#have segs

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

going absolutely insane thinking of ada pleasuring herself as leon just watches HRNNNGGGFF

you don't say (i didn't proofread this and i was tired and wrote this at like 3am, ooc probably, they're horny, smut)

leon heading home after a long day- just wants to take a shower and fall into bed. it's curious, the way when he walks through the threshold on his front door and can already feel like there's a presence in there.

he stands completely still, his eyes scanning his surroundings and seeing that nothing is out of place. his personal belongings are still scattered in the particular way that he leaves his things, doors in the hallway still ajar, the rug still a bit off centered on the floor from when he rushed out of his place in the morning.

but he knows that something is off- he just can't quite place it, even though it's a familiar feeling

he has the idea to search his home just in case and begins leaning his head into every room while being as quiet as possible

as he approaches his bedroom, the door isn't shut, not like how he usually has it closed before he leaves. it's slightly open, the handle not locked closed but not open either. leaning his ear to the wood of the door, it's clear someone is on the other side.

his home had security, enough to stop most people from breaking in but not from anyone who was skilled enough in lock picking or slipping through the cracks. for all he knew they could've slid in when he was leaving

he grows curiouser and curiouser at the sounds, trying to decipher what it was exactly he was hearing- his mind runs a mile a minute wondering if he was imaging things

nudging the door open, the hinges were quiet- thankfully he had fixed them so they didn't have a horrible squeak when it opens anymore.

the sounds are louder, perhaps more lewd, his assumptions are confirmed when he notices a pair of tall heels left on the floor near his bedroom door. then a thin pair of panties left not so innocently a few inches away. he shouldn't- but he plucks the pick of elastic and lace and feels the texture of the soft fabric in his fingers. they're slightly damp, and warm- he's annoyed at the feeling of blood rushing in between his legs

his presence has been detected by her, her audible hum letting him know of this. but she doesn't seem to stop, the sounds of her shifting on the bed and splaying out on his sheets already paints a picture of what she's doing. he has split seconds to imagine it before he's hit with the real thing

continuing further into his bedroom, he sees the edge of his bed, his eyes lazily trail upward- seeing her legs spread and her fingers buried between her legs. she's half dressed, her eyes half lidded as well and a sweet saccharine grin stuck on her face

"well what do we have here?"

"you were late- didn't want to wait anymore-"

his body relaxed, the tension in his shoulders released and his chest shuddering with a deep breath. he's fixated at the sight between her legs, the bits of fabrics twisted around her body and the disheveled look of her on his bed.

he doesn't pounce on her immediately, he takes his time, the loud metal of his belt buckle announcing his intentions since she'd clearly already started without him

"are you angry with me?" her fingers cease their movements, her head cocking to the side with her question.

"well what am i supposed to do with you hm?"

"what if i am?"

"are you going to do anything about it? agent kennedy?"

she shuffles herself towards his headboard, her legs timidly pressing together as if she wasn't soaked between her thighs.

the loud leather of his belt is whipped through the loops of his pants, the button and zip of his jeans following as his knees make contact with the edge of the bed.

"what do you want me to do about it?"

they're only inches apart, his lips hovering over hers, his eyes flickering between her eyes and catching her hand raising to pressed her soaked appendages against his bottom lip. she drags her fingers there, letting him taste her on his tongue.

"don't keep me waiting-" she purs against his lips, the soft scent of her cherry lip colour is pressed against his cheek. her hot breath fanning against his ear and sending shivers down his spine and stirring up the feeling of arousal between his legs.

the sides of her lips curl, satisfied with what she feels as her fingers slide against the elastic of his underwear and dips underneath to grasp at him.

"looks like I don't have to wait at all-"

[starscelly]

don’t call it a comeback, he’s been here for years !!

or, segs set to “mama said knock you out” by ll cool j

[solmelo]

A little fanart I made of George and Paul When I learned how parallel their friendship is to me and my bff, I can't stop loving them

I have a bff who I've known since primary school. She's 8 months older than me, born on June, and I was born on February the next year. We became friends because of same hobbies and interests. We had a friend group, then she introduced me to her new friend group and so on. we didn't even notice how parallel our friendship was to Paul and George because we didn't know the Beatles lore until we were in our late teens xD

It saddens me that this fandom forgets that George was Paul's original best friend and Paul was George's too. It's always Paul and John, and George and Ringo. Even at the end, George told Paul that he smelt like home. Because that really is how a childhood friend smells like! Maybe it did hurt George too that over the years they lost the bond that they shared. But at the end, a childhood friend really is different. And I WOULD spend the last days of my life with my childhood friend too.

Istg I've formed friendships too in my late teens/adult years but a childhood friend has a very very different and special place in your memories and heart. It's unexplainable!

[dogboy-dyke]

messing around with my shock collar

hope you like the sound of butches whimpering in pain :3

[princematcha]

shouto todoroki x reader || wc: 2k

cw: no pronouns for reader but in a dress, 1 mention of drugs (a joint), alcohol, everyone’s a little tipsy, sfw

pls no minors or ageless blogs

You’ve kissed Shouto, once. 

If anyone asked, you would say no. That they’re wrong, he’s been one of your closest friends for forever. You’ve never thought about him like that when your other friends want to hear something “hot,” oh my god, he’s your friend. 

You’ve never looked a little too long at the skin of his abdomen that peeks out when he takes off a sweater and his shirt rides up. Never woken up before him after falling asleep next to each other, and just admire him.

(You’ve gotten used to not looking at his face too much. He once adjusted his hair over his left eye when you were smoking together and you were staring at him. You asked him what was wrong and he asked if he had anything on his face as he took the joint from your hand. Shouto swallowed hard when you told him he was heartbreakingly pretty, his adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced around your face. 

Sober you apologized. 

Shouto still angles himself in his interviews, right side facing the cameras.)

Never known the feeling of his chest to yours as you breathe heavy breaths into each other’s mouths.

–it was New Year’s Eve.

//cut//

Your head hurt. You couldn’t remember if you hit it, or if it was because you smoked half a cigarette on the balcony with your friends after quitting cold turkey half a year earlier. Standing in your and Shouto’s kitchen in the way too nice apartment, you filled a glass at the sink. There���s a pitcher in the fridge, but you just downed two shots and there was already a glass rim down by the sink.

You turned around as Shouto rounded the corner to see you gulping water.

“Hello.”

You lifted a hand off of the counter to wave to him. He watched in silence as you finished the cup. You teetered back and forth on the heated marble floors, then slouched against the crowded counter.

Shouto was wearing a dark grey suit, blazer thrown over his arm. The off-white button-up underneath was rumpled by the collar and around his waist, partially untucked from his pants. Cufflinks you helped him choose and put on: gone; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

He shrugged and leaned onto the archway next to the fridge. Messing with a picture of the two from a purikura on a boardwalk, “Why? Need me gone?”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, always want you here.”

He glanced at you.

Sliding your glass across the counter until it hits a cheese platter one of your friends brought, you looked down at his mismatched socks, “I thought you had a hero thing. Fancy party with,” you picked up an empty bottle of overly sweet wine with a celebrity printed across the front, “fancy food.”

Shouto huffed, a small dimple on his left cheek showing itself, “Who needs fancy food when I’ve got this at home.” He ran his eyes back and forth the counter as he stepped closer, getting stuck on you twice. “They didn’t have any konbini mochi there.”

You laughed when he shook the room-temperature sakura mochi at you, Shouto giving a small smile at yours.

“What about your friends? People you actually like?” You joked. When you asked him if you could host a small get-together for New Years and told him who would be coming, his face stayed purposely flat. Your friends were a lot when you were able to wrangle them into one place.

His head tilted, “I like you.”

“I know you do.” His smile dropped a touch, goosebumps rose up your bare legs, a chill suddenly in the air, “It would be weirder if you didn’t.”

Shouto stared into you like the time you came home with tears in your eyes after your partner broke up with you and suddenly you felt as if you said something wrong.

“You know because– we, uh, live together.” Words fell out of your mouth like water between your teeth. “And we’re-”

The glass door to the balcony slid open and one of your friends came ambling through, yelling Shouto’s last name the minute she saw him, inviting him out for a drink.

You smiled up at him, ready to be free from that look.

“You comin'?”

Making Shouto play drinking games was much easier than you anticipated, though no one was prepared for how horribly good he was at every single one of them. 

After the third game of beer pong with the other side of the table left with one solo cup, and your shared side missing just one cup, you hip-bumped him out of the way when it was his turn. 

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”

You saw him look down at you in your peripheral vision as you aimed your throw, the world shifted and wobbled before you. 

“You asked me to come out here,” Shouto says. 

Your friend loosely ushered you back telepathically, her quirk tired and unfocused. “Too close,” she muttered, “Rules.”

“I thought we were going to play a game, not demolish my friends with no mercy.” You threw the ping-pong ball. 

It bounces once on the table and then rolls off to the side. Your friends cheered, hugging each other in great celebration.

“Are you not having fun?” Shouto’s mouth is much closer to your ear than you were prepared for, warm breath running over your ear and neck. You find yourself staring as he stands back up to his full height.

Your eyes dashed between his. “I’m, yeah, of course.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to say more, but a door slammed open, shouts of how the countdown is soon. 

You gazed out over the balcony, Tokyo feeling crackly and alive. People in the streets with their heads pointed up to see the fireworks that would shortly fill the night sky. 

“Do you remember when I spent a few months in the States?” Shouto asks after all of your friends shuffle inside. 

You stared at your hand as your eyes unfocused, half of it disappearing for the glowing building behind it. “I don’t think I could forget Shou, could’ve bought out half of Japan with the international phone bills.” You smiled at him to show you were joking. 

He blinked at you slowly like a sleepy cat. 

“You celebrated with your family that year.” You nodded as he spoke. 

Shouto celebrated in the States; alone. “I meant to call you back the next-”

“You were there when it mattered.”

You turned to him, your back to the city. He was staring at you, but you weren’t sure if he ever really looked away from you. There’s a serene look on his face that makes you want to ask him anything, everything. Questions you’ve already asked, questions that roll into your brain when you’re bored, questions you can only ask in dreams. 

Why he texted you every morning and every night when he was across the world. Why he shares an apartment with you that he could afford a dozen of. Why he was standing right in front of you looking like he could-

“There’s a, ah, tradition they have,” he rubbed his palm on his slacks, “Back there. In the states.”

He stares at the air over your head as you wait for him to continue, you like hearing about his travels, his thoughts. “At the end of the countdown. They kiss someone.”

Your thoughts stalled, “Oh.”

“For good luck.”

“Ah.” Your eyes betrayed you as your focus darted down to his mouth. Lips parted, a small cut running over his bottom lip from a fight he was in the other day. The cold always makes them a tint darker, you suspected he wore lipstick for a bit in high school. “Did you-?”

Shouto watched your gaze bounce down and up. “No.” 

“Cool.” You found yourself interested in a hair that fell on his shoulder. “Sorry.” What? Is going on. 

“Your dress.” He suddenly said, walking towards you with determination in his eye. 

You glanced down and saw a strap was falling, moving to push it up and thank him, but his hand met your shoulder before you could. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Shouto’s palm didn’t leave your shoulder, warm fingers playing with the fabric of the thin strap. Skin soft on yours. 

He smelt like mint. And tea. You accidentally took too deep of a breath, head dizzy with the smell of him; you leaned against his chest. Shouto didn’t say anything, his heartbeat raced against your head, his firm chest stilled. 

“I thought about you every day.”

“Me too,” you spoke into his shirt.

“I, still, think about you every day.”

You looked up at him. “You see me every day?” 

“Not enough.” He gazed directly into your eyes, and the feeling dripped over you like warmed honey. You wrapped a finger around one of his belt loops, readying a question in your mind. 

“Ten!” 

The shout of your friends inside made you jump, Shouto smiled as he slid his hand from your shoulder over your neck and onto your cheek. 

“I’ve thought about this-”

“Nine!”

“About you,”

“Eight!”

“For so long.”

“Seven!”

“About what?” You asked. You knew, you think. You always knew, but you just- you just need to hear it. 

“Six!”

His thumb traced your bottom lip, eyes shamelessly glued to your mouth. 

“Five!”

“This.” He said. And brought his nose to yours, pressing them together. 

“Four!” 

His breath was cold as he breathed into your mouth, the air sticking to your tongue. 

“Three!”

“Can I,” Shouto’s top lip brushed yours as he asked, “kiss you?”

“Two!”

You nodded against his cheek, your hand against the buttons of his shirt, “Yes.”

“One!”

“Please.”

“Happy New Year!”

His mouth melded against yours like that was where he was supposed to be his whole life, so, so softly. Your eyes fluttered close as fireworks littered the sky, the loud popping nowhere to be in your mind. 

Shouto tasted like the strawberry soju you keep in a high cabinet as his tongue ran over yours, one of his hands gripping your waist for life. You met each other at every breath, slow and heated movement. Not wanting to be apart longer than necessary. 

His chest pressed against yours as he walked you back towards the balcony railing, your back pressed against the cold stone. It didn’t matter as Shouto ran a hot hand over your collarbone, a warm feeling sizzling in your gut. 

The sound of glass breaking woke you though. An ice bath for your warm gooey mind. 

You pushed him back suddenly, eyes wild and looking everywhere but him. What were you thinking? He’s drunk. He probably doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

You were drunk too, but why would you think about yourself?

You don’t know what face he was making. You don’t want to know what face Shouto was making. 

“Sorry.” You turned to help your friend with the champagne glass she dropped. 

//cut//

(When you woke up, it was with another brutal headache. Shouto brought you a hot drink in bed and asked if you remembered last night. You said yes. 

For a moment he looked mortified. 

You were embarrassed. 

You told him you remembered that he came back, but not much after that. You’re not sure if he could tell if you were lying. You’re not sure if it matters.)

You glance at your phone for any new messages. 

Just a text from your boss about a deadline on friday. 

“I just can’t believe it.”

“Hmm?” You look up at Ayame sitting across from you. Your friend wanted a recovery brunch from the drinking this weekend. 

“I mean you live with him, you’re telling me you didn’t know?”

You shrug, glancing at the gossip paper sitting on the table next to yours. “I try not to pry.”

“You never saw her come over?”

Reading over the headline, you feel tears building at the back of your eyes but you hold your breath. “I don’t know. Maybe just, like-”

10 January 20XX

       New Beau for Top 30 under 30 Pro-Hero Shouto?

“I don’t know.”

A cover photo of Shouto leaving a restaurant with a woman, smiling down at her; the ink buries itself into your mind. 

Ayame sighs, “Damn, I could’ve sworn I saw something between you at the party. You sure nothing happened?”

You rub your eye and stare at the bubbles fizzing up in your drink, “No. Nothing happened.”

[dogwittaablog]

are there any other nhl players that you like besides nolpats that you enjoy as a player or find them attractive??

There are a few...

Brock Boeser honestly I never really cared much for him or his looks but its the fact you can tell he's a genuine sweet heart that makes me fuck with him... Also love what hes been doing for the Canucks have been seeing him thrive throughout the games I've watched.

Vince Dunn heard he's problematic but ong he seems like such a fun time lmao.

Matt Rempe has grown on me I think I'm just a sucker for big ass dudes... and hands... I can't forget the hands... seems like an actual softy.

Connor Dewar is handsome as hell... simple as that.

Tyler Seguin I gotta throw him in there because I got to pay homage to the OG man candy of my adolescence.

[mattatouile]

not enough people in the outside world understand that tyler seguin is THE manic pixie dreamgirl of the nhl.

yes in all the best ways.

but also in all the most annoying ways.

it's why he's the best.

[candysharkart]

the oc i said i would post and. another one. what you didnt want trolls? yes you did (he/him for both)

the very eldest of the troll kids, merlot, segnot and donzon’s very expensive clone baby who sucks

and the very youngest of troll kids, murdok, segnot and belzub’s very accidental baby who is the anti-christ (real!)

[nicohischier]

lets talk about tyler seguin brainrot because like he had triumph and tragedy very early on and then he was the party boy who everybody wagged their finger at and then once he finally decide to settle down and take everything seriously the guy hes soulbound himself to in the early days went the opposite of growth and turned into a asshole werido so now HE's suppose to be the adult who drags them to success

man are you the same person who asked me about the nolpat brain rot and the mtkachuk brain rot or are there just multiple people on this website that like seeing me spiral via essay? but yeah okay i can do segs brain rot. and i won't even write an essay this time. mostly. i lied.

but yeah okay. tyler drafted 2nd overall in 2010 to the bruins, a team that only had that pick because they got it from toronto. in reality, the bruins never should have picked that high because they had just come off a season where they made it to the second round of playoffs. of the top 15 picks in that draft, he had the best chance of winning a cup soon. and he did. 74 games in the season, 13 games in playoffs, a seven game finals series, and a stanley cup ring. then two more seasons under his belt, and he even made it back to the finals in 2013, but they lost six to chicago. and then things started to fall apart. boston trades him to dallas and the rumours and speculations follow him, saying he would rather party than practice and doubting his dedication to his team and it's just a really bad look when a team dumps a SOA after only three years, after winning a cup with him, after making it to the finals twice with him. bad look. but it's okay. he comes to dallas and the team help him build a home here and he finds a best friend in this guy who is about to become his captain too. something in dallas clearly clicked a switch in his brain, because he started playing beautiful hockey and his name and jamies are being tossed around together like crosby and malkin, and kane and toews, and ovechkin and backstrom. they were supposed to be winners together. supposed to make history, together. but dallas isn't like boston and they don't win immediately but it's fine because they're building something great still and tyler is willing to wait for that. he wants to win here too. he grows into himself as a person and as a leader and he eventually gets an A and he looks after rookies on and off the ice and he helps them avoid the same mistakes he made when he was just a kid with too much money and the world at his fingertips and dallas stars getting better and making deeper runs and then its 2020 and hes finally back. tyler seguin and the stanley cup finals meet once again. and tyler is the guy they're turning to for advice because he's the only guy who has been to the finals more than once in his career and he has a cup and there's not many other guys on the team who have that either. and they lose in six. and now its 2023 and a lot has changed. aside from jamie, he's been on the team the longest. and it's game three of the western conference finals and the captain just took a stupid penalty and got himself ejected from the game and everything falls apart again. the game goes to shit and they're down 3-0 in the series and jamie is suspended for two games but. but. they win those two games. they win and they win and then jamie is back and. they lose. 6-0. and his season ends in may.

[starscelly]

"hey!"

stl@dal 10.12.23

[freebooter4ever]

the three players i associate with you = geno + larionov + breadman! (you have a thing for russians too haha)

LOL but also probably valid. :P

[homochihuahua]

Jaydick the Bob's burger au

Jason as Bob and Dick as Linda. A struggling business owners and a loving couple. Where Jason has a moustache.

Jason is a very good cook, apparently that's not the only thing you need to run a good restaurant. Dick Grayson, his husband, is a retired gold medalist gymnast. His retirement came due to an injury, and now he works part-time as trainer while also helping in his husband's business. Roy Harper, a long life friend of both Dick and Jason, lives and works with them with his daughter lian.

The rest of the kids can be Dick's siblings after Bruce has for some reason left the responsibility on Dick after disappearing to God knows where. Or they are spending sometime with their brother and his husband as punishment looool.

The thing is Jason could leave all of this behind. He has his own English literature degree, plus a good culinary backgrounds. Dick can open his own gym. Roy will work anything for Lian's sake, and it's not like they are going to leave him behind. But, this thing, this run down restaurant, was both of Jason and Catherine's dream to grow and successed. If not for the poverty, abuse and the drugs that had infested their family it might have worked. And Jason cannot let go of it. No matter how much he tries.

Dick loves him so much and has never, not even once, been judgemental or doubtful of Jason, On the contrary, he was the first person to actually support Jason in his pursuit of his and his mom's dream. Even though he doesn't know shit about cooking or running down businesses lol.

Imagine all their adventures as one family that takes to life with love, understanding and sympathy. With a special episode of yours truly Alfred Pennyworth coming with all of the judgment of a grandfather whom his granddaughter married a poor no name man, only for him to kin that man as his own child.

[boop-le-snoot]

GOOD FUCKING MORNING

[ouellette]

hello beloved mutuals i am at work again

[hippo-pot]

Successfully sent an email to one pen pal (hadn't written him since March) and started crying immediately, i think because i just. feel awful