#fic i was working on

[sapphoherselz]

Writing this in my docs cause it keeps deleting on tumblr!! SO, third time is the charm…

Lesbian andreil based on a fic a was working on “one of your girls"

NSFW!!!

Comphet

Writing sucks!! So, Alexa play Picture You by Chappelle Roan

1. Neal and Andrea are not in love with eo, they’re just very good roomates and Neal is 100% straight and is going to end up with a man even though she has never felt any physical or emotional attraction to the opposite gender, until

2. Andrea usually brings her hookups to their apartment, and Neal usually leaves said apartment to give them some privacy, UNTIL

3. Neal has the apartment to herself one night, and she decides to follow her friends advice and explore by herself because apparently “you need to know what you like before trying it with another person”;

4. so, she watches porn, she read some articles but it's doing nothing to her, even if she’s tying to mimic what they're doing, UN TIL;

5. Andrea comes home and she’s brought someone over! Neal's hearing is very good and the walls are very thin so she can hear everything they’re doing;

6. everything, meaning the passion in their kisses, the hurried footsteps and…Andrea leaving her one night stand on her bed while she goes sitting on a chair because apparently she prefers to give orders and watch how their partners pleasure themselves;

7. And look, Neal is not a pervert or a voyeur or anything like that but she was there first and she’s going to get an orgasm out of her, come hell or high water!

8. It's not her fault if she can hear Andrea so clearly it's almost as if the blonde is whispering in her hear, it's not her fault if the "You're gonna touch yourself for me, Nath”, the order being given, the ever present authority combined with this intimate moment making Andrea's voice huskier than usual, or the accidental use of her almost-ex-name, that make all of her senses feel heightened; goosebumps rise delicately on the length of her arms and legs, the faint fragrance of cigarette that always seems to follow the blond seeping through the gaps of the wood pattern into her bed, wrapping her tightly;

9. It's not her fault if she starts touching herself just like Andrea is telling her partner-for-the-night to, her ears perked as if she were a puppy, trying to catch the faintest breath of air escaping from Andrea;

10. It's not her fault that the blonde's voice, once it comes, is as flat as it usually is, devoid of any emotion, reminding her one-night stand to slow down and Neal can't help the thoughts flooding in her head, telling her that she's doing good and wondering if the other would praise her if she knew, if she were the one- the mere thought is enough to make her her hips buck and jerk unconsciously against her cupped hand and…oh. That’s different, that's good;

11. It’s not her fault if she has to bring the unoccupied hand to her red-bitten lips as a a faint wail slips its way out of her, hips still oscillating despite the fear of being caught; the touch makes her feel ashamed but stimulated at the same time, heaving breaths getting out of her opened lips as silently as she can;

12. It's not her fault that she starts mouthing Andrea's name, wishing she were the one screaming her name, instead of having to swallow it down as she keeps rubbing oh so slowly, her long legs shaking, eyes half open and half closed, wisps of sweaty hair sticking to skin;

13. It's not her fault that once she comes, her vision blurring, her body trembling greatly as if an earthquake had taken place in her body, her hand still moving as if it had a mind of its own, that she wanted the wall between them to disappear, to have the blonde leaning over, her chest against her back, kissing her shoulder, her neck, whispering sweet nothings in her ear;

14. But that can’t never, ever happen because Neal is a straight woman, she's not attracted to Andrea and this whole night was just a fluke;

15. Neal throws these false hopes away as far as she could, as soon as they came. She has not even an ounce of strength left, simply letting the wall support her weight with a far-away look in her eyes, still gasping for breath and listened unwillingly as the other woman came off from the high, wondering if she was being helped cleaning herself, if her hair was being played with, if her forehead had been kissed…

16. But Neal didn't need any of this, she could do it on her own. She lays on her side, her knees up to her chest and shivering from the cold of the night, a hand resting on her own head, twirling a few curls, scratching her scalp, imagining a larger hand, a rougher touch…

17. And if Neal falls asleep, still muttering her roomates name, that's nobody's business;

…

18. And if Andrea had almost said the wrong name, lost in the red curls and freckled skin, if she had pursed that woman because she resembled one annoying roomate of hers…then it's really her business, and no-one else's.

[holographings]

someone on twitter said Imagine what s2 jayce would give to talk to s1 viktor just one more time. and someone had a time travel alternate dimension fic ready to go. and i read it. and now my face is being eaten by 3750 feral dogs i think

[itseghost]

"Unbidden, an image of Jayce smiling in bed earlier this morning comes to mind. Viktor's hand on his cheek. His slightly chapped lips. His bedhead. Stubble. His smile lines. The shape of his jaw."

___

one of my favorite little scenes from coming home (but not to you) by @lesbianherald :) haven't done comics in so so long but really wanted to give it a shot lol

[itsscaredycat]

and they lived happily ever after 🥲🙏

[constant-stateofdenial]

[roppiepop]

Typical role dustribution

[nenoname]

hunting down a specific image but finding miscellaneous storyboards/some cut panels from the stan comic story instead

[frownyalfred]

thinking about the expert masseuse Alfred hired for the family that is paid a small fortune annually to provide massage services and ignore so, so many things. No questions, no remarks, just quality service and an ironclad NDA that, if broken, would probably topple said masseuse’s entire family line.

Things Alfred is paying them to ignore, in no specific order:

Bruce’s spinal hardware courtesy of Bane :)

weird amounts of muscle on everyone, even the kids (despite them allegedly not working physical jobs)

scars

FRESH scars

the fact that every joint in Bruce’s body clicks when moved/manipulated at the tender age of 42

Olympic athlete level physiques

rotator cuff injuries across the whole family

scars that are definitely from bullets and/or acid splashes

old signs of what looks like torture (Bruce)

Dick’s entire left arm is basically screws and plates (he “fell really bad” once)

every single family member takes deep tissue massage with max pressure with 0 complaints

calluses

no really, the weirdest fucking calluses

[foreststarflaime]

Sure sure romantic pairings are fine and all. But more people should perhaps consider two characters loving each other to the point of incomprehensibility. To the point that there is no simpler way in english to define or describe it than just to say those characters’ names together, joined eternally by the vague conjunction ‘and’. There’s so many types of love and dependencies and emotions in general thrown in there that you can’t tell what colors they are anymore, they’ve just joined into a giant blobby mess that’s almost black, but when you look closer glistens with more colors than there are names for. Just a thought

[eydilily]

break like an artist.

--

a collab between me and @slashmagpie for hermitadaymay's Solstice Social Collaborative Event! make sure to check out magpie's amazing fic for this too :D

(alternate ver under the cut)

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny: Ugh, they're back again

Jazz: Don't make that face at paying customers. Do you want to make a portal back home?

Danny rolling his eyes: Yes

Jazz: Then we need to get enough money to buy the parts. If that means waiting tables at a barely legal dinner, where idiots hit on us, then we wait those stupid tables. Now go over there and get the Waynes to leave us a 200 tip.

Danny: Fine, but only if you do too!

Jazz: *Tighten her apron straps into an hourglass figure* Way ahead of you.

Danny: *Rolling eyes but does the same*

Meanwhile with the Waynes

Bruce: It's so nice to go out to eat with you all

Alfred: Indeed. It's a nice change, don't you agree, children?

Wayne kids: *hyperventilating*

Bruce Not looking up from his phone: The Fenton siblings?

Alfred: Indeed, sir. It seems like Master Dick, Master Jason, and Miss Cass are going to attempt to speak to Ms. Fenton today. Master Tim, Master Damian, Master Duke, and Miss Steph don't seem mentally ready to look Mister Fenton in the eye. Bets?

Bruce: Dick chokes on his fork again. Tim face plants on the table, and Steph once again speaks in gibberish after forgetting the entire English language.

Alfred: Very good, sir.

[eridan-ampora]

i love it when characters are codependent. i love it when losing someone feels like losing a limb. i love it when two people "complete" each other so wholly and terribly that one can barely function without the other. i love it when the fear of losing the only person who understands them is so all-consuming they'll destroy anything to stay together, including themselves.

[blueflipflops]

Have you ever read a really good fic then looked up the author's other works and lo and behold a treasure trove of fics that are exactly your kind of shit? Because god that is what euphoria feels like. I love you random fic writers i unexpectedly find

[chososcutie]

warnings: fem!reader, edging, overstim, handjob, lotsa cumming

needy!satoru who is a total sex addict. he's just so whipped for you and your pussy, he can't help the fact he has to fill you up with cum every chance he gets.

needy!satoru who will fuck you anytime, anywhere, from the bedroom, the kitchen counter, his workplace, the public restroom, anywhere.

needy!satoru who never gives your poor, overstimulated cunt a rest, either stuffing you full with his long, slender fingers, lapping furiously between your legs at his favorite meal, or his favorite, burying his heavy, swollen cock deep into your warm, gooey walls.

needy!satoru who you, as a result, put on a pussyban.

"babyy, c'mon.." needy!satoru whimpers, hands desperately clutching at your shirt as his pretty, snowy white lashes flutter at you, almost brimming with tears. he just doesn't know how he's gonna live without your pretty pussy!

you push him off, complaining about how sore you are, and that he's gonna be fine.

needy!satoru who after only a few hours, is already whining and pouting, trying his hardest to make you give in to him by constantly draping himself over you, or pressing against your body snugly.

needy!satoru who after a day and a half, is almost feral, his thick, curved shaft pulsing steadily against the confines of his sweatpants, the sight so lewd and obscene, you almost call off the ban.

almost.

needy!satoru who by day three, is practically humping the walls, rutting against your ass every time you turn around or bend over, and pouting when you push him away.

needy!satoru whose eyes roll back in his head, hips instinctively lifting for more when you reach across him for the tv remote, cock achingly hard and throbbing.

needy!satoru who thrusts himself into your hand desperately, pleading sweetly for you to stroke his cock just once, he needs it!

“fine, satoru.” you concede grudgingly, and more than a little wet at the sight of your pathetic boyfriend.

needy!satoru immediately sighs in relief, head lolling back as you finally take his neglected length into your hand, already oozing with glossy pre-cum.

"mmh jus' like that.." his hips rock against your hand steadily, as he quickly builds speed, so much pearly pre leaking out of the reddish divot on his head, it almost looks like he came already.

needy!satoru whose cock is already twitching and jerking in your grip, like it does when he's close, making you hum softly, "aww, is m'poor baby all worked up already? such a pathetic little thing you are.."

needy!satoru who loves it when you degrade him, and is only getting closer, his eyes screwing shut tight as he whimpers, girthy inches seeming to swell bigger, weeping tip gushing more dewy pre.

and when you lightly rub your thumb over needy!satoru's slit, hand tightening ever so slightly, he only lasts one more pump before he's spurting ribbon after ribbon of creamy white cum, splattering across his tummy as his hips stutter sloppily, a moaning, whimpering mess beneath you.

needy!satoru whose whines of pleasure only get higher as your hand never stops in its ministrations, continuing to stroke him off with renewed vigor, thumb sweeping the milky dredges of his seed across his sensitive tip back and forth, and back and forth.

needy!satoru whose hand weakly grabs your wrist, voice raspy as he groans, "b-baby, baby easy, i c-came already.."

needy!satoru whose embarrassed to say, is gonna cum again, and nearing the brink of overstimulation as big tears prick at his eyes.

"mmh.. m'gonna.. g-gonna..!" is all needy!satoru can say before he's making a mess of himself again, bucking wildly while his vision turns spotty.

your mouth curves into a cheeky grin, tittering as you take in the wrecked mess your needy!satoru made, hand still moving in slow, languid drags as you lean in closer, whispering in a sultry tone, "since y'er so eager, you're gonna let me milk you dry, until you can't even think about cumming without crying with overstimulation.."

[magicpiano]

Danny Fenton sends Superman a fan email in which he asks for advice. In it he says he is also a non-human hero (he is vague because being a ghost is illegal) Danny mentions that he is being raised by humans. His parents don't know about his activities or species and hate his kind.

Danny was mostly looking for advice on how to make people stop being scared of his non-human characteristics. But Clark really sees himself in this teenager's email. He knows he was lucky to get parents who loved him even as an alien, but he also recalls being young and scared that would change.

So they start regularly exchanging emails, and Superman becomes a kind of mentor even if Danny refuses to tell him anything about his identity.

[swordsandholly]

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.