#gooooo on guys

[egophiliac]

WOOO we're finally getting some Ride Kamens story content! ...and it's mostly Leon getting REALLY into being a small business owner! this is (unironically) an excellent sign for the future.

(what do you mean the Agent isn't wearing cat ears 24/7 in every outfit) (can't hear you la la laaaaa)

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “YOU REALLY ARE A FREAK . . . KYLAR .”

promise he didn’t mean to stupidly jack off to you , it was just hormonal urges acting up, yeah.

Fuck, underneath this thin layer of pure impulsivity, he’s undeniably aware that he should’ve stopped things here the second it escalated— Hastily shut off the cheaply recorded clips hazily shown back towards him by the dimly lit monitoring of his screen. He had his tell-tale suspicions secretly simmering deep within, yeah, lil’ freak here knew you weren’t necessarily the most loyal of people ‘round town. Didn’t mean his skittish eyes to instinctively seek yours out in a crowded room, hidden amongst the numerous people he’d usually glance over in bare disinterest when in search for your own recognizable frame. A harmless crush, he’d initially call it to soothe the lurking urges annoyingly gnawing at the back of his mind, repeatedly whispering to him the instinctual need to fervently possess you further, sweetly leave his fair share of littered marks all around your unblemished skin so that the town may notably take notice of your cherished bond.

Still, this is— this is so fuckin’ unfair, y’know?? How dare you merely prove your brazen disloyalty to him time and time again and here he is, curled fist stubbornly snug around his leaking cock, tacky globs of pre-cum profusely dribbling out of his swollen slit as if he’s not crudely getting off to the sight of you— you, fucking getting your whorish boy hole ruined by another person. Desperate bucks of his hips, jeans carelessly slung down to his ankles below, rest of his sticky with cum underwear probably thrown somewhere along the scattered mess in his room. It’s sick, downright vile and he knows it, but fuck— it has started off with a familiar scowl making its way past his normally soft features when faced with your usually placate room devoid of anyone else but his watchful eyes carefully taking in the sight of your snoozing frame comfortably tucked away under the woollen covers.

Except, you’re not truly alone and ah, here goes.. Robin? Seamlessly sneaking himself into your room instead, not him, but that fucking friend of yours constantly sticking to your sides at school, outside of there too — yes, he’s checked, no he’s not a creep for it! — Affectionately nosing along the crook of your neck, muttering out wistful words, he, himself cannot possibly hope to discern considering his— well, namely cheap equipment he has to forcibly deal with, here. Subtle brush of your best friend’s palm sneakily disappearing underneath the thick blanket, though he can barely make out the outline of his hand dizzyingly slipping its way past your boxers, probably.. hah, feeling your cute cock up, sticky mess pervertedly staining the material already. The little, heated sighs collectively tumbling forth from both of your lips, discreetly obscured within the dark corners of your narrow room shouldn’t be affecting him this much. Yet, it is as proven by the burning flush heating his cheeks, teeth instinctively digging into the rosy flesh of his bottom lip. Inwardly seething at the pure display of love intimately being shown to him — without your aforementioned knowledge too, by the way — and that his cock itself is painfully reacting to it, stupidly tented against the front of his ripped jeans, craning his neck closer as if it might magically allow him to see your movements beneath.

Don’t need to wait all that long for it since you decisively do the honours for him of course, or unfortunately Robin here, whose hands and lips are busying themselves all over your originally untouched body. Supple fingertips coyly caressing rhythmic circles along your hips, thumb lovingly circling around the edge of your hot, drooling tip freed out in the air. Relishing in the hitched gasps, slightest shivers of your curled frame snugly pressed against his, adorably pleading for more with a needy whine of his name. A name, name that should be Kylar’s — not his. Repressed freak frustratingly chewing at his chipped nails, gaze not leaving your glazed over eyes for the briefest of seconds in favour of freeing his fat, throbbing cock from the tight of confines of his pants. It’s— It’s not bad! He’s just helping himself because at the end of the day, he’s nothing but a man too, just like you. A pathetic loser who’s wracked in a mess, stupidly fisting his cock at the bare sight of your figure being sinfully defiled by your best friend hidden beneath the haphazardly spread sheets. Swollen, pink nipples shown out in the cooling air for his eyes to breathlessly take in, soon also taken by Robin’s mouth hungrily latching onto one of them. Audibly suckling on the perky buds with noisy sucks, relishing in the muted gasps gradually being drawn out of you. Noticeable scrunch of your face, timid grasp finding its way entangled along the soft strands of your best friend’s hair in a shy mewl for more cuz’ shit, it must feel good, right?

He could make you feel way better than that, promise! Though that’s the very last repetitive protest on his blurring mind, dumbly shut off as he jerks himself off. Slippery slides of his palm gliding along his cum coated length in an audible squelch!, rhythmic up-and-down motion of fisting his cock raw against his palm, furiously humping upwards in time with each controlled thrust of Robin on the other end. Hah, wonder what you’d do if you truthfully knew what he’s currently doing, how that precious owl toy gifted to you on that faithful day wasn’t for innocent intentions and all that, wasn’t to kindly look over you to make sure you’re always at ease. He means, it is! But, not necessarily that, no— in fact, it’s for opportunities like this. Like a pervert, he’s shamelessly getting off to your tight, little fucking hole being stuffed full of your best friend’s fat cock, bobbing dick cutely swaying between the tantalizing spreading of your thighs. Legs deftly locked around Robin’s hips in a tentative beg to keep going! and feels so fuckin’ good! and oh, how he wishes he was the one stupidly balls deep inside of you. Subtle arch of your back, peppered kisses being repeatedly planted against your pouty lips, lolling tongue and rolling eyes and fuuuckkk—- it’s the second you make immediate contact with him, maybe not out of purpose. No, definitely not, but the split second of eye contact you both share, slightest flicker of your gaze settling upon the owl who’s flickering camera is blinking back, recording this all — that has his hips stuttering, head impulsively thrown back and whiny moans hurriedly spilling past his open lips as hot spurts of his sticky seed spurt out of his cock and into the air. Stiffening limbs wracked with his orgasm, quivering legs sat atop his creaking chair all the while milking every last drop of his cock, till it uselessly dribbles out in pitiful droplets onto the ground.

Ah, look at the effects you have on him that he embarrassingly enough, cums so quickly from a mere glance of your eyes in his direction. And really, how he should be properly blaming you for the coated mess on his wooden floorboards which he should be currently cleaning right about now, lest his parents find out again. Truly, he should probably go and.. grab a wet rag now.

..And some tissues for later.

[raspiberry]

Based on This

WIP Belle and Nicole under the cut

they are girlfriends btw :)

[ash-and-starlight]

soulmates not in the romantic sense of the word but in the way two people’s fates entwine again and again, in the way they’re a mirror of each other in ways nobody else would understand, in the way their actions shaped each other’s destinies, and are the only ones who can understand the particular way the other has been ostracized from society. soulmates whose presence resonates in each other’s soul as clear as a compass and yet through all this they just can’t fucking stand each other. soulmates (derogatory)

[paperultra]

HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,499 words Warnings: None Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH Estranged husband — 1 Estranged wife — 1 Everything left unsaid — as desired

There’s bacon grease on his shirt.

You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.

It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.

“When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”

Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –

You smile, regardless.

“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.

You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.

“Oh, boy.”

“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”

Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.

“I’m sorry too.”

As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.

“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”

“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”

“Well … that too.”

“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.

You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.

“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”

“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”

“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.

Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.

“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”

The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”

Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”

You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”

There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.

Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”

“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.

As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.

“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”

Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”

She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”

You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.

“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”

Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”

“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”

While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.

You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.

—

A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.

“Mama, I found a man for you!”

“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”

“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”

Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”

“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”

“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”

She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”

“Maybe he just moved here.”

She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)

“Positive.”

It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”

Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

—

The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.

You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.

And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.

Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.

Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.

Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.

“You came,” he says.

“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”

“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”

“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.

You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.

Those scheming …

“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”

His head snaps up. “Going? But –”

You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.

Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.

(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)

You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.

Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?

The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.

You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.

“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”

“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”

Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.

You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”

He stops you before you can step out into the rain.

“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.

This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.

Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.

“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”

Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”

Ah.

You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”

Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.

It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.

You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.

“… Give me a week.”

His entire body loses its tension.

“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.

“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”

Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”

You nod back, hesitant.

The rain continues its heavy downpour.

“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”

“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”

With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.

You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.

[lucraven]

Even Cahara agrees

[carma-tjol]

Show me your worst. I love it all the same.

As long as it's me. As long as it's you.

[jensen-frackles]

the way i'm gonna go into work today and be like do y'all know the significance of november 5th?? do y'all even realize the weight it carries??? and they're gonna be like uhh yeah?? we gotta vote today?? and i'm just gonna be like well yeah, of course, make sure you do, but... destiel...

[anachronismstellar]

OK OK OK I NEED TO SLEEP BUT

in celebration of @notsofrozt teasing art

(omg omg check this out ITS SO GOOL),

AND this fic reaching 35 pages (someone save me) here's more Airplane vs The System!

Let the games begin >:)

---

There was only one thing Shen Yuan hated more than being considered stupid and it was actually acting stupid.

Because why, WHY haven't they checked the bane of their existence, the persona non grata of binary code, the absolute most devilish collection of pixels and fuckery, aka the System?

It was right there, the notification blinking in green, marking it as a mission in progress.

He clicked, actually expecting more trouble on top of the Mobei business, only to be presented with-

Mission in progress: Author's favorite.

UV002 objective: aid UV001

Mission progress: 47%

What. The fuck.

He hadn't accepted any new missions, there wasn't even an obnoxious notification! And what's up with his objective?! Aid UV001?! How?! It didn't give him any other hint of what to do!

Oh he wasn't just angry, he was furious.

To the point that he had almost torn the door off its track when he opened it, the noise loud enough to startle Shang Qinghua into throwing his brush at him.

As if that would help against a real attack.

“Have you seen the new mission?!” He snapped as he entered Shang Qinghua's improvised office, glaring at the other trasmigrator.

“W-What?” Shang Qinghua blinked like a deer in the headlights, eyes puffed red as if had been crying moments ago.

Shan Yuan swallowed his pity, hardening his heart to focus on the task at hand. He closed the door to buy himself time before approaching the desk covered in parchment, slowly putting both hands on top of it to get closer to Airplane.

“Have you seen,” he pitched his voice low so they wouldn't be heard, doing his utmost to convey his fury through whispering. “The new. Mission.”

“Uh,” Airplane blinked again, scrubbing tears away, looking as lost as a puppy dropped from the moving truck. “Cucumber-bro-”

“Don't! You Cucumber-bro me,” he held himself back, closing his eyes to not lose his temper. “We're going to talk about your murderous ways later. Right now I need you to shut up and check. Your. System.”

He could see Airplane about to ask why, but his expression might have been terrifying enough because he just nodded and opened up his system, immediately frowning.

“What the fuck?”

“What? What is it?” Shen Yuan moved to get next to Airplane to better read what he was seeing. It never failed to amuse him how different their systems were: his looked like a proper video game menu, while Airplane's just looked like a lazy programmed blog.

“There's stuff missing. And I can't click on any missions. Like, I could at least check my old stuff? But now it's all gray?!”

“What do you mean?” At this point he was almost putting his face next to Airplane's so he could see, the bland white screen making his eyes burn. “Urgh how can you stand this, can't you change to dark mode? And go check for new missions.”

“As if, your system is way nicer than mine. Wait, do you have a new mission?”

“Yeah, it's called Author's Favorite. But it says nothing, just to help UV001. It's your user, right?”

-------

See you guys in the next update!

[hottiehiei]

Have you ever thought about what soft sex with Hiei would look like? Like a super mushy sweet Hiei just taking time to connect with the human that he loves?? Love what you’ve written ❤️

Ouuu, good question. Thank you, anon! This is for you <33

I added a bit of context to make the moment even sweeter. We love soft Hiei!!!!

The First Time with Hiei

nsfw (nothing too explict), gender neutral

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

𓆩⟡𓆪 It all happened so quickly. Hiei found himself hovering above you, neck and ears flushed red just from looking at you. He should’ve known an innocent kiss would lead to something more. At this stage, kissing was practically dangerous, but how could he ever deny you? It was hard enough keeping his sexual urges at bay, but the second you tugged on his sleeve, asking for more, he was wrapped around your finger.

𓆩⟡𓆪 On rare occasions, Hiei will blush when he’s too overwhelmed. Pay close attention, though. Blink and you’ll miss it! It happens when you touch him endearingly, like caressing the side of his face or placing your palms flat on his chest. And he certainly blushes when paying you a compliment. As you lay underneath him, chest heaving from all the kissing, arms trustingly wrapped around his neck— he can’t help but comment on how irresistible you are. He tries to mask his blush with a little smirk, attempting to remain confident.

𓆩⟡𓆪 That brings us to our next topic: body worship. Hiei loves you wholeheartedly, and you know this, but it’s natural to feel nervous about being naked in front of him. If you’re hesitant to take off your clothes, he will understand. To make you feel better, he lets you take his clothes off first, guiding your hand to his shirt, then his waistband. He avoids your gaze, “You’re not the only one nervous, you know.”

𓆩⟡𓆪 When you're ready, he gradually explores your body, starting with your shoulder and collarbone. After much encouragement, he makes you feel comfortable enough to fully undress without feeling anxious.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Lots and lots of foreplay. Hiei is learning how your body behaves under his touch. Slow grinding (clothed and unclothed) is his way of easing into the act without pushing too far. More blushing ensues, and Hiei can't hold back his moans. It starts as a soft sigh, mostly accidental, but he quickly notices how you react. Of course, he abuses his power, moaning directly next to your ear.

𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei is very attentive to your needs. He patiently waits for you to adjust to his size, frequently pausing each time you show signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find it bothersome. You simply look too cute for him to be upset. “Just focus on me.”, he says, pampering your face with featherlight kisses. He’s happy to share this moment with you and wants it to last as long as possible. Hiei also intertwines his hands with yours, providing an extra sense of reassurance and comfort.

✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻✧༺✧༻

extra:

Since it's his first time, Hiei will orgasm quicker than he intends to.

Howeverrrr, that doesn't mean it's over. He's eager to try again and outdo himself (which means more rounds)

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Heyyy, hope your doing well.

Is it ok if I request switch!april switch!mikey and lee!donnie.April is spending time with mIkey while painting a mural somewhere... and they get into a tickle fight in which donnie gets dragged in.. If that's cool with you :D

~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚝 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘!!! 𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚎 😌🫶🏾…𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎. 𝙴𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝙸𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚈 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 👏🏾💗💖💓💘˚*•✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟷𝟺𝟺

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜 

𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 👩🏾‍🦱💚 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝! 𝚂𝚘, 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛.

𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙶𝚂𝚂𝚂: @shut-up-jo @itzsana-kiddingmenow @aceofspades-doodles

@ziipzeepzop-eez @someone1348 @rice-cake-teen10

@savemeafruitjuice @cedarrthefluffylee @mistyandsnow @tmntstayheadforever

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚑 >:]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙶𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾‼️˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Pfft…Mikey you actually suck at this…” April said, stifling a giggle as she glided a paintbrush up and down her little brother’s shell. 

The smaller teen shrieked at the sudden contact, his giggles bouncing off his room’s walls, “R-Riri plehehease…!” The youngest giggled, squirming slightly as he dug his feet into the carpet. 

“Just say a word!” The elder said, “Literally any word that reminds you of this feeling!” 

“Ihihi daha— squeak dohon’t knohohow!!” The younger squealed out as he kicked his legs from underneath his elder sibling, “Ahaprihil plehease juhuhust stahahap!”

“I can’t 'stahahap' unless you tell me, bro! How does this paintbrush against your shell feeeeeel?” The girl emphasized as she swirled her paintbrush where Mikey’s shell met his plastron. 

“I cahahan’t— squeak pfftahahah!!!” The orange banded turtle cried as he arched his back, kicking his legs desperately from underneath his older sibling. 

“Just say a single word, little brother. Aren’t you the one who wanted to help me with my art project~?” The green cladded teenager asked smugly.

Michelangelo blushed, hugging a nearby pillow to his face as his muffled laughs echoed around the room, “I-I dihid buhuhut Ihi dihihindn’t know ihit would be soho tihiHICKLY—?! NAHAHEEEK!!! SqueakAHAPRIL NAHAT squeak THEHEHERE!!!” The light scarlet eyed mutant squawked as his sister started to gently scratch at his lower shell with her nails. 

The human raised an innocent brow, her fingernails dancing across the other, “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just tracing your shell to help you think!” 

“PLEHEASE PLEHEASE squeak REEREEHEE!!!” The paint loving turtle squealed, banging his fists in the floor, “OKAHAY OKAHAHAY!! F-FLUHUHUTTERY! IHIT FEEHEELS FLUTTERY!!” He laughed, letting out a sigh of relief as his sister got off of him, writing down the word he basically just screamed. 

“Fluttery…I like it!” The elder mused, going back and tracing the other’s shell with the brush. 

“M-Myhy gaHAHAD squeal Ihi hahate yohou…” The youngest murmured as he buried his face into the pillow more.

April held back an amused laugh, scritching her nails along the mutant’s upper shell, “Hate is a strong word, little buddy. But to refresh your memory, I’m doing a poetry art project so I need you to come up with a few…artsy word’s for me. And besides~: you’re in a mood…so you shouldn’t really be complaining all that much. I get my project done and you get tickled…it’s a win-win!”

Mikey huffed begrudgingly, blushing as his sibling basically just called him out…

The box turtle was a kind soul! A very kind soul in fact! 

So when his dear big sister texted that she needed help with her art project, Michelangelo was more than thrilled to lend a hand.

That was until he was told that April’s class was working on collages…and were given a single word to get inspired by and base their art piece off of how it made them and the people around them feel…

…And you want to know what his sister’s word was…?

Laughter.

“Your soho meeheean…” The youngest groaned loudly through his giggles. 

“I’m not being mean if you like iiiit~!” The elder giggled, causing the box turtle’s blush to deepen, “NO!NOHO TEHEHEEASING!” The younger one squawked, “PRIHILLIE WEEHEE HAD AHA DEEHEEAL!” 

“Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” She said as she scribbled her youngest brother’s hips, “Y'know…I think I can add a couple more words to the list...”

“Whahat ohOTHER wohords?” Mikey asked. 

“Cute, adorable, sweet, lovable—” April listed.

“SHUHUT UHUP SHUHAHA— squeal SHUHUT. IHIT.” The scarlet eyed teen said, kicking his legs more now from underneath the other.

“But you are~!”

“NAHAH— squeak GOHAHA AHA— squeak AWAHAY!!” 

“But I can’t~! I need more words for my collage!” 

“THEHEN THIHINK OHOHOF SOHOME YOHOURSELF YOHOU FOUR EYED MOHOTHER— squeak FUHUHUCKER!!!”

The elder snickered as she lightly traced the sides of her little brother’s ribs, “Woowww…cursing me out…calling me names…it’s almost like you want me to go here…”

The orange banded teen let out a tiny but mighty scream at the new sensation at the back of his ribs, trying to get off of the floor, but alas, was stopped as April sat on the back of his lower shell once again, “YOHOU— SQUEAL!! AHAHAPRIL WEEHEE SQUEAK CAHAN TAHAHALK SQUEAK ABOHOUT THIS SQUEAK PLEHEASE!!” 

“I’m hearing lots of words not having to do with my collage~!” The girl in glasses said in a sing-song voice as she pinched up and down his ribs. “NAHAH— squeak squeal GAHAHAD WHYHYHY?!” The youngest cackled. 

“Because you legit asked me to?” The elder grinned evilly as she started to slowly count every single one of her little brother’s ribs now, “Duh~!”

“E-EEEHEEP! PLAHAHEASE NAHAT THAT NAHAT THAHAT NAHAT THAHAHAT!!!” Michelangelo screamed, hugging his middles as tears of mirth appeared in his eyes. 

“Not what~?”

“OKAHAY! SQUEAL OKAHAHAY!! YOHOHOU SQUEAL CAHAN PUHUT SQUEAK MEHERRY, JOHOHOLLY, FUHUNNY, LIHIHIVELY AHAND SWEEHEET NOHOHOW PLAHAHEASE!!!” The box turtle absolutely squealed. 

“There we go~! See? It wasn’t that hard.” April smirked, patting the other’s shoulder as she got up and added the five words on her paper. “Ihi feeheel lihihike I juhust gohohot bahahack frohom aha war…” Michelangelo groaned as he wiped his eyes to clear the happy tears streaming down his face.

“Oh, you’re fine.” April said as she rolled his eyes fondly, writing down the words Mikey said on the clipboard. The youngest stretched him arms, getting up and peering over the older’s shoulder, “Buhut anywahay’s, hohow mahahany mohore words do yohou need?”

“Five.” The elder said casually.

“FIVE?!” Michelangelo repeated in complete and utter awe, “How many words do yohou freaking neeheed?!”

“Five.” The older repeated, “The number in total was originally supposed to be ten but Mrs. Anderson said if I add one more to the required word count I’d get extra credit.”

“…Why do you always have to pick extra credit?” The orange cladded mutant whined, flopping on his bed as he looked at the ceiling.

“Because why not?” The elder huffed, “Now come over here! I need five more words on how laughter makes you…feel.” She said dramatically, putting a hand over her forehead for a theatrical effect. 

“Yeah, yeah...“ The light scarlet eyed teen uninterestingly said, “But you come over here; I don’t feel like lying on my carpet anymore.”

“Pfft— okay, your majesty.” The glasses wielding human snickered, sitting next to her brother on his bed. And without warning, the smaller teenager wrapped her in a hug from behind with one hand while the other slipped under her shirt and scribbled all over her bare stomach.  

“AUUGH! Y-YOU’RE HAHAHANDS ARE F-FUHUCKING FREEZING!!!” April seethed before bursting out into loud and contagious cackles, “AHHAHA— squeak! WAHAIT! WHAHAT THEHEHE FAHACK!?” She squealed. 

“Aww~! Look at you giggling up a storm~!” The smaller teen smiled, “Your laugh is beyond adorbs, Riri.” 

“STAHAP IHIT! YOHOHOU PEICE AHAHOF— squeal! NOHOH!” The older cried, kicking her legs in an attempt to escape which only caused the youngest to tickle harder. 

The human girl threw her head back; completely lost in her own squeals and shrieks. “Soooooo~! About those words~!” The youngest teased. 

“NAHAHAHAA— YOHOU LIHITTLE BRAHAHAT!!” The green cladded girl shouted. 

“I don’t think 'brat' or 'little' goes with the word 'laughter', Prillie...” Mikey giggled.

Oho revenge was sweet…

…So so sweet.

“YOHOU— hic! STAHAHAP IHIHIT NOHOHOW!!!” The girl in green giggly threatened. 

“No can do, big sis!” The youngest said as innocently as he could, “I need you to tell me how laughing makes you feel~! What do you feel right now~?”

“NO YOHOU— hic GAHAHAH! STAHAP IT— squeak!” April howled, “FIHINE! FLUHUHUTTERY! IHI FEEHEEL FLUHUTTERY!!” 

“I already said that.” The orange themed turtle hummed, getting his hand out of the other’s shirt and squeezing her thigh mercilessly.  

“MIHIHI— hic FAHAHACK— hic! O-OKAHAHAY!! GIHIGGLY?!”

“Four more woooords~?”

“NOOOHOHOH! DUHUHUDE YOHOUHAH— squeal!”

“I can’t stop unless you give me four more words~! Come on, big sis~! Just four more words~!” Michelangelo taunted, using both of his hands to knead the other’s hips. “GYAHAH!!! M-MYHYHY GAHASH!! FIHIHINE! JOHOY?!” The girl offered as she kicked and thrashed.

The younger teen nodded, “Three more~!”

“REEHEELAHAHAXED?!” 

“Two more~!” 

April let out a loud squeal, getting out of the hug as she lightly hit the other on the upside of his head, “Ahand trihiumphant.” She huffed, writing down the four words she said. 

The light scarlet eyed mutant rolled his eyes, looking over her shoulder once more, “How do you feel 'triumphant' when you’re laughing??? That doesn’t even make any sense…”

“Yohou dohon’t mahahake ahany sense.” The girl with glasses retorted as she stuck her tongue out at her little brother; which the little brother in question gladly copied.

Then suddenly and abruptly, Donnie walked into the bedroom, leaning on the doorframe as he knocked on the wall, “Hello, Michael and Prillie. I’ve come to inform you two that Raph has obtained us some rice and peas and jerk chicken for dinner.”

April and Mikey turned their attention to the softshell as he leaned on the doorway, “…Where did Raphie get the food from?” The box turtle asked suspiciously. 

“Oh…well, he and Leo made it.” Donatello grimaced, shrinking slightly as he saw his younger brother’s face start to form in anger, “They cleaned up after themselves— I promise. I supervised.” The light golden eyed mutant assured.

The light scarlet eyed teen rolled his eyes, going over towards his door, “I’ll be the judge of that.” He huffed, going to march towards the door but was halted by April as she gave him the clipboard. “Oh Dee~? Before we go eat, do you mind answering a quick question for me?” The eldest asked innocently.

“Uhm…okay?” The purple banded teenager said as he fully walked into the room, closing the door, “What’s the question?” 

“How does laughing make you…feel?” April asked.

The softshell blinked once in confusion, “…What?”

“How does laughing make you…feel?” Mikey repeated.

“I…don’t understand the question.” Donnie chuckled in amusement, “How does it make me…feel…?” He repeated to himself as he scratched his head, “I…feel joy when I laugh, I suppose.” 

“Anything else?” The girl in glasses emphasized, sneakingly inching her way to her brother as he was deep in thought. “Erm…lively? I do feel quite alive and quite joyous when laughter occurs.” 

“Anything eeeelse?” The chocolate brown eyed teenager drawed out as she scribbled her nails alongside the taller’s sides. Donnie let out a short squeal, flinching back as he hugged his middles.

The one day he left his battleshell in his room…

“Ahahapril doohoo. nahahat.” The taller teen warned, backing away as his sister inched towards him. “Whaaaat~?” She said casually, “I’m just helping.” 

“Tickling meehee ihihis not hehelping meehee thihink ohof ahan answer!” The light golden eyed teen said as if it was obvious, riskily sprinting to the door as his younger brother effortlessly caught him; the two boys basically fighting to the death as Mikey effortlessly pinned the older turtle to the ground, tickling his underarms.

“HEHEH— hic STAHAHA! YOHOU L-LIHIHITTLE SHIHAT!! LEHET MEEHEE GOHOH!!!” The tech loving turtle shouted, squirming from underneath the other.

“Nu-uh! I suffered so now you have to suffer.” The box turtle smiled. 

“AHA— hic! WHAHAT— PFFTAH! DOHOES THAHAHAT EEHEEVEN hic MEAN?!” The taller turtle inquired through his chorus of cackles. 

“Thought of a word to describe how you’re feeling yet, Don?” The eldest asked as she sat next to her two brother’s, grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

“IHIHI’M hic GOHOING hic TOOHOO KIHICK YOHOU GUHUHUYS' ASSES!!!”

“Language, young man!” The box turtle scolded, gently flipping Donnie on his plastron as he scribbled his fingers lightly against his shell. Donatello frantically kicked his legs, banging his fists on the ground as he screeched in laughter.

“GAHAHAD NAHAHAH— hic! PLAHAHEASE!!! WHYHY?!” He wheezed, tears of mirth blurring his vision as he shut his eyes tight. “I-IHIHI FEEHEEL REEHEELAXED!!!”

“Already have that one.” Michelangelo commented. 

“GIHIHI— hic! GIHIHIGGLY! I FEEHEEL GIHIHIGGLY!”

“Already said that one too~!“ 

Donatello wheezed once more, his heels digging into the carpet and his legs flinging around like crazy, “HAHAPPY! I FEEHEEHEEL HAPPY!!! NOW STOHAP STAHAHOP STOHOHOP!!” He cried, letting out a contented sigh as his little brother stopped the assault. 

“I hic cohohome here…toohoo deliver hic news…ahahand thihis is hohow I’m hic being repahaid….” Donnie grumbled through his giggles, huffing and puffing under his breath as Mikey hugged him. 

“And that makes eleven words!” The girl with glasses grinned, writing down the last word on her paper. “Thanks for your help, you too.” 

“Ahanythihing fohor you, Ihi guess.” The softshell said as he rolled his eyes, getting up as his younger brother was still clinged to him, “So…are we going to go eat or…?” The box turtle asked as he hugged his older brother’s arm.

“Yeah, yeah…” April giggled as she clinged to Donnie’s other arm as all three of them walked to the kitchen, linking arms. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[cloudabserk]

more random naruto doodles + astrology signs

[saltseashark]

have YOU ever wanted a small version of the silly little army doctors from hit TV show M*A*S*H?

do YOU have a relative/friend/partner/etc. who got REALLY into 70's television shows all of a sudden and need a holiday present?

PRE-ORDERS ARE OPEN, ending November 30th, 2023 at 12 PM GMT (UTC+0). orders will be shipped around late december to early january.

single-sided full color clear acrylic keychain, with a star hook clasp. choose between margaret and her gays. or all of them im not your dad (despite having the same taste in media as him)

discounted bundles where you can get 2, or the whole set for cheaper are available- email bunnyandamouse@gmail.com with your order number in the subject line and which designs you want for those.

shipping will be added at checkout.

[arianarunspop]

ariana grande in 2022 and 2023

[sailorgrams]

How the Weave Scene actually went

[temeyes]

[OC] fixed (?) Aria's design to something more fitting for dangerous adventures!! [old design here!] if ya wanna check!!