#gods I should be asleep

[theglamorousferal]

Update: (kinda)

So I've hit a bit of a roadblock when it comes to The Cryptid fo Smallville, I have the third chapter like 75% done before I hit a block and I have the fourth chapter planned out a bit.

In the meantime, I wrote up a short little thing for a plot bunny that has been rolling around in my head for months now. I had the idea a while ago that what if instead of Danny being Damian's twin, what if it was Sam?

So without further ado, I present the wip of (working title) The Demon's Head Jewels.

Slash, punch, block! 

I can feel his eyes on me like a brand.

Slash, slash, punch, kick, block, block!

A slimy feeling following my every move.

Kick, kick, slash, punch, block!

A small boy and girl sparred in an opulent room under the watchful gaze of their grandfather as their mother and instructor stood to the side. Both with hair black as coal, their movements a dangerous dance. Both tanned by the desert sun, though the boy was slightly darker. A trait he inherited from his mother while the girl leaned further toward their father. The girl had cold amethyst eyes. The boy had eyes of gleaming emeralds. Both had sharp, beautiful features.

Dodge, block, slash, punch, kick!

That’s it, I’ve got you now Dami-

Block, block, dodge, dodge, block, slam!

Dammit! Again?!

She was offered a hand, small as her own and similarly wrapped for sparring. She bit back a sigh and took the hand. Once standing, she and her opponent bowed to each other and then to their audience, then, kneeling with heads bowed, waited for their next command. The grandfather huffed like he had expected this outcome. It was several moments before anyone spoke.

“Your training seems to be going satisfactorily I see. I believe it may just be time to add poisons to your repertoire. Now, go wash up, in celebration of today’s achievement, you may rest for the remainder of the day.” The grandfather dismissed the children and rose to leave. The remainder of the party stayed still until he left.

The mother spoke to all still present. “Beginning tomorrow your schedules will be mostly the same except that where before you spent mornings learning and perfecting your martial arts, you will be studying poisons, the afternoons will remain as sparring time so that you do not dull. You are dismissed until the evening meal.” She turned to the instructor to tell him which poisons he should start out with. The children stood and made their way to their personal baths, nothing less is expected of the quarters of the heirs to the Demon Head.

[timidgrace]

𝜗ৎ miss you — art donaldson

— art x fem!reader ^_^

cw: smut without plot, oral (f! receiving), fingering (f!receiving), tiniest bit of dacryphilia if u squint.. overall very 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 stuff 👅👅👅.

୨୧ author’s note : hi tbis is my first fic so my writing sucks okay bye 🔥 hi sorry hi

it’s obvious to you that art has a very busy life. being an incredibly successful tennis player is not for the weak.

technically, not for your poor, sweet boy.

of course, art had an immense amount of talent and he loved what he did. but god fucking damn it— all those tournaments, endless training, the exhaustion afterwards.. all of it meant he’d be away from you, away from the loving arms he just loves to nuzzle against, from the long legs he loves to rest in between. it’s the most mentally draining part of playing tennis, in his opinion.

rewatching the big bang theory for what seems like the 20th time, hair dripping wet from the shower, the doorknob makes a little noise and you look up.

first it’s his smell. then his right foot. then his head. then a smile, from the both of you.

“hi”, your voice cuts through the air, silent, except for sheldon’s endless blabbering about.. what was it? you don’t remember anymore.

without wasting another second, he jumps into your arms, your loving arms that he missed so much. he sighs, “hi, missed you so much, hi.”

running your hands through his hair, tickling the fine hairs on the back of his neck, you press a fond kiss to his forehead. he hums.

it’s been too long since you’ve held him like this. too long since you’ve smelled his cologne mixed with sweat, the scent filling your nostrils to the point it’s uncomfortably pleasurable; too long since his hands had squeezed your waist.

too long since something funny poked your thigh.

“art, hon?”, you smile and look down at him. he’s already crying from embarrassment.

“‘m sorry”, he whispers, getting up, wiping his tears, sniffling, “i can’t.. i can’t help it, ‘m so sorry, baby.”

“oh, hon”, you reply fondly, yet you can’t seem to contain the chuckle that escapes your lips. seeing him cry is a veritable sight. sometimes you wonder if he does it on purpose because he knows you get off to it. “cmere, ‘s okay, hm? it’s fine.”

you gather his tall frame (which now seems small) into your arms, kissing his forehead, nose, finally reaching his lips. you cup his jaw and gently squeeze it, making it slack just enough so you’re able to slide your tongue inside his warm mouth. he moans and you swallow the sound while your hand travels down to his thigh, dangerously close to his already hardened shaft, before your thumb brushes against his crotch.

“mmgh—“, he whimpers as quietly as he can before reluctantly pulling away from the kiss, a string of saliva following him. “pl-baby, please”, a breath, along with a sniffle.

you smile wickedly. there we go. he’s now reduced himself to begging— not at all surprising, but amusing nevertheless. “please, art? what are you being so polite for?”, you tease with a smile— no, a smirk— on your features.

“come on, babe”, he whines, tightening his grip on your waist. “i need it s’bad, please, please..”

“you need it that bad?” your hand is close. so close. your nail grazes his tip and he gasps, nodding frantically.

then you riiiip his shorts off him. his boxers follow behind. his cock, pre-cum just barely forming on his tip, slaps against his abdomen.

“there. what do you need?”

he doesn’t know. it just came to him that he doesn’t want to be touched. he wants to touch.

in a second, he’s on you, desperately sliding your panties off your legs and throwing them carelessly on the floor (or maybe it fell somewhere else, you’re too busy to care), arms around the back of your knees, long fingers spreading your lips and— god, you’re dripping. he moans lewdly at the sight.

burying his face between your legs, nose brushing against your clit, he laps incessantly at your folds. you gasp, you moan, your hips buck, you tug at his blonde strands.

“mmmh, yes, yes—“, you groan, legs wrapping around his head, heels on the back of his neck, pushing him forward. he moans, shaking his head from side to side, looking up at you with teary eyes.

a finger circles your entrance. oh, god, oh, god.

you nod frantically. you know he’s not going to tease you, but still, you’re desperate.

it slides inside you, gummy walls tightening with every inch. then it begins to move: leaves just so his nail’s at the entrance, then back inside. then another finger.

“mmh, tastes so good”, art moans, eyebrows furrowing in concentration, eyes fluttering shut before opening again because he realized he doesn’t wish to stop looking at you.

his fingers speed up in the slightest but you feel it. you feel it and you moan in delight, “mmh, yes, yes, keep going, art— mmh!”

your hips buck and he presses his head even closer to you, gently sliding another finger.

“art,” you moan, head lolling back in ecstasy, “baby, i’m gonna cum, yes, ‘m gonna—“

before you can even finish speaking, your orgasm hits. hits so hard. your hips buck and you grasp the fabric of the sofa desperately in an (failed) attempt to ground yourself. you gasp, you writhe.

art gently slides his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean of your juices, humming as he enjoys the taste of you.

with a sigh, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips and pulls back to whisper,

“i missed you.”

[saysflora]

SAS: Rouge Heroes as Textposts - Trailer Edition!

[stormwaterwitch]

[sugarfortia]

some sif sketches

Image 1: "Oh my ME! First name Siffrin last name Nobody !!" / "Woah, no touch." [The Change God visits Siffrin and is a little overenthusiastic due to time running smoothly again.]

Image 2: "You aren't allowed to hang out with Bonnie anymore." / "Oh, boo."

Image 3: "Makin' my way downtown, walking fast-" / "Do you run? Do you know how to run? Do you? [unintelligible text]" / "Walking FASTER-"

Image 4: "I'm gonna eat so much food when I get out of here..."

[willowser]

i feel like. bakugou didn't have any siblings and has always been a rough-houser, so by the time he's comfortable in his relationship with you, he's SO ANNOYING.

he comes back from his early morning run to find you still in bed and he just lays his entire body weight on you. he'll put you in a headlock for NO REASON. does the thing in the kitchen with a damp dish towel and it hurts omg, he's really good at it. like aiming for your ass EVERY TIME. i love that hc about him being too wound up if he doesn't expend enough energy at work, and you're trying to lay down and go to sleep and he's yanking the blankets off you or scooching too close or trying to poke and prod at you, so you lean over and WHACK HIM ONCE and it's like over for you. it's 10pm and he's ready to wrestle.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

audrey redheart wandersong drives me so insane it’s sickening. i make myself sick thinking about that freak. and i could talk about the obvious stuff- like how she wanted to be a hero to be revered and by the end of the game no one even thinks about her anymore- but i’m going deeper than that.

audrey was a bad hero. not because she’s immoral (even though she is) and not because she’s self centered (even though she is). but she straight up does not have the necessary skills for the task at hand.

audrey can’t speak the shapes-and-colors language of the overseers. granted, kiwi couldn’t either, at first, but that was easily resolved by an overseer, and eyala probably could have done the same thing, too. miriam canonically studied and learned the language just like anyone else would learn any other language.

but audrey doesn’t know it. whatever the overseers say is just colorful nonsense to her… you would think it would be pretty helpful to a heroic quest to be able to understand the language of your opponents.

but if you’re not supposed to know what you’re doing, it makes sense not to be able to glean any context from the ‘monsters’ you’re killing, doesn’t it?

audrey’s meant to be a high society big shot, but she can’t even recognize what a potion of power is supposed to look like?

kiwi sees her as a cold blooded killer, but when she’s deprived of her sword, she can’t even improvise?

audrey skips over overseers (like going to the queen of winds after chapter 3, when for all intents and purposes it’d be easier to do them in the same order kiwi’s doing them in), and the more you think about it, it really does seem like she was barred from encountering the overseers at all until kiwi freed up the nexus point first.

if audrey was a hero- The Hero- shouldn’t she have been able to do that herself??

audrey isn’t a hero. or, at least, she wasn’t chosen to be a hero. because if a hero was chosen, things wouldn’t have gone to plan. they would have stopped.

audrey didn’t have to be a hero. she just had to be isolated, cynical, desperate for attention, and obedient enough to follow orders without asking questions.

[awkward-fink]

Waiting for them to come Home (Part 2)

(Because I forgot to add some of the men we all love, didnt I?) Just imagine you are back on the couch, waiting for days now, your body laid out on the cushions, a soft blanket draped over you to protect you from the chill of the night. And you wait for the door to open, for your lover, your husband, your better half to finally come home again.

Alejandro doesnt try to be silent, even though it is the middle of the night, his gear thumping to the floor and his footsteps surely carrying him towards the kitchen first, opening the still warm pot to swipe a finger through the food, tasting it greedily. But soon he walks towards the living room, finding you and a brilliant smile lights up his face. He is quick to scoop you up and over his shoulder, hands splayed on your ass as he carries your spluttering and quickly awakened form up the stairs, promising to make up for lost time. His hand never leaves your ass all the way up, feeling and groping as he goes, body already burning. 'Mi armor, wake up, i brought some presents for you and the biggest of them is me!'

Rodolfo, that sweet big man, is quiet as he comes into your shared home. He knows you are surely waiting for him, you had always done it when he was late from his assignments. And lo and behold, there you are, curled around his pillow on the couch. A soft smile on his lips, he kneels beside you, caressing your cheeks and whispering softly to you. His big hands easily lift you into his arms, his cheek against yours, further whispering sweet nothings into your ear, soft kisses trailing along your nose until you scrunch it just the way he loves, waking you softly before he takes you to bed with you. 'Told you so often you dont need to wait up, Love. Warms my heart though, so good to me. Don't worry, im not gonna let you outta bed until I had my fill of your kisses.'

Horangi is a strange mixture of reactions. On one side, he always told you to not wait up, to sleep in the bed and be comfortable, he wouldnt mind. On the other hand, seeing you sleeping on the couch, clearly waiting for him to come back, has his heart just slightly racing, as if he had the dice in his hand and was only one throw away from the biggest Jackpot of his life. He hesitates for a second, just taking in your pose, his smile turning into an amused smirk as he sees you drooling in your sleep. Will take a picture to blackmail you with in the morning before unceremoniously putting you over his shoulder and climbing up the stairs, laughing at your sleepy mumbles and your hands steadying yourself on his hips and ass. 'Don't worry Byeolbit (my starlight, if Goggle is correct...), you can touch that some more in just a few minutes. After we both took a shower, one of us reeks and I am not sure its me.' Will pull you with himself under the shower, doesn't care about your PJ's or your sleepdrunk state.

König doesnt know what to do. He is big and burly and strong and he is scared to touch you, you look like a small doll so cosily curled up on the cushions and he really doesnt want to wake you but if you sleep like *this* its gonna be hell on your back and neck and he doesnt want it. That big man is fluttering helplessly around you, hands reaching out before pulling back without touching you, nearly whining underneath his breaths in indecision before he finally, after minutes, settles on poking your cheek gently. 'Liebling (Love, Honey), you awake? You are gonna hurt in the morning... Let me... Let me just...' His words taper off as you blink drowsily at him, so comfy but also so very happy he is home that you cling to him like a koala. His big arms wrap around you, his face flushing so bright he wonders if you can see it shining red in the darkness of your shared home. He is so very careful with every step he climbs up the stairs, one arm around your back, the other underneath your ass as he carries you without problem.

[wee-fuckin-woo]

This is my November 5th omg I feel like I just did a line

[sea-slug-rave]

with his personality a lot of people write Sirius to be the type of sleeper that splays out and steals all the blankets and wakes up in strange positions from tossing and turning, but I love the idea of him gradually going into the smallest ball, burrowed safely with the covers pulled to his brow, not really moving throughout the night except to cuddle deeper into the closest warm thing, and really Remus, normally so composed and polite, is the one who splays out limbs and incoherently mumbles and occasionally drools, but never moves far from Sirius against his chest, so when he wakes up curled around him he denies that he sleeps like anything other than a gentleman, this of course is not the case while he sleeps in the hospital wing, where he is as still as the dead from the exhaustion of it all, and it really unnerves Sirius when he watches over him

[whosthere54]

So uh y’all know that trope that’s like… exhausted/sick/injured character using their last remaining energy to sit up and lean against or weakly grasping at the other person not able to get a proper hold or reach? And then the other person letting them or pulling them in closer and mumbling something or pulling them back to sit/lay down?

Uh yeah. But like. Also prison duo.

[kremy-lecroux]

real important question boss, how tall are you real quick?

Uhhh, 6 feet if I recall? Same distance they'll put me in the ground, as I like to joke. Oh, right, Gid closed the ride for maintenance, gotta go around.

[riuuneon]

never piss off the artist friend bruh😭😭😭

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

Divine punishment using this drawing of them as a ref because they looked absolutely adorable and i just had to draw them being wholesome for once!

And now thats over im back on my bullshit

[alcohol-man]

The girls are in town and are the baddest bitches.

(I do not care if they would not he caught dead in fem clothing. I'm an artist, and my power is taking characters and putting them into situations you would not see in canon)

[kelpermoosee]

Knocking them over and watching them scramble to get up with those big ass heads