#i hope this okay for you anon!

[felicitykings]

Kid Blink & Racetrack dancing with Medda (requested by anonymous)

NEWSIES (1992) dir. kenny ortega

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

[nataliescatorccio]

LUCY GRAY BAIRD'S RAINBOW DRESS The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (2023) Costume Design: Trish Summerville

[typing-catastrophe]

could you write a stanford pines x reader headcanon where the reader is an artist and always draws him and draws in his journals when he isnt looking? maybe he talks to the reader about the drawings and they get really flustered i dunno!!! <3

oohhh! yeesss, that's a great idea! thank you anon ^^ hope this is okay, enjoy!

1.2k words, no warnings --------------------------------------------------

Your little habit started out even before Stanford came back. Dipper saw you sketching in your notebook from time to time, and asked you to draw something for him in the journal. He handed it to you and pointed next to a text he'd written about some anomaly (maybe a Manotaur or the Pterodactyl). First you were unsure, how would you feel if someone randomly decided to draw in your sketchbook? But it actually seemed really fun, and you didn't want to disappoint Dipper. Also it was in the spirit of research and preserving observations. And honestly, what were the odds the mysterious author would ever show up again?

With that attitude you began, whenever you got the chance to, to doodle yours and the twins encounters with the countless strange phenomena in gravity falls into the journal.

Well, oops? Seemed like the universe decided that not long after you started doing so, it was the right time for the author to come back.

It wasn't a big deal really, Dipper kept the journal for most of the time and Ford told him that he liked the additions he made. You weren't sure if he only meant the notes Dipper added, or if he even knew that someone else drew the newly added creatures.

It didn't take long for you and Ford to get to know each other better and spend more time together. Literally everything about him was just so fascinating. From the way he talked about his dimensional travels, anomaly hunts and research, his interest in a shared hobby of yours (dd&md), to the way he held himself. And, even if you were a bit embarrassed to admit it, his looks.

You couldn't help it, he was captivating. So to no surprise, one day you found yourself sitting on the shack's porch, looking over at Ford standing in the yard, working away at something that was too bulky for the basement. You didn't even realise what you were doing until something startled you out of your thoughts and you looked down at your sketchbook, seeing a familiar figure on the open page.

And then it happened again, in the lab. He was explaining away, deeply invested in whatever topic he was rambling about, not really taking in his surroundings. You had started out just sketching his study, but somehow he turned out to be the main focus of it.

One evening you found yourself in the living room of the shack. Ford was sitting on the floor, which was almost entirely covered in graph paper. You had joined him while he prepared the next campaign session, the tv quietly proving some background noise. While he was franticly scribbling away sheet after sheet, you propped open your notebook and began sketching some of the characters that came to your mind. Ford's, Dipper's and your characters and some npcs you encountered on your travels. But looming over all of them, half hidden behind the dm-screen, the scheming face of the man before you took his shape.

The end of the evening was rather blurry, you remembered falling asleep on the floor and being carried to bed, half asleep in someone's arms.

"hmm thank you", is all you could mumble when you felt the soft pillow under your head.

"No problem, dear", you heard a deep voice chuckle.

-

When you thought about it the next morning, a smile crept unto your face and you kinda wished, you would've been more awake, so you could've enjoyed the moment properly.

The smile was quickly wiped off though, when you realised that you must've left your sketchbook in the living room, given that Ford probably didn't bring it with him last night. You panicked and jumped out of bed, stumbling to the door when your gaze was caught by something. Your sketchbook, laying on your desk. You exhaled, glad it didn't lay around for anyone to see. You took it into your hands and opened it to the last page you were working on. But instead of the drawing from yesterday evening, only the one before that stared back at you. Confused, you turned the pages a few times, examined it, maybe someone ripped it out? No, no remnants of a torn out page....

Then, it dawned on you. You left your notebook in your room yesterday. You didn't plan on staying or even going to the living room. God knows how you ended up there, but it definitely was without your sketchbook. Which could only mean one thing...

In record time you were out the door, down the hall and in the living room. Right in time to take in the scenery of Ford staring down at his campaign notebook, opened to the page of your drawing.

"Ahh!! No no don't look!", you jumped forward and put your hands over the drawing. Ford furrowed his eyebrows, looking quite puzzled.

"This? Oh I already saw it last night after getting you to bed. It is incredible!"

Your cheeks heated up. "Oh" was all you could utter.

"It was also you who added the depictions of the twin's adventures, right?"

"Uhmm" You didn't keep your passion for drawing a secret, but you also didn't make a big deal out of it. And honestly, the way Ford was always so indulged in his own mind, you didn't think he was paying much attention to what you were doing. Now you felt a bit stupid for believing he wouldn't connect the - admittedly - obvious dots.

"They really are marvellous. And this?", he gestured to yesterdays page "Truly phenomenal!"

You didn't know what to say. You weren't even sure if you could say anything at all. All you felt was blood rushing to the tips of your ears and a flaming hot sensation in your cheeks.

"I- well uhm, thank you", you managed to stutter "I uh, I actually didn't mean to- uhm, use your campaign book. It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

"You've got to be joking! It's the perfect addition!" Ford exclaimed. "Do you mind if I keep it?"

"Oh", his enthusiasm caught you off guard. "I-, I guess not. Actually, that would mean a lot to me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Very well then! Thank you, dear." He looked at you with a fond expression.

You were about to retreat back to your room, turning around ready to leave, when Ford spoke up again, the smile apparent in his voice. "I also liked your artistic rendition of the twins adventures. Anything else you want to show me?" You froze.

Your heart started beating ridiculously fast. Did he knew? Did he notice you staring at him while drawing? Your thoughts started racing, but came to a sudden halt when he leaned down. His lips were almost touching your ear when he started to whisper.

"Maybe another time." And with that he walked by you, leaving you to yourself.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

a/n: if you want a second part with romance and/or where ford discovers the drawings of him, let me know! Have a nice day/night!

[yayll]

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~

Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.

"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."

You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.

"What is it?"

"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"

A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.

"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.

You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.

"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."

"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."

He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.

You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.

"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"

He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.

"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."

He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.

"Sit, please."

You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.

Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.

When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.

"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.

You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.

"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."

He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.

"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.

"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.

"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."

Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.

"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."

He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.

"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"

He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.

"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."

Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.

"Every single night after?"

"Every. Single. Night. After..."

"As if we were together?"

"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.

Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.

His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.

"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."

"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.

"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"

You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.

"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."

He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours

"... I know you would. You always do."

You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.

"Do you know something I don't?"

He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.

"I know everything, silly.~"

The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.

[taintandviolent]

From smut prompts can you do a combo of 2 and 57 for Remy Lebeau x female!Reader?

Love your writing and can’t wait for part 2 of Taco tuesday!

warnings: smut (doggy-style), dirty talk, uhhhhhh i dunno what else. mirror sex? yeah.

His groans are more frequent, breathing ragged. Suddenly, he reaches around to your face, his strong hand gripping your jaw, straightening your head gently. Your eyes are still closed, painfully heavy with arousal. He’s fucked you senseless, and without his current support, you can barely hold your head up. 

“Look at your reflection, cher.” he murmurs. His voice is sultry, laden with arousal and you peel your lids back, swallowing hard. You’re suddenly faced with your own reflection; the mirror on the back of your door. It’s parallel to your bed, and until right then, you somehow forgot that. To Remy, it had been an intentional, calculated move. The position you two were currently in was one that felt impersonal to him sometimes, but because you had a mirror, he still got to enjoy all the subtle nuances of your arousal, and the way you responded to his body.

Doing it doggy-style, you’re on your knees and elbows, and Remy is tall behind you, all brawn. Your eyes flit to your own image somewhat apprehensive, for no man has ever made you look at yourself during sex and you’re not sure what you’re about to find. To your surprise, it’s not embarrassing, nor is it something that kills your high. 

The way the light filters in from your bedroom window casts you in a dreamy yellow haze, flushing your skin with a light glow. Your gaze is lust blown, your cheeks are flushed, your ample cleaveage is rocking back and forth with the force of his movements, and your hair mussed up from where he’d been holding onto it. He thrusts his hips into you once, hard, and your expression contorts into one of pleasure, body shuddering against the action. Seeing it in the mirror is a new experience, but the visual turns you on even more. If you were going to be honest with yourself, you were hot.  

You grip the sheets, making fists in the fabric as Remy hammers into you. Your jaw drops, and a low, erotic moan of pleasure tumbles out over your flushed lips. He, too, looks so good – the way his handsome features look almost tormented with pleasure, the way he’s moving against you, his muscles rippling with each exertion. 

“Look at how gorgeous you are.” He continues, his words choppy from the power of his thrusts. Despite that, his voice is deep and commanding, and he holds your hips, using them as leverage for his thrusts. “So gorgeous when I’m fuckin’ you like ‘dis. So pretty for me, and only for me, huh?”

You’re only able to moan in response as the sensations overwhelm you. He’s hitting all the right spots, taking you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 

“Ain’t ‘dat right, cher?” He urges, watching you in the mirror. You nod, breathlessly. He cocks a languid, half-smile; pleased that you’re appreciating yourself, even a little bit. If you saw yourself through his eyes… 

He suddenly leans forward, pressing his toned stomach against your back, and urging himself farther inside of you. His voice, when he speaks, is husky and low, almost a growl. 

“I ain’t sharin’ you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and Remy gonna’ make you remember ‘dat.”.

The way he fucks you then is ruthless, staying true to his previous claim. His hips hammer into yours, cock bullying your cunt with reckless abandon. Your arousal climbs higher, and higher until it reaches a peak; you can’t hold it back any longer Your eyes fly open again, brows pulled together in tortured lust, as the coil snaps and you collapse the front half of your body forward, soaking him and arching your back up until it aches.

Remy’s close behind you, but his stamina is better than yours. Another new experience; men usually come first (too quickly, at that), but not him. He’s got you in ten different positions, three orgasms deep before he paints your insides. 

“Ah, cher… c’mere.”

[onismdaydream]

Way too close boy best friend denji 😋

You guys are just really good friends and you've known each other since forever and you guys are just affectionate like that ☹️

HIII ANON <333 i love this idea :(( and i have officially caught up with the manga so i can at least write some thoughts down hehe

there's a familiarity between the two of you that other people just don't get. they don't understand why you're so comfortable sitting on denji's lap when there's an open seat right next to him, or why you wipe food from the corner of his mouth and then lick your thumb clean, or why his hands are always on you especially when your boyfriend is right there! and no matter how many times you say "oh, it's just denji though! we're just beat friends!", people always look at you with such doubt.

and it's not like you haven't thought about denji in that way before, i mean... look at him! he's so cute and he's actually funny and maybe you get those little butterflies when his hands rest on your waist like they were made to fit there and maybe you catch yourself staring at his chest when you go swimming but that's just because you love him, totally and completely platonically!!

and yeah, maybe denji also thinks about you and how soft you are when he's alone in his room, how you actually like spending time with him when so many others seem to only like him for their own gain, how your body seems to mold against his perfectly when you cuddle during shitty movie marathons. but it's just because the two of you are such good friends!

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

Rory Gilmore and Jess Mariano wearing red in The Bracebridge Dinner (x)

[harbingersglory]

Hello, could I have transfem Signora x fem!reader smut? Any scenario is fine, just need dom Signora railing me 😩

{☆} characters la signora {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, dom la signora, transfem la signora {☆} warnings 18+ content, restraints, temperature play, face fucking, degradation, pet play

There's a moment of silence that lingers for far too long, the cold nipping at your exposed skin until you feel shivers wrack your body. You squirm instinctively, seeking out the fading warmth of the thick furs laid out beneath you, yet finding nothing but the cold that chills you to your bones. You can't even see, your eyes covered by black fabric, silk tying your arms together behind your back.

It's almost torturous waiting like this. Your knees sink further into the fur as you lean your weight forward slightly, exhaling a shaky breath. You begin to wonder if Signora left you there– maybe you'd annoyed her earlier and she was punishing you. You hoped not. She wasn't known for being lenient when it came to punishments.

But the brush of her fingers along your jawline squashed that fear, your breath hitching as her thumb glided over your throat, the heat of her skin making you shudder. The contrast of the cold room, of your freezing body, to the unnatural heat that simmers beneath her skin is immense– your knees would have definitely buckled if you hadn't been kneeling already.

"Did you think I'd left you here all alone? You're shaking like a dog." The soft, biting lilt was nothing more than a murmur, but for you it was impossible not to hear the pleased tone beneath the roughness of her voice. Your heart leaps into your throat when her fingers trace back up along your jawline, lifting your head and tilting it back just enough to be uncomfortable.

You open your mouth to speak, but your words are silenced by her thumb slipping past your lips instead– you don't fight back, even though the sudden intrusion catches you off guard enough you almost bite her finger instead. You almost consider doing it anyway, but she's so rarely in a good mood it feels rude to spoil it.

"Pets don't speak until they're told," She chides, pressing down on your tongue slightly and laughing at the way you almost choke in surprise. "And I don't remember giving you permission."

You can only manage a garbled whine in response, your face burning in embarrassment– but it's quickly silenced by the click of her tongue and the creak of the old chair you know sits by the fireplace, her thumb sliding out between your lips to drag you closer. Close enough to feel the rush of heat across your skin as your cheek is pressed against her thigh, her hands resting on the back of your head. You can't see it, but you sure can imagine the smug smile that must be tugging at her lips right about now.

"Let's see about fixing your little disobedient streak, darling." She murmurs, digging her nails into your scalp and tugging you even closer, the furs beneath you doing little to prevent the ache in your knees from kneeling. But you don't complain– you know what she wants, and you want it too. "Open."

Like the dog she seems so fond of treating you as, you listen– you're not as surprised this time when her fingers fill your mouth, forcing it open even further until you can feel the saliva collecting and dribbling down your chin. She doesn't seem to mind, even laughing at how pitiful you probably look, drooling all over her fingers.

But Signora is a hard woman to satisfy, and this will hardly do anything other then work her up enough to really break you in. You can just barely hear the rustle of fabric over your heartbeat, gloved hands tugging you closer and forcing you to press right up against the edge of the chair. It's almost uncomfortable, the way the chair presses against your chest, but she always has you teetering on that fine edge.

"Perhaps you can be trained after all." Signora's voice is like a balm, the heat of her body driving away the cold and urging you impossibly closer, until you feel her hand guide you down just as her fingers slip out of your mouth again– right up until you feel her cock against your cheek. "Show me that you can be obedient, mutt, and maybe I'll let you sit on my lap."

You know she's just dangling a treat just out of reach, but you can't help but reach for it anyway.

Your tongue drags across the underside of her cock, so slow you can hear the hiss that rattles in her chest halfway between pleasure and impatience. You take your time anyway, lingering until you reach the tip and press a kiss against it. You almost wish you could see her face, but she's never been fond of expressing anything outwardly when you can see it– just the idea of her brows furrowed, of her face flush and her lip caught between her teeth..it's enough.

It's not hard to imagine it anyway when the heat grows hotter, nearly turning the room into an oven before she catches herself. You aren't stupid enough to mention it, but your smile must be enough, because a low growl makes you shiver– so you drag your tongue from the base to the tip again, revel in the way it throbs beneath your tongue. For a moment you almost have something like control, your saliva dripping down her aching cock as you lap at it like a mutt.

But you're both growing impatient– the sharp click of her nails against the chairs arms makes you shudder, urging you to lift yourself up just enough to wrap your lips around the head with a muffled groan. You consider dragging it out just a moment longer, just to see if you can get her to whine, but she knows you better then you do– before you can even blink, her hand shoves you down. You, predictably, gag. Your throat burns from the stretch, but it's not unpleasant, eased by the pleasured hiss that tumbles from her lips. Signora at least has the mercy to let you get used to it for a moment before she drags you back up, the emptiness in your throat making you whine before she's shoving her cock back down your throat. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, your own sounds of pleasure muffled and garbled as she does it again– and again.

"Finally quiet, mutt?" She laughs, but it's strained– her voice quivers slightly as she fucks your throat like your nothing but a toy to her, drool dribbling down your chin and tears staining the blindfold. "If I knew it was this easy to shut you up, I'd have done it a long time ago."

You so badly want to do something, but with your hands tied behind your back and her fucking your face so rough, so fast, you can barely even think..there's not much you can do but let her, your cunt clenching around nothing. You really hope she wasn't lying about that reward, for once. You're practically dripping on her floor while she uses you, just barely able to squeeze your thighs together for a fraction of friction.

It only serves to make you more desperate, though.

"Fuck– or maybe you're too stupid to know better. You'd just let any pretty woman with a cock use you," Her breathing was getting heavier, more strained, but her grip on your hair didn't relent. Neither did the harsh thrust of her hips, her cock constantly hammering into your throat until you felt dizzy. "You're lucky I'm even willing to train a mutt like you."

Your mind starts to feel fuzzy, the words blending together until she digs her nails into your scalp and forces you down again– and keeps you there. You nearly gag again when you feel her shudder, her cock throbbing in your mouth as her cum spills down your throat, your hands straining against the silk binding them together. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, nostrils flaring and your body tensing– you don't even realize you'd briefly lost consciousness until your find yourself on her lap, rather then on your knees, her hands brushing the strands of hair stuck to your face with sweat out of your eyes.

It's the most gentle she's been all night– and likely as gently as she will be tonight. You lean into her touch anyway, groaning softly and shuddering at the taste of her on your tongue mixed with her cock throbbing against your thigh.

"I'm not done yet, darling. Did you think I'd let you get away with a little light training?" She laughs, cupping your jaw and pressing a kiss that's far too gentle to your cheek, the warmth of her body almost suffocating– but you welcome it, like you always do.

So you nod, smiling drowsily and spreading your legs like a good pet should.

[melonpaya]

If you still do request, can you draw timeskip!Luz having a nosebleed and that kind of reactions over timeskip!Amity casually flexing her bicep in her tanktop

Would be even funnier if Lilith was there like “Luz are you okay?” Cus she is acearo

she gay as hell

[shkika]

I'm curious if at some point you'd ever make a V2/W2, but even if you don't: I love your little bug so much, I wanna hug the critter because it deserves the love and affection <3. (I hope you feel better soon, by the way!!!)

Like treasure <3

Anyway sure! This isn't really a seperate au of w1 or anything! V1 and V2 used to be two bodies so of course there was another shell that ended up empty. I guess that'd be W2!

It is very much NOT alive and brainless though.

[mmmairon]

Idk if this is weird or not but could you draw Diluc telling me— someone they did a good job?

Not having the best time and I love your Diluc so much 😅

oh anon :( i hope this brings you some form of comfort <3

[luminique]

if i may... late night bike rides with lighter 🫶

whether you know how to ride a bike or not, most of the late night bike rides are on his bike. he makes sure that everyone is asleep before heading out with you. this way, he could have your arms wrapped around his waist as he drives out of blazewood. the road is pretty smooth for the most part so he takes this as a chance to sneak his hand onto yours, as if to fix your hand placement. in reality, it’s his way of knowing that you’re there, holding onto him.

it gets colder during the night in the outer ring. no blazing sun, the skies are clear, the iridescent edges of multiple hollows. he knows the perfect spot to stop at that had the best views. he clumsily removes his gloves off before putting a hand out for you to hold as you got off the bike. he has all these sharp parts on his gloves and he does not want you getting poked by it.

the stars twinkled across the night sky, it was breathtaking. with the outer ring depending on oil rigs, carbon emissions were high and yet it seemed like this was the only area untouched by it. your eyes may have been on the stars but his eyes were on you. you’d tell him to take his shades off because what’s the point of wearing them at night but he doesn’t want you to see how smitten he is.

it started off with just sitting on the ground. then it progressed to laying down side by side while talking. after a while, he’d notice your change in speech. how you’re talking slower and quieter. that was when he knew that you were getting a little tired. so as usual, he makes sure you’ve got something comfy under your head.

using his arm, he’d guide you to place your head on it. he’s definitely going insane at this moment but you were too busy trying to fight off your sleepiness to even notice his flushed face. you were practically talking nonsense now at this point and then a sudden silence mid sentence.

he doesn’t dare wake you up, instead choosing to watch you sleep. the way your chest goes up and down with every breath, your body unconsciously moving closer to his, searching for some sort of warmth. with his scarf, he’s slowly wrapping it around your neck instead. it’s not that big but it’s enough for the time being. the sound of your breathing and the sounds of wind in the outer ring, he finds it serene enough to rest his eyes, falling asleep right next to you.

you’re woken up by the soft light of the sunrise, eyelids fluttering open. you don’t see lighter next to you but his scarf is still wrapped around you. his voice calls out to you, casually leaning against his bike. he’s facing the sunrise but his eyes are on you. he wouldn’t mind doing this again, as long as it means he gets to spend time like this with you.

[inkbybambi]

Hi! Can please get #56 with ghoap x reader for Spotify 100 blurb? I am curious to see what happens... >_<

hi darling! yes absolutely, thank you for the prompt!

it's all about confidence baby / she's making me nervous, she's making me nervous

a smirk paints simon's lips as he leisurely sips his whiskey. two fingers, love — he had asked when you offered him a drink.

you gave him three with a glittering smile and a wink.

johnny is a right mess, nervously fiddling with his glass that’s still untouched, salted rim of his top-shelf tequila enticing, but not enough to actually take it.

you pout when you walk by, ready to refill him, your own glass hidden under the table to take one with him, but it’s still as neat as when you first placed it in front of him.

you open your mouth to say something, but a call from the other end of the bar catches your attention. another quick look to johnny shows he’s no closer to taking his drink. you slink away, your own glass untouched.

the bar is decorated with flashes of silver and gold, glitter dusting the countertops to ring in the new year. but you were the most gorgeous creature there and soap can’t look away.

“it’s been an hour, mate,” gaz slurs as he comes to the bar, his third glass of the night already empty. “just ask ‘er out.”

simon snorts into his glass, far too amused for soap’s liking.

gaz tips his glass in your direction, and you visibly brighten. they are your favorite regulars, after all.

“another one already, pretty boy?” your voice floats over the music, teasing, paired with a lethal grin that makes soap weak in the knees. soap knows the pet name isn’t directed at him, but his face heats and he ducks his head. you wouldn’t be able to tell in the low light of the bar anyway, but he doesn’t want to risk it.

“johnny,” you whine, and he can’t ignore you when you sound so sad. he looks up, the pout on your face even worse as you eye his glass. “do you not like it? it’s your favorite.”

gaz has a fresh drink in hand but is pointedly not leaving. he knocks soap’s shoulder — wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it — so now everyone’s attention was on him. your eyes are extra sparkly under the lights, and soap decides it’s now or never.

“can ah take ye on a date?” he blurts out, blush hot on his cheeks, heart doubling over itself.

your answering smile is blinding, perching up on your toes enough to lean over the counter. your fingers are soft on his cheeks, if not a bit sticky from the drinks you’ve been pouring all night, but he doesn’t care when your lips press against his.

the kiss isn’t perfect, both of you too caught up in smiling to kiss proper, but you give him a cheeky bite to his bottom lip before pulling away, a promise for more later.

price comes to gather his boys, motioning to a billiards table that just opened up for them. he gives you a nod in acknowledgment, and you make sure they’re all topped up on their drinks before they amble away. soap finally gives in to do a shot with you, and price mutters christ under his breath when you pass soap the lime from between your teeth.

“we’ll see you at home, doll,” simon calls as soap drags him away, saying that he’ll beat gaz and price this time, for sure.

[catastrxblues]

EVERMORE by taylor swift (feat. bon iver) — “and i was catching my breath, floors of a cabin creaking under my step. and i couldn’t be sure, i had a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn’t be forevermore.”

my #swiftiegiftexchange2024 for @lovesickallovermybed!!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

[exitwound]

i think your words are really beautiful. could you say something reassuring to me if you feel so inclined. i hope you have a lovely day