#get it out of my DRAFTS

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

missing jin hours (1/??)

[aquarri]

you've got the music in you, don't you?

[abed-with-a-knife]

To Err Is Human--[Error: Does Not Compute]

nearly 8k words birdrick hurt/comfort oneshot . heehee

[shawtuzi]

currently thinking about plug!geto beating your pussy up after a hotbox….

“oh suguruuu,” your eyes rolled back in pleasure, freshly manicured nails (paid for by yours truly) digging into his biceps as he fucked you like he hated your guts. he had your seat reclined back, knees pushed to your ears as he gave the you meanest strokes known to man.

you peered at him through your lashes, mewling when you saw he was already staring back down at you. his eyes were low n red, the tiniest smirk on his face bc he knew as long as he had you like this you couldn’t run from him. sure it was cramped as hell but shit he wasn’t complaining—especially with the way your pussy was gripping his dick.

“you look—s-shit! look so pretty like this y/n. pussy feels so fuckin’ good. . . so fuckin’ soft. am i making you feel good y/n? speak up,” he got no response in return, your attention solely focused on his the view of his dick pounding into you. the sight was very erotic. . . one could even say it was pretty. you were broken out of your thoughts by a quick slap to the face, followed by geto gripping your jaw, squishing your cheeks together.

“i said am *thrust* i *thrust* making *thrust* you fucking feel *really hard thrust* good?” you nodded frantically, tears now filling your lash line because baby he was fucking you that good. “yes—yes sugu you’re making me feel so good thank you,” you sniffled, making the sick man laugh.

“you’re so cute,” he hummed, pressing his lips to your forehead before pulling his dick nearly all the way out just to slam back inside you. he stayed in place, now choosing to grind his hips into you, his hard stomach rubbing against your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. your hands slapped against his chest, whining something along the lines of him being to deep—but right now in this moment?? there was no such thing as too deep.

in fact he recalled you telling him not too long ago you wanted to feel him in your tummy again, so he was actually doing you a favor if you think about it—but who am i kidding your not doing anyyyy thinking right now.

“m’gonna cum sugu c-can you—fuckkk-uh!” suguru was already one step ahead of you, the rough pads of his ring and middle fingers now rubbing vicious circles on your clit. your body tensed, thighs shaking as you came on his dick for what felt like the umpteenth time. geto fucked you through your orgasm, his own trailing behind as he came in you with one last stroke.

*sighs dreamily* hotboxes with geto were always the best

˚ʚ♡ɞ

[hinamie]

trick or treat!

[chiptrillino-art]

(ID in ALT text)

Zuko is just playing hard to get

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

I spent all day on this, now I'm gonna go spend the rest of my Halloween with my family, I LOVE YOU GUYS, HAVE A GOOD HALLOWEEN!!!!!

I lost the ask this was supposed to be attached to :'(

Woah, actual communication??? Between these bozos?? More likely than you'd think 🙏

Previous!!

Next!!

First!!

[sparrowlucero]

The night of the fire we had caught the thing worming its way out of the well, crude oil spilling from those screaming, wretched jaws like liquid gold.

[cheriecoke]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[frownyalfred]

It must be an insane mindfuck to know that Batman and Superman, the couple everyone in the JL thought consisted of “intelligent scary guy” and “rainbows and puppies guy” actually moonlight as “bimbo billionaire with no brain cells” and “highly competent but socially awkward investigative reporter” and all of those masks are true enough, but they don’t even come close to scratching the surface of who they are. One layer down from that gets you “Bruce Wayne, Father” and “Kal-El, last son of Krypton” but again, not quite close enough.

[payasita]

who'd call proofreading an artform on its own?

[bemp0]

After work hours

[verflares]

would you like to live deliciously?

[6okuto]

taps my mic. osamu who's just opened onigiri miya, who's so, so proud of himself but scared shitless all the same when teammates and family call to check in on him, whose smile wobbles not from anxiety but excitement when a customer shyly walks in.

and you, who he quickly learns the name of because you visit on the first day, and keep coming the days after—the first regular he hopes, and you promise, of plenty more.

he asks you for your opinions on the menu so far, the stools he's still not sure about, the volume of the television playing above, if the takeout box, filled with experimental flavours, he gave you for free a couple days ago had any winners. you answer happily, and even if it's a shrug or hand gesture meaning "so-so," osamu appreciates it all, deadset on turning your so-so's to something unquestionably good.

you're his secret to keep for a while, a good luck charm (for the whole staff, he specifies when you tease him about it) when you walk in. so when atsumu and his team visit for the first time since the grand opening, and one of the employees happily exclaims your name as the doorbell chimes, he shoots his twin a look. "wow, big shot, y'got regulars already?"

but atsumu's teasing lasts only a moment before his expression morphs into one of confusion, and then another—one a twin sends his twin when he realizes he's been kept in the dark about something, someone, that brings a sickeningly happy smile to the other's face. osamu isn't even looking at him when he answers—"yeah, one."

[wardingshout]

late summer times

[laurasimonsdaughter]

“The first thing you need to know,” the stable master announced loudly to the gaggle of school children trailing behind her, “is that these are not unicorns.”

Eleven-year-olds tended to be loud. Their silent scepticism was deafening.

“You cannot keep unicorns in captivity,” she continued. “These are all crossbreeds, mostly with specific breeds of horses.”

There was a small murmur of curiosity and a gangly arm shot up into the air.

“Yes?”

“Only mostly horses?”

It was always fun when some of them paid close attention. “Only mostly horses. I only deal with European breeds, and they tend to cross well with horses. See this here is a cross between a grey Thoroughbred and an English Unicorn. They’re large, and reasonably docile.” They also had that champagne sheen most showy folk preferred. “For people who come here looking for a steed, this is their best bet. Although I've only ever seen it done by people who personally broke them as yearlings.”

By now she definitely had the whole class’s full attention.

“But this French Licorne cross is actually half fallow deer.” She gestured to the pasture beyond the fence. “Look at them. Slight build, slender legs, built for speed and agility. They need a lot of space but they are beautiful to look at, and they’re relatively easy to tame for the pure of heart.” There was still something distinctly deer-like about them and they were all so beautifully cream coloured that they almost took on a silver hue.

“What’s those hairy ones?” a voice piped up.

“That’s a Unicorno/Shetland mix, from central Italy. Traditionally they tend to be crossed with Monterufolino, but they are hard to come by and make their coats even darker.” Unicorni were naturally built more like ponies, some with considerably shorter horns, and their coats were often a much darker gold, or even brown. They were less flighty than the French breeds though, even if they showed blatant favouritism towards certain caretakers. They would even pull a carriage if properly motivated.

“Do you have any bigger ones?”

The stable master turned around. “What was that?”

One of the boys was standing behind her with a determined look on his face. “Do you have any like that but bigger. With the beards and the furry hooves.”

“Feathering,” she corrected automatically and the boy nodded eagerly. She frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”

“There’s really big unicorns,” he pressed. “With wild manes and tails and split hooves like the French ones but hair like those ones!”

“Buddy,” she laughed, “what you’re describing there is a Scottish unicorn and let me tell you, they cannot even be crossbred into domestication.”

The little face fell.

“Any offspring of an Aon-adharcach will be as wild as they are no one can capture them with their horn still intact, not on your life. You go near one of them with a halter and it will skewer you.”

She smiled at the boy, who still looked rather taken aback, despite this proof of his favourites superiority.

“Tell you what. If you want to see something unhinged and imposing, I’ll take you to see the Eenhoorn/Friesian cross we’ve just got in from the Netherlands.”