the sound cruel and deep, straight from his chest. “this is punishment,” smirk returning to his face, making him look like a devil in disguise, “for acting like a brat.” a strangled gasp leaves you when he plunges the knife handle into your pussy, your walls tightening around the rubber like a vice.

oh god, there’s a knife in me, was all you could think of before he fucks it into you again and again, the rough textures rubbing deliciously against your gummy walls. the adrenaline heightening your senses, making this feel better than it should.

“you wanna act like a brat? wanna be a little slut and flirt with every guy you see? go ahead, be my guest. your boyfriend’s jaw finally clenches, allowing his anger and jealousy to take over as he bites at your collarbone, the stinging pain has you scratching at his biceps. “‘m sorry!” a flurry of apologies fly from your puffy lips as you cry from the pleasure and humiliation of having a knife making you feel like you’re in heaven.

“sorry, what?”

“sir— sorry sir!”

calling him ‘sir’ seems to bring out his animalistic side because the knife clatters on the concrete floor instantly, before being replaced by his dick. the air is knocked out of your lungs the moment he slides in, so long and thick, stretching you out nice and wide under him like a toy.

another whimper leaves you when he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly at the sides, successfully controlling the amount of air leaving and entering your lungs. panic fills you as you claw at this hand, tears streaming down your face like a waterfall.

“take it,” his other hand reaching down to circle your clit, “like the pretty little slut you are.” black dots fill your vision as you clench around him, getting off of everything that is happening to you.

your boyfriend groans above you as he cums, warmth engulfs you while he continues to pound into you, riding himself down from his high. “sir, ‘m close— please!” you manage to say breathily, your hips bucking into his on its own accord, chasing your high.

veritas ratio steps away in an instant and your eyes fly open at the empty feeling of your core, seconds away from your orgasm. “wait, no!” he flips your skirt down before kissing you roughly on your lips.

“only good girls get to cum.”

⭒ A/N — not proofread yet!

[c-hrona]

hey!! may i suggest number 19 for vashwood for the things you said prompt?

Things you said when we were the happiest we ever were.

Ask game (request closed u.u)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

liking your art and opening your blog to see that you also made my other 90000 favorite pieces of charles and erik. oh my god you are out here in the mines and you are creating PURE GOLD BRO? OLD MAN YAOI FOREVER THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE

HEHE always at the scene of the crime.... thank you so much my friend !!!!!!! i'm so glad to be the creator of some works you enjoy and i look forward to creating more in the future for you to love !!

if i may .... provide a small preview of what i have prepared for later today as a thank you...

i hope you enjoy it once it's finished :]]] !!