#i imagine you both know all of the constellations and like to point them out

[spicerackofblorbos]

Hey :D

I love your idea of the White Day Event, I think it's very creative and amazing! Anyway, I would really like to participate in that event, so here goes!

The character would be Levi Ackerman, and the date would be a late night picnic in a field, watching the stars, surrounded by candles etc. For his favorite things about me would be my reserved and caring personality and maybe also my eyes (which are blue). Finally, what we love to do together is drink tea while watching the stars at night, movie nights and cooking together.

Anyway that's all, I hope you have a nice day, thank you for this event! Can't wait for the 14th :D

[shalomniscient]

i think you can tell im a yukong/ himeko/ natasha person by now gjfhlhgfklgslkj im out of ideas today but i would love to see your takes on your first time with them? id imagine they would be sooooo gentle and patient, and i feel like natasha would know all the ways to pleasure you considering shes a doctor and she would touch you in all the right places hehehe ~🍪anon <3

first time || hsr x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. fingering, cunnilingus, first time with a strap-on specifically for yukong, entirely self-indulgent amounts of praise

notes. so............................ guess it's been a while huh

himeko

cw. cunnilingus

“If at any point it gets too much…”

You breathe out slowly, tangling your fingers in Himeko’s runy red hair. The tresses are soft against your skin, and you can glide your hand through it like silk. She so soft, but warms you like a hearthfire. “I’ll tell you, ‘meko. Promise.”

“Good,” she says, and leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. Her lips are as tender as the rest of her, and she tastes like sweet chapstick. Against the backdrop of the cabin lights, she looks like a goddess, a bright light in the vast cosmos stretching outside the cabin window. Her touch both sends you into orbit and draws you gently back to the ground—as if she is your gravity.

“I’ll go slow,” she whispers against your lips, and you nod mutely, only managing a soft mewl as she starts to kiss her way down your neck, her hands resting on your hips. She maps your skin with each kiss, pressing marks that she’ll later trace like constellations of affection. You gasp softly as her mouth finds your chest, and she uses her lips and tongue to lave all your sensitive spots with attention until you’re arching into her.

Himeko smiles, continuing to navigate her way down the plane of your body, drawing a path with her kisses until she settles between your legs. Her hands massage the jut of your hip bones as she shifts so that your legs are thrown over her broad shoulders. You shiver as her breath ghosts over your cunt, already embarassingly slick from her previous touches.

“I’m going to use my mouth on you, okay?” she murmurs, golden eyes flicking up to look at your from between your legs, and your heart nearly leaps into your throat at the sight, the coil in your stomach winding almost painfully tight.

“Okay,” you nod, voice a little small, and Himeko offers you a reassuring smile followed by a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Just relax,” she breathes, and then presses her mouth to your dripping cunt, drawing pleased, strangled noises from both of you. You, at the sensation of her tongue on your pussy, and her at the taste of you filling her senses. She has to hold back the urge to bury her face deeper into your wetness and just devour you—instead, she forces herself to take it slow as she had promised, and languidly laps up and down, from your hole to your stiff clit.

You mewl as her tongue prods the bundle of nerves, and the sound makes Himeko near-dizzy with need. She works you patiently with her mouth, though it doesn’t take much before you’re squirming in her hold, your body beginning to buzz with sensations, a knot winding tight in your lower belly.

Her tongue dips into you, two fingers assisting in spreading your lower lips for her. The wet muscle feels… odd, as it probes inside you, but certainly not unpleasant. Himeko drinks your wetness greedily, nearly voracious for you. The realisation only adds to your budding orgasm; to know you have her so needy, so desperate for you just by your taste—it’s certainly an ego boost of cosmic proportions.

Your hand tangles in her waves of fiery red, and Himeko smiles against your cunt. “Are you close, sweetheart? Just let it happen, let go. I’ve got you.”

Her lips move up from your twitching hole to your puffy clit, sealing around it. Then she sucks, a delicate pressure that nonetheless has stars exploding behind your eyelids as your eyes roll back into your head, your lips parting in a breathless cry of her name. Himeko moans into you as your cum wets her lips and chin more than it already is, and she laps up each drop eagerly.

Your hand in her hair flops down onto the bed as the wave of pleasure begins to ebb, and Himeko smiles as she pushes up, lacing your hand with hers. Her free hand brushes some hair out of your eyes, and she presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Good?” she asks softly, her eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort. You only manage a tired nod, your entire body feeling floaty—in a good way. She chuckles lightly as how fucked out you look already, then lies beside you on the sheets. Her strong arms wrap around you and pull you close, your head resting over the softness of her chest.

“Rest now. You did so well, my dear.”

natasha

cw. fingering, kinda voyeurism

You’ve found that it’s a special kind of embarassing to be walked-in on while trying to get yourself off. That momentary beat of awkward staring between you and the person who walked in, that knowing look yet the refusal to acknowledge it for both your sakes—it’s terrible, and you’ve never wanted to crawl out of your skin more.

Thankfully, Natasha—angelic as she is—took it remarkably in stride, settling down at the edge of the bed, a patient expression on her face. Her hand encircled your wrist, drawing it from the waistband of your sleep shorts, her eyes glinting as she notes the slickness on your fingers.

“Were you close?” she asks gently, and all you can manage was a tiny shake of your head. Natasha smiles, relaxed and easy, and places her hand on your waist. Her touch is cool against your heated skin. “Do you want me to help?”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at her offer, a choked noise escaping you. “T-That’s— you don’t have to, Nat—“

Natasha only chuckles, pressing a finger to your lips to hush you. “I know, but I want to. May I?”

“I’ve never… you know,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll…”

“Don’t worry,” she assures you. “I’ll take good care of you—and we can stop whenever you feel like it.”

And so, that is how she has you where you are now: squirming under her touch, one hand held tightly in hers while the other grips her other wrist, where two of her long, dextrous fingers sink all the way to the third knuckle inside you. The feeling of fullness between your hips is foreign but not unpleasant, the pads of Natasha’s fingers rubbing the softness of your cunt. She toys with a spot within you that has you seeing stars, your thighs almost snapping shut around her arm.

“T-Tasha—“ you cry out as her thumb finds your stiff clit, and she soothes you with a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. She draws delicate circles around the little bundle of nerves as her fingers continue to coax more pleasure from you, curling in a come hither motion to brush against your g-spot just right.

“You sound so lovely, my dear,” she hums, the hand holding yours bring it to her lips to kiss your knuckles. “So perfect.”

“Tasha, ‘m gonna—“ you whimper, eyes squeezing shut, and she speeds up her fingers ever so slightly.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” she coos, leaning down to press her forehead against yours. “Relax, and come for me.”

With one last expert curl of her fingers, Natasha sends you far over the edge, the strongest orgasm of your life winding up your spine and bursting like fireworks behind your eyes. You can distantly feel and hear her work you through the high, and you shiver as she withdraws her fingers. They glisten with your slick, dripping from her digits down to her wrist, and when Natasha’s tongue darts out to lick at the droplets you nearly whine.

“Tasha…”

She smiles at you, and it’s like the sun emerging behind grey clouds. She indulges you as you make grabby hands towards her, shifting on the bed so you can wrap your arms around her. “Yes, dearest?”

“Thank you,” you mumble against her shoulder, and she laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

yukong

cw. strap-ons

“H-Hurry up, already…”

Your whine is almost petulant as it leaves your lips. You wriggle your hips—or do your best to, what with Yukong’s firm grip on your waist—trying to push back on her silicone cock. Yukong grunts at that, her hold on you tightening ever so slightly.

“Patience, sweet thing,” she rumbles, low and soothing. “There’s no rush.”

Any smart-mouthed retort dies in your throat as Yukong pushes another inch into you, your head dropping down against the soft sheets. She’s filling you up in a way so different but just as good as her fingers—you can feel the artifical veins on her cock press against your inner walls, and the thickness of it creates a delicious pressure that has more of your wetness slicking the remaining length not buried in you already.

“Good girl,” Yukong breathes, leaning down to nose at your shoulder. “Such a good girl, taking me so well. That’s it, sweet thing, you’re almost there, just relax—“

By the time her hips meet your ass, she’s stuffed you so fully that you’ve already gone brainless. Your pussy squeezes and clenches around the false cock like a vise, tight enough that even drawing back is a challenge for Yukong. But she doesn’t, and lets you adjust to the length inside you first, her fingers traveling beneath you to tap on your clit to get you to relax.

Pleasure and an aching fullness buzzes throughout your body, and it is nothing but pure instinct that eventually drives you to rock back and forth on her cock. Yukong chuckles softly above you, her free hand gently tilting your head to the side. Her pupils blow wide as she notes your already fucked-out expression, and she kisses you with just the slightest hint of teeth as she starts to slowly pump her cock in and out of you.

The movement pushes breathless moans from your lips that Yukong devours greedily. The sound of your wet cunt taking her is the only thing she can hear, her sharp, foxian ears swiveled to focus only on you. She has to consciously pace herself, pulling back to nuzzle against your nape and drawing deep breaths through her mouth. If she breathed in any more through her nose, the scent of your slick would drive her to wildness and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from pounding you into the bed.

But there’s always time for that in the future. For now, she moves slowly but rhythmically, hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. You babble her name in between whiny moans, your fingers clawing into the sheets.

“You’re doing so well,” she praises breathlessly, eyes flicking back to your cunt to see the way you spread around her cock, and it sends a bolt of need right down to her own cunt. “So good for me, darling, taking me so well. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

You make a loud, keening noise at that, toes curling, and Yukong knows you’re close. She smiles against your shoulder, forgoing her slow, deep strokes for small, sharp thrusts as she’s buried fully within you. Her finger on your clit doesn’t let up either, and soon enough you’re squirming on her cock, that familiar tightness in your tummy ready to snap.

“Go ahead, darling,” Yukong croons, her teeth ghosting the soft flesh of your nape. “Come.”

And you do, beautifully, your cunt bearing down on her cock with enough force you nearly push her out. A white ring forms at her base, and Yukong swallows thickly as her throat dries at the sight. She manages steady, languid thrusts to work you through the daze of pleasure until you slump boneless into the sheets, utterly satiated. You whimper as she pulls out with a wet, slick sound, and she kisses your shoulder in apology.

“Come here,” she coos, discarding the strap somewhere on the bed and gathering you into her arms. You’re hardly able to move, all the sense having been fucked out of you, and Yukong chuckles at the sight, brushing a few strands of hair out of your eyes. “Good?”

You only answer with a pleased hum, snuggling close into her neck. Yukong smiles fondly as she cards her fingers through your hair, nose pressed to your temple to inhale your scent.

Seems like her strap will be seeing more action now.

[jmliebert]

♡♡♡ domestic bliss with gale ♡♡♡

a lot of gentle touches and sincere "I love you"s

Gale makes you breakfast almost everyday (obviously)

sometimes when the mood takes him, he'll even do something like heart-shaped pancakes and despite it being cliche you can't help but feel your heart soften by the gesture

on special mornings, he'll even bring breakfast to you in bed, a tray laden with your favourites (he knows you very well)

and let me just say he always leaves the kitchen tidy. he may be a little messy sometimes, his (and now yours too) place may be a little cluttered, but he's a tidy wizard and clean up after himself period !!!

while we are talking about the kitchen....you had steamy sex over the counter more times that you can count

during the day, when he's immersed in his studies, you often bring him a steaming cup of coffee or a tasty snack

you sneak behind him and start massaging his shoulders, and he groans at the touch with appreciation, tenderly kissing your hands

but you're not always as merciful; seeing him hunched over his books, his brow furrowed in concentration does something for you; makes you want to melt away his stress with different type of distraction...and he's so easy to tease :))

but what I want to talk about more is simple moments you share together; like when Gale prepares a meal you hum a tune and wash the dishes, stealing little kisses from him that leave you both smiling;

you hug him from behind when he's cutting the vegetables and it feels so good to feel warmth of his body and the rhythm of his heart;

you can't resist giving his cute, small ass a cheeky squeeze, which makes him jump and laugh and then tutting and calling you a bad girl with his index finger pointed into the air (he wants to sound angry but fails)

and you can always feel his gaze on you filled with a quiet, unwavering affection

your dinners are often a candlelit affairs, filled with soft smiles and meaningful conversation. as the sun slowly fades over the horizon, you sit on the balcony, basking in the golden glow, sharing quiet moments over books (you read a lot of books at this household)

sometimes you talk about everything and nothing (gale often ranting at his students) and sometimes you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder while he still reads, or you fall asleep on his lap, as he gently massages your scalp, his fingers threading through your hair making you all cozy and cared for

sometimes during the night Gale is stargazing with you, pointing out constellations and sharing the mythology behind them, with knowing hands he gently guides your body as you peer through the telescope

I can also imagine you two spending your evenings by the fireplace with glasses of wine in hand and an enchanted piano playing softly in the background. Gale arm wrapped securely around you, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your skin unconsciously

Gale often runs hot bath for you, joining you in the warm water. his hands move in soft circles, washing your hair, his lips leaving tender kisses on the back of your neck and not soon after you feel his growing erection poking at your back

you brush teeth side by side, and Gale watches in awe as you go through your skincare routine, simply enchanted. he loves the scent of your lotion and can’t resist leaning in to inhale the fragrance of your skin, murmuring compliments that make you blush

then you are slipping into comfy pyjamas <33 your sheets are always fresh and clean (not a single crumb on your mattress!) all ready for your nightly cuddles and whispered conversations

in bed you both read (I said before; a lot of reading)

Gale never forgets to kiss your forehead goodnight

sometimes you’re the little spoon, snuggled safely in his arms, other times he’s nestled against you, seeking your warmth. and often, you simply sleep with your head resting on his chest or his on yours, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your hand

Gale, who has spent so long alone, quickly adapts to sharing his life with you. you fit right in, he finds some peace when he's with you; quickly he can't imagine you not being here with him

when you are not around he finds it difficult to sleep, often spending the night in his study until dawn, the shadows under his eyes deepening with each hour of your absence

he's miserable without you :((

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about gale ♡here♡

I'm sick rn, in my bed all day long (I'm losing my mind) and needed some gale fluff to feel better so!

[darlingdaisyfarm]

takin’ what’s not yours (ford x reader x stan)

chapter 1

tags: pre portal, hurt/comfort, angst, Stan & Ford needs a hug, reader too, emotional manipulation, everyone needs therapy but that’s not happening, mystery trio dynamics if you squint, billford?? hmmm

author note: guys i swear this was supposed to be a shameless porn threesome fic, but then Ford and Stan showed up with a whole suitcase of unresolved issues im so sorry

“You’re gonna change the world, Ford.”

“Only if you’re there to see it.”

***

Backsmore University. What a fucking place.

It wasn’t just the old brick buildings or the ivy creeping up the sides. Not really. It was the people. The crazy mix of the smartest, weirdest people you could imagine. You were one of them, no doubt. An absolute nerd with a lab coat on 90% of the time, a mess of papers and equations in your backpack and a head full of ideas and knowledge. But unlike Ford, you weren’t shy about showing it. You thrived in it, honestly. Lectures? Boring as hell, but the energy in the halls? The potential of every single person you met? Yeah, you were there for it.

One of these was Ford Filbrick Pines.

The ultimate BMU enigma, the textbook definition of nerdy. For some reason, his persona always made you think he was hiding some secret genius-level insanity behind his weirdly serious face. 

You’d laugh about it with your friends, the way he avoided talking to anyone. Classic “genius who’s too good for people” type.

He was everywhere, and yet, nowhere at all. Seriously, you could walk through the student lounge, see him hunched over a pile of research papers in the corner and just know you were witnessing something profound. He didn’t get what you were about at first.

You were funny, obnoxious even, always the first to crack a joke or make a ridiculous observation in class. Meanwhile Ford would just stare at you with those big eyes like he was trying to figure out if you were some kind of social experiment.

But then you started talking, typical nerds topics. About quantum physics, mathematics, about the mysteries of the universe, about everything. He’d scoff at how crazy your ideas were but then, just a second later, he'd be scribbling down some insane theory of his own that he wouldn’t even tell anyone else about. And you’d get it. You both would sit in the library, trading theories and arguing about the tiniest details of space-time.

You were the loud one, in Ford’s opinion, the one who could hold a conversation about quantum theory and drag Ford to a campus party all in the same breath. He’d grumble the whole way, saying it was a waste of time, rolling his eyes at your insistence that he needed a little break. He’d follow you through those sticky, badly lit student lounges, watching you laugh with people he’d probably never even look at twice.

These late nights when you’d drag him out to stargaze, pointing out constellations, half-naming stars you didn’t know, laughing when he’d shake his head, muttering about inaccurate astronomy. But he always went along with it, always ended up laying beside you on the grass, looking up at a sky he could never quite make sense of but was desperate to understand.

The graduation day. You clearly remember that one.

The sun was so bright you could barely keep your eyes open and everything felt like a dream. You had your cap crooked on your head (you were probably running late, as usual), your tassel swinging as you walked across the field, your friends beside you, shouting and celebrating like you were all in the fucking “after party of the year.” But then you turned and your eyes saw Ford, who was clutching that damn diploma like it was a golden ticket. He looked different somehow, like he’d finally unlocked a new version of himself. 

The Stanford Pines himself, recipient of Backsmore’s largest grant for his “eccentric” research, standing with his square academic cap, although it was comically slipping off his head. He looked out of place, like a scientist among a sea of partying students who could barely remember their names half the time.

So, you did what any good friend would do— you adjusted his cap for him, (plus you wanted an excuse to touch him), made some dumb joke about how he’d better not screw it up. He’d roll his eyes, but you knew he liked it. He needed it.

“Hey,” you grinned, “looking pretty fancy for someone who spends all their time talking to aliens or whatever.”

Ford smirked. “I’ve already got a date with a space-time continuum. But you can join if you want.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile didn’t leave.

***

Outside, the world has turned into a kind of cold, quiet hell. Snow falls in thick slow flakes, burying everything in a suffocating blanket of white. And Stan stands there, jacket pulled tight against his chest, staring up at the looming silhouette of his brother's house.

It's freezing, but Stan hardly feels the cold. Not really.

It’s quiet here, but it’s not peaceful. Silence feels heavy, like it’s watching him.

His thoughts are pulled back to a time that feels both recent and impossibly distant.

Ten years. Ten goddamn years. It’s been a decade since he's seen Ford’s face. Well, of course he doesn't expect Ford to look like something completely different, they’re twins after all. But at least now Stan knows what Ford would look like with a mullet.

Stanford was always the smart one, the golden kid, with big brains and hands that tinkered with mysteries beyond Stan’s understanding. And now. . . after all these years of silence, Ford finally decides he needs him. It’s a postcard, a single damn postcard, that drags Stan out of the muck and dumps him back here in this town, holding secrets and god knows what kind of twisted shit his brother’s got himself mixed up in.

After everything Ford did, after leaving, after barely even thinking to check in after all these years, Stan knows he shouldn't feel this way. But here he is. Waiting. Hoping. Hoping against hope, as if somehow, that tall figure would come striding down the snowy path, arms filled with books and that same serious look on his face. That same one he had as a kid when something big was on his mind. 

Stan shakes his head, letting out a breath that forms a small cloud in the icy air.

“Ten years, and you drag me here for what, Stanford?” he thinks.

Stan takes a deep breath, the cold seeps right down to his bones, but it’s not the winter’s chill that makes him shiver. His heart pounds as he stares at the weathered door in front of him, trying to shake off the surge of memories of the two of them, inseparable, back when they thought the world couldn’t touch them. But that was more than a lifetime ago.

He mutters to himself, “you haven’t seen your brother in over ten years. It’s okay. He’s family. . . He won’t bite.” or at least Stan hopes so and then he knocks, half-heartedly, already bracing himself.

The door swings open with a sudden jolt. Before Stan can even greet him, Ford’s voice booms through the biting air. "WHO IS IT?! Have you come to steal my eyes?!” his trembling hands grip a crossbow, pointed directly at Stan, and the first thing Stan notices are his brother’s eyes — wide and paranoid.

Stan looks at Ford, steps back a little, blinks, then blinks again. He tries to mask the pang of hurt as he lets out a shaky laugh, “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.”

Ford lowers the weapon slightly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and then, as if finally recognizing the person standing before him, he blurts, “Stanley, did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Stan grumbles, but to his surprise, Ford grabs him by the clothes, yanking him roughly inside before he can even process it. "Ah!" he exclaims, stumbling forward, before the door slams shut behind them.

Ford, still skittish, shines a flashlight in Stan’s eyes, his fingers trembling as he holds it, blinding his brother. “What is this?!” Stan shoves the flashlight away.

Deep down, though, he tries to mask the pang that Ford’s mistrust strikes in him. What happened between you two? Mom would be so upset about their relationship. They used to share everything, trust each other without question, without even a word. Now here they are, stumbling through a reunion that feels like walking on broken glass.

"Sorry,” Stanford answers quickly, studying Stan’s face as if looking for lies hidden in his eyes. “I just had to make sure you weren’t. . . It’s nothing. Come in, come in.”

Stan follows him, the warmth he thought he’d feel upon seeing his brother slowly cooling into something he doesn’t want to admit that feels like disappointment. He watches Ford flit around the room, casting paranoid glances, clutching onto a battered old journal like it’s the only thing holding him together.

The shack is cluttered, papers scattered on the floor, strange devices cluttering the tables, books piled high. Wow, Stan thinks, the whole place screams my brother has been here alone too long.

It makes Stan's chest tighten.

“Uh, you gonna explain what’s going on here? you’re acting like mom after her tenth cup of coffee.” he is trying to defuse the atmosphere somehow, to make contact, but inside, his heart aches. He missed Ford; he missed him like hell. And to finally be here, standing right next to him, only to find him. . . like this. Seriously? It’s almost too much to bear.

Ford, ignoring the gentle jab, clutches the journal tighter. “Listen, there isn’t much time. I’ve made huge mistakes and I don’t know who I can trust anymore.” he doesn’t meet Stan’s eyes as he glances at a skeleton in the corner, twisting its head away from him.

Stan’s heart drops. This is bad, worse than he thought.

He steps forward, placing a hand on Ford’s shoulder, a touch he hopes can somehow bridge the miles and years between them. “Hey, easy there. Let’s talk this through, okay?”

But Ford pulls back, a strange, paranoid look in his eyes. His fingers trace the spine of the journal as he glances at Stan. “I have something to show you. Something you won’t believe.”

Stan's brow furrows, his curiosity piqued despite himself. What could it be? Some kind of super scientific bullshit that opens doors to parallel worlds? A time machine? A wormhole? Black hole made at home?

He looks at Ford, how the man hasn’t aged a day physically, but the exhaustion, the fear, the isolation, it all is painted on his brother’s face. It’s painful to see. It’s heartbreaking to think how Ford might have been living in this place, alone with nothing but his thoughts, trapped in his own world of mistakes and fears.

Stan manages a weak grin, masking his own fear for brothers sanity in his heart. "Look, I’ve been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I’ll understand."

That twist in your chest, that awful, prickling feeling that something’s wrong.

You’re curled up at your kitchen table, sipping your tea with that kind of numbness you get when you’ve been overthinking too much. You told yourself to back off. He needed space. He needed time.

But when Stan’s eyes scan the giant, hulking portal machine in front of him, he can’t hide the bewilderment as he adds, “There’s nothing about this I understand.”

Ford’s hand wrapped tight protective around his journal. It’s the only one left, his last remaining key to understanding, to protecting everything he’s worked for. 

But now Stan stands across from him and his face clearly shows something what can be called betrayal.

Ford’s been distant. Secretive, even. The last time you two spoke, it was tense, full of anger and words you didn’t mean. It shouldn’t matter, you tell yourself, but the thought of him out there, alone, is like a weight pressing down on your chest.

Ford tries to explain as if Stan would understand. “It's a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explain how to operate it. There's only one journal left. . . and you are the only person I can trust to take it.” he steps forward, holding the journal out to Stan, eyes pleading. “I have something to ask of you: remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?” Stan’s face shines with smile until he hears next shit his brother say. “Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as ya can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!”

I should’ve just stayed, I shouldn’t have left.

Your fingers curl around the warm mug, but sadly the heat doing nothing to soothe the anxiety creeping up your throat.

You set it down on the counter, trying to shake off the feeling. It’s just the storm, it’s just you being overdramatic. It doesn’t mean anything.

But the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle.

Something’s wrong.

“That’s it? You finally show your face after ten fucking years and all you’ve got to say is ‘get away’?”

Ford's hand drops and disappointment flashes across his face. “Stanley, you don't understand what I'm up against! What I've been through!”

“Oh, yeah?” Stan can't contain his emotions. How dare he?! “You don’t understand what I’ve been through! Three different prisons, Stanford! I’ve chewed my way out of a goddamn car trunk! Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money, because you only care about yourself!”

With a sigh, you stand up, setting the mug down on the table as your dog, a sweet, eager little spaniel, looks up at you with wide, curious eyes.

Ford's temper snaps because he can't believe what the fuck his brother is talking about. “I’m selfish? I’m selfish, Stanley? You ruined my shot at a real life! At my dream school! And here I am, giving you a chance to do something meaningful and you still can’t get it through your head!”

You glance over at your dog, a scruffy, affectionate spaniel with big brown eyes who’s been staring at you from the corner of the room.

Stan raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? You want this fucking book gone?” he yanks a lighter from his pocket, the flame flaring up as he flicks it. “Fine. I’ll get rid of it right fucking now.” he holds the journal over the flame, daring Ford to make a move.

You can’t shake this feeling, this urge to go find Ford, even if it means dragging yourself out into the goddamn blizzard.

“I’ll be back soon, girl,” you murmur, pulling on your coat. You don’t know what you’re looking for, don’t even know what you’re hoping to find. But you have to see him. You have to know

Ford’s eyes widen, panic flashing across his face. “No!” he lunges for it, reaching out, but Stan yanks it back. “You don’t understand!” Ford shouts, desperation pouring through him.

But Stan takes a step back, holding the journal dangerously close to the flame. “You want me to take it? Well, then, I’ll decide what to do with it.”

“My research!” they jerk the book back and forth, playing a fucked up game of tug of war, their yells echoing through the lab as they struggle over it.

You can’t shake the feeling, it’s like something’s dragging you forward, pulling you toward him, toward the unknown.

It’s late and the woods are fucking silent, which is weird for Gravity Falls. You’ve been running for what feels like hours, your chest burning, your mind tangled in a mess of thoughts you can’t quite shake. Every goddamn thing with Ford lately has been a disaster, hasn’t it? One fight after another, with him shutting down, disappearing into his head like he’s always been known to do.

The last words you shared with him are still fresh in your mind, “this is it, okay?! I can’t do this anymore.” he didn’t even fight back, just. . . stared at you like you were the problem. Maybe you were the problem, you don’t know, but damn it, you cared. You couldn’t just pretend like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. That’s why you’re out here, because you’re not about to let him get swallowed up by whatever the hell is going on in that messed-up head of his.

And now, here you are, halfway to his place with nothing but your gut telling you that whatever was going down at Ford’s place was way worse than you thought.

When you enter, you hear the kind of noise— angry, violent, something breaking and you know Ford’s involved, you just know it. You don’t care if you two haven’t spoken in days, if things between you and him are a mess of unsaid things and frustrated silences. He’s been acting so off, and now, hearing the absolute mayhem erupting inside, you’re terrified.

The sounds are loud, shouting voices, furniture crashing, angry grunts. Your heart fucking stops as you push the door open so fast it slams against the wall. You’re not thinking, not caring that maybe you shouldn’t be here, but it’s too late to stop now.

At first, you think you've completely lost your mind, because you're seeing two Ford Pines. And then you think, either you're the one who's gone crazy, or Ford has, because he's literally fighting with himself.

But as you take a breath, both Fords turn to look at you, and that’s when it hits you: this isn’t just some bizarre mirror trick. There’s Ford and then there’s someone who looks a whole lot like him, but is definitely, absolutely not him.

“What the fuck is going on?” your voice rings out much louder than you meant, but you don’t care. Your heart is pounding way too hard and your feet are planted, legs shaking with adrenaline and worry. You’ve seen Ford in a mess of emotions, but never like this. Not this bad.

The second the door slams open, both of them freeze, but it’s the mulleted guy who speaks first. “So you got yourself a chick now, huh? Thought you were too busy playing goddamn Einstein to bother with things like that.” his angry eyes narrow at you, and you’re not sure if it’s anger or. . . jealousy? Frustration? You don’t have time to decode it.

This guy have absolutely the same features, same nose, same intense, serious brow, but his whole look is just rougher, like he’d been living a life Ford would never survive.

And your blood boils.

“No, fuck that,” you snap, glaring at mullet-man. “You don’t talk about me like that.” then you glance at Ford. “Ford, why the fuck didn’t you tell me about—”

but you get interrupted by Ford’s clone, Ford’s twin, whatever. “Name’s Stan. Stanley Pines. The brother of this genius. Bet he’s never even mentioned me, huh?”

Your stomach churns at the words. Fuck that, no way. This isn’t about you, this is about Ford.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” now you are shivering not only from the winter cold, but also from the absolute chaos of what is happening. You turn to Ford, eyes desperate, desperate to know, to understand, to find answers. “What’s going on? Where have you been? I couldn’t get ahold of you. You just. . . left. And I—” you stop yourself, biting your lip. This isn’t the time to scream at him for all the unanswered questions, for all the shit that’s been left hanging. Not yet.

Ford doesn’t seem to get it. His eyes flick between you and Stan like he’s trying to piece it together, but nothing adds up. "I don’t— what are you doing here? We— we said goodbye," his voice is strained, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“No, Ford. You said goodbye! You fucking disappeared! I don’t even know why, and I— fuck, just explain yourself, okay?” you can’t keep the desperation out of your voice anymore.

Stan is watching with his arms crossed over his chest, and he still doesn't look too pleased, but it's not just anger. Although you don't have time to deal with his point of view. You need answers. You need Ford to talk.

Ford opens his mouth to say something, but then the anger, the frustration, all of it just snaps. "I didn’t want you involved in this. . .  anyone involved. This, this thing with the portal, you wouldn’t understand—"

You don’t even let him finish. “Stop. Just stop, yeah? You don’t get to just disappear like that, Ford. I don’t care about the journal or the goddamn portal anymore. I care about you. Why the hell are you so fucking determined to push everyone away?”

Ford tries to get himself together, though he looks like he’s been caught with every secret he’s ever buried. “This— this doesn’t concern you, alright? Just— just leave, go, this is between me and him.”

Stan scoffs. “Oh, yeah, classy, Sixer. Let’s bring her in just to shove her right back out, huh? Really hitting your all-time high here.”

“Shut up,” his brother snaps.

But Stan’s just as stubborn, glaring right back. “No, I don’t think I will. Not when you’ve dragged some poor girl into this whole shitshow. Real nice, by the way, real nice! Does she even know what you’ve been up to, huh? All the crap you’re into?”

“I said shut up, Stanley. I shouldn’t have called you— God, I regret calling you! You’re just here to make things worse, like always.”

The words land harder than you thought they would. It's not like you didn’t know Ford could be an asshole, but hearing him say that directly to his brother hits a nerve, like a punch to the gut. 

You see Stan’s face change, his mouth drops open, his eyes so wide, like he’s been slapped across the face. He looks like he’s been gutted. It takes his breath away, because he didn't expect to hear this ten years later, and it's obvious that Ford's words hit him too deeply.

However, your own heart drop to your stomach too. Fuck. You didn’t know what was worse — the fact that they were tearing into each other or the fact that Ford could say something like that to his own brother. It’s too much, even for you. You want to scream at Ford, demand that he stop, that this isn’t helping anyone, but you’re paralyzed.

But Stan’s hurt turns into something else and he spits back, “You think I wanted this, Ford?! You think I wanted to be the fuck-up brother?! You’re the one who dragged me into this whole goddamn mess now. You asked me to come! You! So don’t go acting all high and mighty like I’m the one screwing your life up right now!”

And then, in that moment, everything goes to hell.

Before you know it, they’re back at each other’s throats. Ford lunges forward, grabbing the journal, but Stan’s not letting go, the damn thing passed back and forth between them like it’s a live wire, all anger and resentment boiled down to this one book as each of them trying to get a hand on it. 

You rush forward, hands outstretched to push them apart, anything to stop this from going too far, but in the heat of it all, Ford jerks back, elbow flying and you feel it land in your ribs, knocking the wind right out of you and it really fucking hurts. The pain shocks you so hard you gasp.

Ford’s eyes snap to you instantly, widening in horror. “Oh my god— I’m s-so sorry! are you alri—“ he reaches toward you, himself can’t believe he just did that to you, but he barely gets a word out before Stan’s fist slams into his jaw.

This time, Stan hits so hard, putting all his resentment into the punch that Ford stumbles dangerously close to the portal, which is buzzing. You watch in absolute horror as his body goes too close, the fucking thing flickering and humming like a beast about to devour him whole and for a heart-stopping second, Ford looks like he’s going to fall right in.

You’re out of your mind in an instant as you scramble to your feet, adrenaline spiking, crazy fear in your eyes. Without thinking, you reach out, grabbing Ford’s arm, pulling him back, using every ounce of strength you have to pull him back. “Ford, no! Get back!”

Stan’s standing there, frozen for a second, scared himself by how far he had come. His chest rises and falls in heavy breaths and his face is fucking pale as he stares at his brother’s body half in portal, but the guilt is written all over Stan’s face. His bruised hand is still raised, like he wants to hit Ford again, but it’s shaking. Did he. . . did he just. . ? God, he didn’t mean—

“You!” you scream, still tugging Ford away from the edge, but the portal’s pulling like a magnet and you’re fighting with everything you have. “Help me, now!”

Snapped out of his daze, Stanley rushes over, grabbing Ford. You tug harder, your muscles screaming as Ford’s body gives a last push toward the rift, but finally, finally, together, you both heave him back, dragging him away from the portal and out of that damn pull. His feet hit solid ground and you both just collapse.

You’re gasping for breath, hands still fisted in Ford’s coat, both of you holding on like if you let go, he’ll slip right back toward that nightmare.

Ford’s breathing heavily, disoriented, his hands gripping your arms in fear. 

Stan’s still looking at Ford, his face torn up because he doesn’t know whether to say sorry, to yell or to just walk the fuck out to not ruin something else. There’s realisation in his eyes and, for the first time, Stanley is seeing what his anger’s capable of. That punch could’ve been the end of everything.

“Brother. . .” Stan’s voice trembles. “I didn’t mean to—”

You don’t let him finish. “No, you didn’t mean to. None of you meant to,” you snap, but it’s not anger in your tone, it’s damn fear, panic, it’s this deep fucking worry. You turn to Ford. “But this shit needs to stop, okay? Right now. Please.”

The silence between you, Ford and Stan stretches out as if it’s some aftermath of a bomb going off. Ford’s still on the floor, breathing hard and it’s not the near-death experience that’s fucking him up, but the bitter realisation of what could have really happened if that damn portal had taken him in.

“So that’s it, huh? After ten goddamn years, this is how you treat me? Almost shove me into a portal like it’s nothing?”

Stan opens his mouth, but Ford isn’t letting him get a word in, he’s too riled up now, all that anger and pride churning in him, boiling over. “Do you even understand what could’ve happened? What you almost did? You haven’t changed one bit, Stanley. I should’ve known better. Should’ve known you’d just fuck everything up, again. Just like you did back then.” Ford’s voice sounds colder than the winter outside. “Remember the science fair, Stan? You destroyed my experiment because you were too fucking selfish to think about anyone but yourself. I could’ve had everything. You took that from me, my chance at West Coast Tech, my chance at anything and then you have the nerve to make me the villain?”

It hits Stan harder than any punch ever could. Stan doesn’t even blink, his whole body stiff, shoulders slump.

His mouth opens like he wants to fight back, but there’s no fight left in him, the words are stuck in his throat. He doesn’t say shit, trying to process everything at once. But there’s nothing to process. Ford’s right.

“Yeah, I get it,” Stan mutters, holding back tears. “I’m a fucking failure. I know that, Sixer. Always have been. I’m sorry.”

But then he does the one thing you didn’t think he would. He turns around, slow, defeated, too fucking tired to argue and fight anymore.

And just like that, he starts walking away. But deep inside Stanley is crying like a child, expecting Ford to stop him. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t say a word, but he wishes Ford would care, at least once. 

You’re fucking shocked, feeling helpless rage and anger, heart pounding with confusion and disbelief. You thought. . . well, you don’t even know what you thought! That they’d hug it out? Have some big, tearful reunion? Not really! But this mess of accusations and bitterness and old scars is so fucked up. Completely and utterly fucked up.

Ford stands there, all silent, watching Stan’s back as he walks away, not moving an inch. The pride, the stubbornness, the wall he’s built around himself. Oh god, that guy is so fucking smart he doesn’t know how to feel anymore.

You look back at Ford, at his rigid stance, he won’t even move, won’t even try to call Stan back. You can’t believe it and something snaps in you, something fierce and hot because you’re done with all this bullshit.

“You’re not even gonna ask him to stay? Fuck, what is wrong with you both?”

Ford’s face tightens, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even flinch. And it drives you insane, watching him cling to that pride, that goddamn logic of his that’s somehow more important than his own damn family. No fucking way is this ending like this. Not after everything you’ve just seen, not with Ford standing there like a goddamn statue, too proud or too blind or too stupid to do anything but let his brother walk out.

You storm past Ford, ignoring his surprised look as you push past him, practically running after Stan. “wait!” you shout. But Stan doesn’t stop, doesn’t even glance over his shoulder.

“Stan!”

“What?” he snaps at you.

You step closer. “You’re not leaving,” you say, staring him down like it’s a challenge.

He lets out a dry, humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Trust me, sweetheart, it’s better if I do. I don’t belong here.” he jerks his thumb back in Ford’s direction. “Pretty clear I’m not welcome.”

“Bullshit,” you respond, what makes Stanley raise an eyebrow, looking a little surprised at your bluntness. “I don’t care if he’s too proud to say it, but you’re his brother— I mean, you think this is how family’s supposed to be? You think he doesn’t want you here?”

“Look, kid, you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Me ‘n’ Ford? We’re a lost cause. Always been. Ain’t no point in tryin' to fix it now.”

“Oh, come on! So you fuck up, he fucks up— you’re both disasters. That doesn’t mean you just give up. I don’t care if it’s been years or what the hell happened between you two. You don’t just fuckin’ quit on family. That’s not how this works.”

Stan’s mouth twitches and he looks like he’s gonna bite back with something snarky, but he doesn’t. He just lets out this tired sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t wanna hurt him more than I already have. I always mess things up. I’ll just make it worse. So what’s the point?”

You take a deep breath, trying to rein in the frustration pounding through you. “The point is, you’re his brother! And if you don’t stay, if you don’t try to work this out, you’ll both regret it. You can’t just leave him to deal with this shit alone.” 

Stanley opens his mouth, ready to throw out another excuse, but you cut him off.

“Look, Stan,” you change the intonation to softer one, “I don’t know the whole story here. I don’t know what went down between you two and I’m sure as hell not saying it doesn’t hurt like hell. But this whole thing you guys are doing? Pushing each other away? It’s not gonna make anything better.“

“Fine, fine. But don’t expect me to be the hero, alright? I ain’t got no magic words to fix this shit.” Stan sighs and looks down like he’s too damn tired for this conversation.

When you and Stan make your way back inside, you see Ford still there with his back to you.

Stanley huffs out a laugh, trying to shake off the tension. “So, Sixer, when’d ya start collectin’ all this junk? don’t tell me you got a whole damn museum in here.”

Suddenly, Ford huffs a dry laugh that sounds a little bitter coming from someone like him. “Wouldn’t expect you to get it. Takes more than a few brain cells to appreciate real science.”

Stan’s smile falters, well, it was pretty rude, but he thinks he deserved it. You and Stan share a look, but before you can say anything, Stan just shrugs it off, letting out a forced chuckle, his voice trying to stay light. “Ha, yeah, same ol’ Ford. Ya always had a way with words, didn’t ya?”

There is only silence in response, but when you come a little closer, you finally take in the sight of Ford holding a goddamn crossbow.

Wait, what?

Your eyes go wide and the first thing that hits you is the cold sweat creeping up your spine.

Stan and you freeze. Confusion mixing with a little fear as you both look at Ford, What the hell is going on with him? Since when does Ford carry a crossbow around like it’s no big deal?

Stan raises an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. “Hey, bro, you planning on hunting something tonight or just ready to, I dunno, take out some deer in the backyard?”

[stansangel]

Ford Imagine

This is mainly because the poll is showing an astounding amount of want for Ford content as of rn so I thought I'd do this to tie you over until I can write about him (it's basically the same concept as my Stan one) Pairings: Stanford Pines x Reader Warnings: none! fluffy fluff!! Word Count: 259

Ford takes you on a surprise stargazing date. He knows how much you love the night sky, so he sets up a cozy spot on the roof of the Mystery Shack, complete with blankets, pillows, and a thermos of hot cocoa he made himself.

As you both lie back, the night sky twinkling above, Ford excitedly points out constellations, his eyes lighting up with passion. (He's such a nerd but you love it.) But then, he turns to you with a soft smile, pulling out an old, worn notebook from his jacket.

"I've been writing down all the things I love about you," he says, a little shy but completely sincere. He opens the notebook, revealing pages filled with detailed notes, sketches, and little memories you've shared together. Each one is a testament to how much he cares, how deeply he notices every detail about you. The content in the notebook is so detailed and meaningful it's has all your quirks written in it with little doodles of you doing them to give a visual aid. (Some of them you didn't even know you did, but he did, he noticed.)

He reads a few aloud, his voice tender, and then places the notebook in your hands. "I wanted you to have this," he says, his gaze warm. "So you always know how much you mean to me."

Under the stars, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world. (To be loved is to be seen and Stanford Pines sees you.)

[neominthe]

Practicing character design with some novel's MCs. Here are my headcanons:

Cheong Myeong

Bulky and beefy body. Big arms and hands, which can't be seen as his robes are too big on him

Tanned skin as he trains in the sun a lot, but only on the hands, face and neck since they aren't covered by his Mount Hua robes

I headcanon him as short since he started exercising from an early age in unhealthy amounts, stunting his growth

Super curly hair which Cheong Myeong keeps constantly in a ponytail. At one point in time he will pull in a bun to keep it from tangling

Sharp eyes with extremely long eyelashes

Han Yoojin

I'm a sucker for gaining weight representing character is in a safe and happy place for them

His nose is like a button, a feature he shares with Yoohyun

Yoojin has curlier hair than Yoohyun, though does not care for it. As a result, it's constantly messy and tangled, adding to the 'single mother who has two jobs' look

In the novel (I can't remember which chapter) it is mentioned that Yoojin gained a bit of skin color, making him look healthier. I followed the webtoon skin color (which was like white paper) and darkened it a bit, to look healthier but still very light

Yoojin has pieces of Sung Hyunjae's wardrobe on him. The guy has a lot of money, surely he won't be missing his 100k dollar suit right? (Hyunjae allows it since it is Yoojin stealing and it kinda "marks his territory". You know, like a dog)

Park Moondae

After receiving Idol Inc' sweather, he always wears it as Moondae is too lazy to go buy his own clothes (and to save money)

He got the shoes from Seon Ahyeon, which were one size bigger than his. Moondae doesn't bother telling Ahyeon he got the wrong size, so wearing it causes blisters

Moondae has "dead fish eyes" and a small mouth, making him look like the emoji '-' Fans find it adorable, though

He got a soft jawline and a thin face, as well as a pointy nose

It's possible to determine Moondae's emotion by the glint of his eyes, but only his close friends can do it precisely

Kim Dokja

I didn't intend to make him look like a corpse, but as I kept drawing it felt more and more right for him to be that way. He was an office worker and only had one happiness: a webnovel

Dokja spends most of his time indoors, so he is very pale and lacking of vitamin D. As he became a constellation and Demon King, his complexity worsened and looked inhumane, turning grey ash

He is able to retract his wings, but not his horns. They are constantly out and a burdensome, since Dokja often forgets they are there, making him hit the doorframe several times

Dokja's hair covers a part of his face (an ode to the damn censorship Bihyung added) and is choppy because he cuts his own hair. If cared and brushed almost every day, it would be like his mom's: flowy and soft

He has long eyelashes, especially on the lower lid, and downturned eyes, which makes him look gloomy and teary-faced

I imagine Dokja having a bit of a hunchback from all the time he spends in his phone and working in a computer

Dokja also has long legs, which he keeps hidden under his tattered coat

Cale Henituse

The man has a thin and tall body, to the point he seems both elegant and fragile at the same time

Cale has light skin due to his time spent indoors or under every shade he can find whenever he has to go out

Cale's features are mostly pointy, with sharp angles and straight lines running down. His nose is upturned, has arched eyebrows and sharp eyes

The straight hair was inherited from Deruth's parents, Cale's gradparents and red obviously from Jour

[noellefan101]

Your First Date-Genshin pt 3

Characters: Lyney, Freminet, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham x gn reader

Summary: Your first date with them,

Warnings: lyney flirting, tea

Note: omg im finally done, i really liked writing these tho, ye thats all i have to say school literally destroyed my brain, love you

Lyney

he would definitely preform a TON of magic tricks during your first date, both romantic, some are just pretty to look at and then there´s the brother-you're-just-embarrassing-yourself magic tricks

: said ever so kindly by Lynette

wouldn't make your date as public as his shows, since he wants to share the moments and magic tricks with you only

(+ Lynette, Fremi and "father" if she asked him so, but yk, they're only made for you)

after he had given you more rainbow roses than you could ever count to, he set out some homemade goods, like cookies, a cake, cupcakes(whatever you lik)

(in which he definitely didn´t spend a few days learning to make)

overall 10/10 (if you dont ask lynette, she had to leave bc of the amount of secondhand embarrassment(she was there at the start)) and it was enjoyable for u.

Freminet

yes, you would be underwater for your first date, but if you really don´t like it(yet)he can just take you some other time

^^but he would prefer to show take you on your first

[and yes, Lyney and Lynette (+his other siblings at home)did bet on when he would finally confesses and take you on a date]

he would let you wear his diving helmet if you really wanted to, but he would also just wear it if he felt embarrassed, or wanted to tell you a story (most likely abt pers)

he aslo ended up showing you a few of his mechanics(robots?)

and showed you some works in progresses other people haven´t seen, other than him and pers ofc

Wriothesley

he would drink tea with you in his office

^^maybe Sigewinne baked you something too,

but you mainly drank tea and just talked the whole time

(bro likes tea so much, someone pls make him shut up abt it)

well other than showing you and talking about his (absolutely massive) tea collection (and cake/bakery(sry))

if he´ll ever let you talk, ofc he will(its a very unfunny joke), he´ll listen to you for as long as you´d want to talk

you also laughed a little when he told about how melusines and stickers dont work well

and he liked seeing and hearing your laugh, so he might go for a date number two

Neuvillette

he would take you out to a fancy restaurant or he would just sit and talk with you somewhere more private

but maybe include a Melusine passing by here and there, checking on you both or for some work-related reasons (that they then put off, just a little, when seeing you both together)

i imagine that you would try some different types of water with him, by his request, and tried your dam best to find a difference.

but he would also get you any kind of drink, dessert or food you´d like

all in all its pretty easy bonding with him, and he just likes being beside you and spending time with you

Alhaitham

he would take you to a quiet cafe where you could sit in peace, since he doesn´t like loud places and want you two to be alone for the most part

he would pay 100% he doesn't even give you a chance to try and pay for anything (he´s nice when he wants to be)

he definitely brought a book with him to read(+ one for you) and would either let you talk while he reads a "little", or he would just read out loud so you know what kind of books he likes

he´s not good at doing any kind of romantic things, but he did try and do something

that including:

taking you out on the date later in the evening so he later could show you the stars, and point out some constellations

asking your friends (and maybe family) what you like food-wise, so he knows what kind of place he should have in mind when picking the place of your date

thank you for reading i don´t think i´ll make any more of these, but if you want it i´ll do it, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[rxsilabeth--er]

the perfect duo FRR ‼️‼️ would love to see his eyes tear up as he begs for a release, cause, come on, he's been such a good girl for you. his hips stutter a lot, trying to pull away so he can just shut his thighs and calm down from the stimulation but you're bringing him to a point where he can see the constellation he belongs to with all the stars you're making him see. -🎸 anon (i'm completely feral for my pretty boy.)

(AHHHHH!!! genderfluid? Regulus? don't know, but usage of good girl for him.)

Regulus shoved his face deeper into the pillow as his hips stuttered but you simply pushed him down, pulling your lips away from his clit taking away all pleasure in a matter of seconds,

"N-no! ngh~....Please, I'm so-sorry, I'l-I'll behave..that's...hah..that's what you want right?! Pleaseee!" he whined, softly kicking his legs out as you simply scoffed, rolling your eyes as you smirked, pushing him down and softly rubbing his lower stomach, your finger softly entering his cunt again as Regulus audibly sighed out of relief loudly,

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!! Ah...fuck.." he whispered out as you rubbed his lower stomach, softly moving the finger in and out, "You better behave if you wanna cum." you said simply as he simply nodded, his eyes filling with tears of frustration and became glassy and foggy as he clung to your arm.

Softly you entered the second finger and began moving them roughly inside him, folding them to rub against his spot roughly, you other hand on his chest as you pushed him down, taking his thighs and kissing them as you placed them on your shoulders.

Kiss after kiss, slowly going to his upper and inner thighs before kissing his clit softly as you removed your fingers, making him whine loudly as he threw his head back, crying softly,

"Pleasee! I've...I've been...been good, haven't I?...I..please, I wanna cum!" he whined softly shaking his head as you gently stroked his head before shoving it down sighing,

"Fine, my poor baby. Can't cum? I'm not giving you enough, haven't I? Okay..shh.." you softly stroked his lip with your thumb before he took it in his mouth softly sucking as you mockingly but still genuinely smiled at him.

"Come on, pretty baby, you've been whining like a little girl all this time...shh, be quiet." you said softly before taking your wet thumb out his mouth, your hand completely wet by his drool, tears, juices and previous cum..poor baby.. :(

Softly you shoved your one finger before another before plunging them as deeply as possible, curling them and touching and softly pressing his soft spot. Your other hand stroking his thigh and your lips sucking on his clit as he whined loudly, tears spilling down his red cheeks like a little baby...your free hand snaked from his thigh to his lower stomach pressing down gently and rubbing it as suddenly his noises went a octave higher,

"pleasepleaseplease! I'll be a good boy...Even a good girl! please, iwannacum!" he cried loudly as you smirked, "Oh?", before the smirk dropped as he covered his face with his hands as you harshly slapped his thigh, "Hands off." a command simply made him lose control of his body as both his hands simply held the mattress in his hands tightly, knuckles turning white, "Please...your hand...on...mystomach!! No...." he whined more high-pitched as you grinned and placed it back to press down and rubbing his lower stomach, pretty boy already on edge to cum.

Softly you shoved your fingers again in his mouth, making him clean them before you softly pressed them inside his cunt again, plunging them deeper and deeper, touching places he did not even imagine you could...

Stars appearing in his eyes, even his own constellation as his hips stuttered just as your teeth softly grazed his clit before harshly sucking when suddenly all came crashing down on him...

As he let out a sigh of relief, pulling you up to kiss you as you pushed back his hair with a dry hand, your face dripped with his juices as you wiped your face and shoved your wet fingers in his mouth, making sure he cleaned them well. A smirk dancing on your lips,

"Good girl."

© This writing work belongs to me, rxsilabeth--er, Aurelia, Rosilabeth, Cerine. Reblogging is appreciated, but plagiarizing or copying my works is forbidden, thank you for reading this and if you like this check out my blog!

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA # 20

Star born child.

Imagine dis…

Ever since we were a child, we often would ask our parents where stars came from as we gazed along the night sky. Some parents would reply they were just fireflies that got stuck when they flew over, some say those are little children playing as mother moon guards over them, and some say that they were our ancestors watching over us as we slept.

But you know what I said? I said that stars were made by a little elfish young boy with stark white hair, white pupil-less glowing eyes, freckles that looked like constellations, wearing a black and silver accented princely outfit, puffy white shoes that had little bells on it that seemed to giggle each step and a cape that looked like the galaxy. He loved the space so much that he created stars from the smallest of them to the largest and brightest one up in the night sky.

…

Some JL members were drifting along space inside their space vehicle as they had just finished another mission that required them in space. Despite being mainly Earth’s exclusive protectors they have made alliances and friends were, made along the way with many different species, yet they also made enemies from space from the countless people they have overthrown or defeated in space just by being fleshy humans.

As they were drifting into space Superman couldn’t help but still sense a deep feeling of longingness and awe every time he looked into the deep abys despite looking at the same view since the JL space HQ was made. Longing for what could be his planet’s history and culture that could be in one of the endless planets and stars that were present today and in awe at the vast space that kept expanding for more planets and life that were to be made.

…

Flash was the first to notice something was amiss when it was his turn to watch over the controls to ensure a safe and smooth travel back to Earth.

He was just watching the endless void when he began hearing some sounds resembling a child’s giggle out of utter glee and the ringing of bells. Now remember he is a man of science and will refuse any supernatural action despite working with the greatest magicians Earth has to offer. The giggles seemed to continue as the lights kept flickering out without any interference and both sets of sounds kept echoing and bouncing off the walls, he kept hearing a creak on metal behind him, and he kept “misplacing” some snacks and the mug he just placed next to him, it kept him all night to the point that by the next day, Green Lantern had found him slouched by the controls muttering to him about a devil child haunting the league as he felt being mocked him as he kept looking at his back.

…

Cyborg is the next one to hear the mysterious sounds but instead of the giggles he unfortunately teased the Flash about but a static noise-like sound filtered his ears.

Ever since his accidents he has noticed that his hearing and eyesight have increased exponentially due to the machines that upgraded two of his senses.

At first, he thought he was picking up a foreign radio signal/ message between two planets that have a rather large frequency but when that signal began interfering with his sight and hearing he knew there was something wrong. There are very few frequencies that can really interfere with his sense since his accident and now powers/ abilities originated from an explosion of the mother box. He cannot keep himself awake due to the amount of static that invades his hearing and sight he later lost consciousness and suddenly awoke in one of their med bays.

…

Batman was the first one to see their mysterious haunting of a child. Despite barely believing the Flash due to his history of pranking and history of delirious muttering whenever he watched too many horror films as well had Cyborg being grilled for every detail he can remember before he passed out, he will never admit it to anyone that he had frozen the moment he saw it.

He was just making his rounds around the space shuttle of the JL when he heard a child’s giggles accompanied by the light giggles of bells. He is immediately on guard as they are in the middle of space if anything snuck in it can’t be good news.

As he was surveying the area, he found his gaze towards a small child. A small elfish little child with stark white hair, white pupil-less shining eyes, constellation-like freckles, dressed in a black and silver accentuated royal attire, and puffy white shoes with little bells on them. He seems to have not noticed him Batman keeps quiet and begins observing, the said mystery child is still giggling without a care in the world when he suddenly pauses and takes a look at a seeming space to his right. Frowning as if there was something wrong the child suddenly jerked up as if he had a bright idea, slowly raising his arms and began to move his arms in such fluid motion as if he was creating something but what? Suddenly a large bright invaded in front of him forcing him to close his eyes at the assault of light. When he gains his vision again, he sees the mysterious boy looking all happy and proud with the way he puffed up his chest as well as the bright smile on his face. As he turns to the boy’s direction which was before a space was now replaced by a newly made small dwarf star that he was positive wasn’t there moments ago, brightly twinkling. Batman was so engrossed in what had just transpired that as he focused on the said star he noticed movement, at the corner of his eyes he saw the mysterious boy had spotted him and immediately disappeared into the vast void of space.

…

The next day he held the meeting about the said mysterious boy, you can hear the Flash boasting he was right to the other members about having the space shuttle haunted when Batman noticed both Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern stutter and look of disbelief in their faces and promptly asked what was that. Martian Manhunter went first, when Batman described the said child it reminded him of the Martian’s ancient texts, history, books, and scrolls if you will. That said child was said to be their god as in the past they had been on the brink of extinction due to the barrage of asteroids heading their way, as he had appeared to save them and he also gave them the knowledge to advance by themselves. Martian Manhunter ended his statement that he had heard it when he was just a Martian youngling as it was taught to every young Martian that their great guardian was watching them in space. Green Lantern explained that what Batman had seen was something that the Green Lantern Corps was supposed to be the only people who knew of his existence. He had shown himself a few times when a Lantern was in a precarious situation or on the verge of it some lanterns have witnessed him creating a planet or stars depending on which in his will, and some have seen the said boy expand the universe to his will as if we were taking a stretch. The guardians in the Lantern Corps have tried multiple times to guard the said boy as it was obvious that he some kind of ethereal being creating life and other celestial beings but he always disappeared so it became some sort of an ongoing mission to protect and watch over the boy whenever one of the lanterns spot him.

…

Danny was enjoying his ghostly life, after years he had been neglecting his primary obsession which is his fascination with the celestial bodies in favor of his secondary obsession of protection whenever he had stayed on earth it had felt like it was caging him, suffocating himself and his core, especially when he became the Ghost King. Writing reports all day as well as ensuring the zone was up and running, he had felt himself getting more exhausted by the say. So, when Clockwork had gone to him and told him to practice his primary obsession as a form of taking a vacation Danny was ecstatic.

He created countless stars, from the largest of them all form the smallest of dwarfs. He had created solar systems created a multitude of planets and let life thrive on the barren place. He let the vast space be his canvas for his obsession, he let the stars he formed and created form different constellations.

If only those green guys stopped being so stalkerish every time they encountered him, he thought that he had escaped the whole stalker gig when he became the Ghost King better yet when he escaped the life of being a superhero.

...

Now he can't help but keep looking at the floating space shuttle as if he had just gone to a new space museum, Danny appeared to sense some interesting people in the shuttle. People who had been touched by death, people whom he felt a slight connection with, and other species from different planets.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[ghostiequill]

Mihawk x Librarian Part 2

Since some people requested it (AHHH oh my gosh thank you for all the love <3) here's a part two :3

You’ve learned overtime how exceedingly romantic Dracule Mihawk can be

He would place his heart into your hands and do the embarrassing couple things without flinching. You want matching bright pink keychains? Sure, he’ll even buy them for you. You want to feed him in public? His eyes linger on you as he slowly takes the spoon in his mouth. 

Mihawk made sure to show off in subtle ways, his dexterity in sword fighting transferred to gracefulness when he decided that right then was the perfect time to dance to the old record in your shop after hours. He would subtly show off his muscles when you helped restock large boxes of stock, knowing you secretly admired his strength

Just because he showed off doesn’t mean he couldn’t be a gentleman. Constantly opening doors for you or offering protection in the form of an arm ghosting on the small of your back when you were out wandering the town. 

He would collect little knick knacks for you every time he came to visit. Something small but it warmed your heart to think you were on his mind so much that he thought of you when he saw these objects as you thought of him when you saw them in your shop

He would send you letters, completely unnecessary when he had your number but Mihawk was an old fashioned lover. They would always start with “To my (your name)” a sense of possessiveness, but they would always end with “yours, Dracule Mihawk”. They would be about his daily life, obviously avoiding the more violent parts, but would wax poetic about the serene view of the sea or the bustling islands he visited that he would wish for you to be there with him

That didn’t mean he didn’t love teasing you as well

Moments where he would touch your back were met with your face turning to fire, he would notice and you could barely make out a smirk. Every time his touch would linger when he would hand you something he would insist to get for you or when he would compliment your abilities, whether it be bookkeeping or a particular idea he hadn't thought about before in a book just to see you stutter and smile

You loved to talk books with him. He was shockingly insightful to the depth of the shitty romance novels that only he and you seemed to see. You would both talk for hours about the deep connection between characters and the subtle exchanges between them that would make you go insane. It reminded you of someone else in real life.

“So, did you finally finish that book I recommended? You’ve only had it for forever” you whined to him

“Oh yes sorry, I was too busy actually doing my job unlike those who just read at theirs” you could almost see his amused face on the other line

You met with his ward when he would bring you to his castle for an at home dinner date. Perona would always try to steal you away to dress you up or gossip but Mihawk was always there to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed. With just a glance in his direction your eyes could communicate what you felt

The best part of being at his castle was when after supper he would gently grasp your hand and lead you into the forest. The gentle sounds of owls hooting and crickets chirping serenaded your walk to the clearing he always brought you to to gaze at the stars. Laying down a blanket and guiding your hand to lay down, he would point out the constellations and their stories to you, waxing poetic about stories of lovers who couldn’t bear to be apart, forever entwined in the embrace of the sky. You couldn’t help but imagine what that all consuming love would feel like

Mihawk was not one to give his heart lightly, which is why you felt so special to be in this moment with him. It was during one of these moments where you were both sitting up, gazing at the universe laid out before you when you turned towards Mihawk. He was already looking at you. With your previous partners you’ve never seen such softness and devotion, but with him-he made you feel like you were floating amongst the stars, the air sucked from your lungs as the background disappeared from your view.

He glanced down at your lips before slowly bringing a calloused hand to your jaw, a hand that could bring such destruction and death but was always so careful around you. You couldn't help but lean into its warmth.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “May I?” he whispered, his voice barely audible against the drumming of your own heart. You somehow managed to gain back control of your body as you nodded furiously, before you could mentally curse yourself for looking so eager, as his lips meet yours. You feel a spark of electricity as your lips connect. It was like lightning had struck you. All powerful and all consuming. Your eyes widen before they close as you lean in closer, trying to meld your bodies into one.

His lips brush your forehead before he pulls away, his touch confident but gentle as he holds both your jaw and your heart in his hands. Beneath the canopy of the stars, he envelops you in his arms and it feels like every thought, every worry disappeared as long as you were with him

[sugar-omi]

a request for baxter x cove ship from *this anonie  i didn't think i'd get this one done in time. i had like.. 2-3 different ideas on this one... but it ended up like this, and now you have to wait until next year for part 2 🙊

DAY FOURTEEN — Camshow [ baxter + cove ]

tags : NSFW, no reader, camboy baxter, dom/bottom baxter, sub/top cove, caught in the act, masturbation,

synposis : cove didn't know exactly what baxter did for work, he just knew that he had a specific chest in his room he was banned from touching, steaming equipment and sound proofing in his room, and a simple request for cove to avoid his room after midnight.

which isn't a problem, cove isn't a night owl and he sleeps like a rock. but tonight.. he just can't get to sleep, maybe jerking off once or twice will knock him out. he didn't plan to stubble upon his roommates camboy account. and he definitely didn't mean to get off to it..

[ kinktober '24 masterlist | ao3 ]

this has to be against some kind of law, or against some moral code about watching your roommate get off in front of an audience, talking dirty to them and enjoying every plea for more or degrading comment about how filthy baxter is for showing his ass to the camera, slowly working himself open as he prepares to take a dildo.

but cove just can't look away.

he had every intention not to click on it, he really did. but cove knows those deep brown eyes from anywhere, that pale skin and inky black hair and the mask does nothing to hide the fact that cove knows that face.

his heart is beating against his chest, every inch of common sense screaming at him to stop thinking about baxter, to stop insinuating that this guy could possibly be baxter.

it's rude, it's disrespectful right? it's.. it's him.

cove feels something crash on him, he can't tell if it's embarrassment or something akin to it for finding out his roommates.. occupation. or if it's something else, but he has a feeling it's a little bit of both..

"you guys are so demanding." baxter laughs, the sound cutting through cove's headphones and straight into his ears. it's almost chilling how clear he can hear baxter's voice.

it's a bit muffled through the mask, but he knows. he knows what baxter sounds like.

cove squirms up his bed, propping more of his body against his pillows. even though he's heavy with shame, he can't deny he's turned on...

and it must be the lack of sleep these past few nights that's clouding his judgment, because cove tugs on his pants down just enough to pull his hardening cock out, taking himself in his fist and watching baxter's fingers slowly and hypnotically spread his hole open, scissoring and pumping them in and out, letting a few quiet moans fall from his lips that the mic just barely picks up..

cove looks over at the wall he and baxter share like he's trying to see past his fish tank, poster, and through the wall.

on the other side... baxter is bent over his bed with a camera pointed towards his flushed milky skin, capturing how his fingers stretch himself open, showing baxter's thousand and some viewers how lube runs down his thigh and how his legs quiver.

cove sees someone saying how they'd love to bite baxter where the mole on the back of his thigh is, and he can't help but think "fuck.. i want that too.." already imagining baxter with his legs propped up on cove's shoulders, cove's lips magnetizing towards every beauty mark on baxter's body and leaving hickeys there like he's drawing lines to constellations.

"okay.. that's enough." baxter announces in his smooth voice, a bit breathy, the sound flowing like honey through the audience's headphones and igniting a fire in them if the "i could listen to your voice all day" and the filthy comments about making baxter moan is anything to go by.

baxter leans back against the pillows, hitting a button on his computer to switch camera to the one facing his bed.

"now.. lets try this monster you guys begged me to use." baxter teases his audience, reaching over to grab the toy and starts lubing it up.

cove swallows, slowing down the pace of his fist around his cock, watching with bated breath as baxter prepared to take the toy.

the toy is certainly different from a basic dildo, curved with a girthy knot at the base with thick ridges thinning out the closer it gets to the head, and a comically thick vein going up the side of the shaft.

cove flushes. he didn't know baxter was into those type of things.. well, how could he, because he definitely didn't know or even consider that he was a camboy.

"mmng.." baxter moans, his fist curling into the pillow by his head as he sinks the head of the toy past his wet, puffy rim..

cove bites his lip to hold back the groan building at the base of his throat, slowly stroking his cock head, tightening his grip around his length. god, what he wouldn’t give to be in the place of that toy.

he wonders what sounds baxter would make, what he’d look like when cove sank his cock in to the base. he’d feel better than that toy, right? paired with his lips on baxter’s long neck, his hands pulling baxter against his body..

“god..” baxter gasps, his back arching and forcing a moan from him when the toy sinks deeper because of his movement. “this.. this toy is really thick..” baxter pushes the dildo deeper, the knot just a couple inches away from pushing back his rim..

cove pumps his fist around his cock faster, panting, trying to keep a moan or grunt from slipping past his lips.

baxter takes a moment to adjust to the girth and shape of the toy, exhaling out in a breathy laugh that the ridges of the toy are pressing against his good spots. “‘push it in already, pretty boy.’” baxter reads a comment and he looks at the camera through hooded eyes. “you really wanna see me take this knot, huh?”

he tightens his grip on the base of the toy, and he starts thrusting the toy in and out of his hole slowly, then slammed it in down to the knot, producing a loud, feminine moan from baxter’s throat. cove stiffens, realizing he could hear baxter’s moan through the wall.. clearly baxter’s new soundproofing wasn’t good enough.

he throws his head back against the pillows, letting baxter’s little moans and snarky comments to his chat fill his ears.

“-so good..” baxter groans, pumping the toy in and out at a quick pace, angled it up so it hits his g-spot when he thrusts the toy back in. “it-” baxter swallows thickly, gasping. “it’s rubbing against all my sensitive spots.” he cries, giving shallow thrusts of the toy into his wet insides, the slick sound from all the lube echoing through the audience's headphones, comments about baxter’s “filthy cunt” filling the chat.

baxter's hand falls to his cock, quickly stroking his length as he pushes the toy in, moaning loudly. "god-damn!" baxter cries, and cove can hear the bump when baxter's jolting makes the headboard hit the wall. "the tip- it's, mngh! it's pressing against my prostate..!" he whimpers, and you can just barely see tears pulling at the bottom of baxter's eyelashes from the pleasure..

"take that knot in your slutty hole" cove reads the comment as it pops up with a donation. baxter reads it too.

"nng.. thank- thank you for the donation." baxter forces out, not pausing or slowing down his movements as he reads the comment, the toy bullying his insides, the thick knot at the base pushing against baxter's butt but not quite pushing in.

baxter cries out loudly sometimes from it, the knot of the toy trying to push its way into baxter's pliant hole occasionally from his tough thrusts. he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing with the movement. "fuck- well, with such a generous donation.." baxter whines in the middle of his sentence, trying to pull himself together to look presentable but he just looks like a desperate mess.

"lets try to fit this knot inside me.." he sits up, stopping his movements so he can try to get comfortable before taking the toy. his lips press together, trying to hold back a moan as he pulls the toy out, shuffling and squirming before he finally settles on presenting his ass to the camera, laying his upper half against the pillows.

baxter spreads his legs, trying to calm his trembling thighs as he starts to push the head of the toy past his rim, his body easily accepting the toy, his pretty insides enveloping every ridge and bump on the dildo, his moans trembling as he takes it to the base.

cove gives his cock a long strong, his cock throbbing as he feels himself getting closer and closer to coming.. he doesn't want to finish yet, but fuck he's pretty sure he could come just from seeing baxter work the knot of this toy into his perfect insides.

cove licks his lips. he knows he can't look baxter in the eyes normally after this, he's ruined. and he knows the shame and guilt will hit him after he comes, he's sure of it.

but fuck if he isn't drowning in fantasies of his lips on baxter's thighs and his bigger hands pulling baxter's ass apart as he eats him out or watches the way baxter takes his cock.

and the way his cock throbs and a groan rolls past his lips because the image of baxter's pale skin turning red from the force of cove's thrust is too great.

baxter's thighs shake as he starts to push the toy against his hole, the knot slowly pushing against his insides.

the chat encourages him, not that he could see it from his position, but it's the thought that counts. he knows such gentleness won't get the knot in, and baxter all but forces the knot into his hole, his handle on it immediately falling.

he whines loudly, his thighs trembling as he adjusts to the new girth.

the chat floods with comments about how pretty baxter looks stuffed full with the dildo, cooing about how pretty his whines are and how they wish they were there to give his pretty ass a few spanks, that he'd be prettier with a bruised ass to go with his stuffed hole and leaking cock.

cove's eyes are locked in on the scenery too, and he hates that he shares the sentiment with baxter's chat because he wishes this scene was for his eyes only, no one elses..

it's a selfish desire, he knows that. but fuck if he doesn't wish he could take the place of baxter's chat and devour every inch of porcelain skin and full lips.

baxter gathers himself, finally being able to bring himself to take the toy in his shaky hand and he starts moving it, pulling the knot out until only the tapered tip is inside him..

baxter slams the toy back in, knot included this time, forcing a loud moan from him. he doesn't know it, but cove heard that one for sure, the sound whorish and pathetic.

he keeps thrusting the toy, in and out, pushing it against all his good spots and whining at how the knot stretches him open. baxter doesn't even need to give his cock any attention because of all the pleasure he's feeling from the toy, his flushed cock hanging between his legs and leaking pre.

cove glances at the chat, and he sees a few people coo about how sweet his leaking cock is, or how they wish they could suck him off while he gets fucked.

"fuck! i'm gonna-" baxter whimpers, his face buried in the pillows and his ass arched in the air as he keeps slamming the toy in and out of his ass, pressing the head against his g-spot. "i'm cumming! fuck, i'm cumming!"

cove strokes his cock faster, pre running over his fists as he gets closer and closer to the edge, trying to time his orgasm with baxter's.

baxter's cock drools on the sheets, a pool of pre connected by a steady river from his straining cock. his cock twitches as the knot pushes past his rim, baxter gives shallow thrusts of the toy in and out of his hole, and his last thrust must've hit that magic spot because he blows his load all over his fresh bed sheets, his thighs trembling and a series of whiny moans falling from his lips and hardly being muffled by the pillow.

baxter's body trembles as he cums, his hole tightening around the length and knot of the toy, trying to stifle his sounds when he finally gathers the strength to pull the toy out of his tender insides..

cove slaps his palm over his mouth, muffling his moan as he spills his cum all over his fist, thick ropes of cum painting his fingers and making an increasingly slick sound with every stroke of his cock as he works through his orgasm.

"that.. fuck." baxter laughs, his back facing the camera as he takes some tissues from the box off screen. he turns around to face the camera, revealing his flushed face, the mask clinging to his cheeks from the sweat.

baxter starts to talk to his chat, but cove leaves the browser after baxter ends the stream.

cove drops his phone, his earbuds still in his ears so all he can hear is the hard beating of his heart and blood rushing through his ears. he.. he really did that.. he.. got off to his friend and roommates camshow…

cove knows he should feel more shame for such debauchery on his part, baxter doesn’t know after all, and he clearly didn’t want cove to know. but.. he definitely doesn’t have enough shame because he’s still fucking hard, and the only thing on his mind is baxter.

he can’t sleep in the end because all cove can see if baxter’s pale, blushing skin, the way he spread his legs and exposed his pliant body, his cock hanging so fucking prettily between his legs..

and he can almost hear baxter’s moans in his ears again, the memory of seeing baxter split open on that dildo is at the front of cove’s mind and he curses himself for it…how the hell is he going to face baxter, now?

[lu-zijing]

Soooooo, me and @cherllyio looked through some scenes in the ~ LMK S5 trailer ~ again, and stopped by this specifically scene yet again:

Credit to "@SimplyRemarkable" on YouTube for uploading the trailer

Who Is MK Attacking???

Cherrlyio (aka Cory) was like the first time we saw it and said again: "That kinda looks like Li Jing, you know, The one MK is attacking." And I was also like the first time we saw it and said again: "Hmm, are you sure?? I don't know, it could be, but who knows? It's so blurry." Cory: "Well, maybe.. I guess it could be something else, but still." Me: "Fair enough."

((I think they made a post about the whole thing- Go check out their channel, they got good stuff—))

*Us looking through the trailer again today-*

Imagine that whole conversation again- and THEN—

Me: "hm.. I'm still not sure... Waiiiiiittttt-- Dosn't it kinda look like the Black Tortoise? It's feet, I mean."

Me: "The one who was likely also present in the scene right before?~"

Cory: "....OHSHI——"

Me:"（￣︶￣）"

Cory: "SHIT YOU'RE RIGHT——!!! w(ﾟДﾟ)w"

So yeah... THIS MIGHT NOT BE LI JING AFTER ALL!!!??

Cory: "Ah damn, I just made a post about it being Li Jing...."

Yes, I'm bragging a little bit over for Cory—

It could just be that the angle turned after that first picture we see the Black Tortoise in, where it is behind the kneeling Mk.

Because, it is not behind MK any longer, in the scene where he is seemingly attacking it.

And it could even be in this scene too-!

Where - in that case - we see Sandy seemingly attacking it??

Credit to @deliveryboysomewhatequaltoheaven For pointing that detail out!

---

And here comes a theory: ~~

The Black Tortoise is one of Four Mythological Creatures that appear in Chinese Philosophy/Astrology.

Picture 1: http://www.ianridpath.com/startales/chinese.html

Picture 2: https://www.mapcompanion.org/constellations-song-dynasty/

It is usually represented with a snake coiled around it's body, but I mean - We haven't gotten one good look at it in the trailer, so that doesn't mean it can't be what we saw in LMK

Soo huuh~? Could it be that they are appearing in LMK??

If you wanna know more about them @deliveryboysomewhatequaltoheaven seems to have made some posts about it! I didn't know they had also noticed it, so go check that out if you can't wait!!

Because I am also currently making a video about it, hoping to be posted in the near future on YouTube, A continuation of my collab with @cherllyio "The ULTIMATE Breakdown of the Season 5 Trailer" (on YouTube)

So You might ask... Even if it actually is a black turtle, how do you know it's the one from the Four Mythological Creatures in Chinese Culture??

WELL, ma bud ~ Because there IS proof that ALL THE OTHER THREE CREATURES actually appeared in the trailer-!!!

You wanna know what~? []~(￣▽￣)~*

*Psssst* Then here-! Take a quick little sneak peak at the video in process~~

An Azure Dragon:

A White Tiger:

A Vermillion Bird:

AND the Black Tortoise:

As It seems very likely that we have seen three, if not ALL four of them . . .

-It would make quite a lot of sense that these four creatures who are appearing in the trailer IS INDEED the Four Auspicious Beasts Yes, they got many names, google it- from the Chinese Constellations.......!!!!?OAUFR）EKWNADOIFNKAAODNKFLF——！！？？?

But WAIT! I'm not done yet--

Here's ONE more detail that we're gonna cover in that video I mentioned~ :

These characters are wearing White Tiger accessories AND holding an Azure Dragon, instead of an red-gold Dragon that is usually held during Chinese Lunar New Year, which this could very well be..?

Even if it actually IS a thing to use Azure Dragons too, it IS a little suspicious they BOTH have an Azure Dragon and things that represents a WHITE TIGER..?

I'm pretty sure orange tigers is more usual too, just like red-gold Dragon is more common in China as well.

Sooooo~~~

What do you Think~?

If you're interested in that video, where me and Cory will be covering more details and some basic knowledge about these Four Creatures, Then keep an eye out on my Blog!

I will defintely Post an Update here. And Cory will do so too, as it is a Collab~

Well, that was all for now!

Just realised this is the first time ever I made a long theory post like this—

I like it

Cory: "...........*sighs in tiredness, after making so many long theory-posts at this point already...*"

Hope You found it interesting..!

[marigold-hills]

Dunes & Waters, part 19

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

Remus watches Sirius eat.

Sirius shouldn’t be eating, but he’s a sneaky one and managed to smuggle a bag of dates into the museum when Remus wasn’t looking. He gets snacky, he said when he took them out and put them on his desk. Helps him think, having something to chew on.

Remus should not be watching Sirius eat. For his own self preservation, really. Not when the dates are sticky and Sirius licks them off his fingers. There’s a hint of teeth, a flash of tongue. Remus is pretty sure he would hate seeing anyone else do this, but on Sirius… he still hates it, but for different reasons. It’s obscene. His mouth opens and his fingers enter it and each time, Remus has a vivid, gut-pulling, earth-shattering reminder of the dream he had. Has to bite the inside of his own cheek to stop from moaning.

It’s been an unproductive day. He’s stuck on a translation of a word from the 30th sequence of the tomb-chapel of Rekhmira. There are some Muggle translations but none of them makes sense within the context of what Remus knows and what the Muggles wouldn’t: Rekhmira is a key.

Hng r.k mxA.i n.k r.k r qsw.k

Your mouth is ..., I measure your mouth for you to your bones

Sirius, despite emptying his stash of snacky brain food, is also getting nowhere with the Box.

“Let’s finish for today,” he says, “it’s almost midnight.”

“Run out of food, did you?”

“Yes,” a grin with so many pretty white teeth, “and I want to feed Ziggy. Poor thing’s been alone for hours.”

They walk through a night-quiet Aswan. It’s clear, star-lit, moon-bright.

“There’s my star,” Sirius point out, “bright, aren’t I?”

“That you are,” Remus answers, “very pretty.”

Sirius points out constellations as they walk, the main star in each. There’s Leo, and Regulus, it’s heart. There’s Cassiopeia, the Stag.

“And look, Aquila. Like on your Box. But it’s Altair, the Eagle’s eye, that’s the brightest, not…” he stops dead, arm he was using to point towards the sky suddenly limp by his side.

“Sirius?”

“It’s the Falcon.”

Remus wants to ask more but there is something so wonderful about watching Sirius put pieces together. He’s loath to disturb it and scared to move – he knows the face of breakthrough. He knows how easy a thread of new thought can be broken.

“Aquila was the falcon of Horus in Egypt, not an Eagle - that’s Greek. And the red star, Alshain, on the Box - it’s the peregrine, also the falcon.”

Sirius breaks eye contact with the sky, looks to Remus, bright and elated. “The whole Box is a multi level riddle, like your bloody crosswords.”

They turn back to the Museum.

It’s strange walking through the ward and into a sun lit room straight from a dark night outside. Confuses something in Remus’ time perception. It’s a liminal space, this office of theirs, where nothing is real but the two of them and what they work on. Remus gets lost in it. Could spend days in it. Work away the nights.

Sirius transfigures a blank sheet of paper into an enormous blackboard. Draws the Box on it – an approximation of it, three dimensional son flat canvas, all sharp edges and quick, overlapping lines.

“There are constellations here,” he points to one of the edges, draws an arrow to it, “and here.”

Aquila, he writes, the Falcon. “We know this. On the other side is Lupus, the Wolf.” More arrows, more notes. “But Lupus has no named stars… so what’s the clue here?”

Remus does no work of his own, just watches the storm in front of him and lets it sweep him along. Thinks just how bloody lucky he’s gotten that the convict he pulled out of prison has an in-depth knowledge of star systems. Cringes at it because calling Sirius this now? Unthinkable. Senseless.

He tries to imagine it. Sirius, hurting all those people. Can’t: even in the midst of an attack, Sirius didn’t hurt Remus, only himself. He’s been so gentle. With Ziggy. With Remus. It makes no sense, that somebody could be both.

More writing. Lupus underlined, and below it: Wolf. Roman: Bestia. Greek: Therium. Babylon: Mad Dog – UR.IDIM.

Then a drawing, something with a head of a man and body of a wolf.

Sirius draws back. Thinks about it. Summons a book of deities and it flies into his hands. “I’m missing something.”

Then he’s quiet for a while, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He’s a beautiful mess.

“That’s Anubis and Wepwawet on the front. They’re both dog gods, but that makes no sense…”

“Wepwawet is a wolf,” Remus interrupts.

It’s dangerous, now, with the disfigured human drawn on the board, how close Sirius is to figuring out the core of the research. Remus knows it, and he sees in Sirius’ eyes that he does, too.

“It’s time you give me another piece of information, Remus. The missing link.”

Remus knows he’s right. To have a chance at figuring this out, he has to know just why the Box stroke his interest. He was hoping to delay it. He was hoping not to do it at all. And Sirius was so good, he got so much of it already – more than Remus has, more than anyone since the Box had been found. Falcon. Bestia. Dog-Man.

“I’m studying werewolves.”

NEXT PART

NOTES:

Does this make sense? It makes sense to me but that could be because I know the big picture.

extra long chapter today to make up for missing yesterday :)

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 16: stargazing

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

You let out a sigh of satisfaction when you finished preparing the back of your father's pickup truck, after several minutes and a lot of effort to stretch the blankets enough. There was a mat, a duvet, sheets, and plenty of pillows so the two of you would be comfortable on the date you had prepared for your boyfriend. Spencer had told you about a meteor shower that occurred every ten million years and that on this occasion would be visible in the region, so he believed it would be a sin not to take advantage of the night to see it together and, in the process, spend a nice time between you. You seemed very excited about the idea and had prepared food to spend the hours that you were going to wait and, of course, a thermos full of coffee to share.

“How does it look?”

“It's perfect,” he replied happily.

He had been busy reviewing some celestial maps that he carried with him, under the light of a flashlight that you had in the trunk. You were in a remote section of the countryside and without all the light pollution of the city the stars could be seen in their maximum splendor, which had you completely fascinated. You had never done an activity like this and you knew how much Spencer was excited about astronomy, so the idea that he wanted to share that with you made you feel special.

You climbed up to the space you had arranged and he immediately imitated you, where both of you sat with your back comfortably leaning on a pair of pillows. You pulled a blanket to cover your legs and those of your boyfriend, who soon intertwined them to shorten the distance.

“I assume you know the constellations, right?”

"I do! At this time of year several can be seen. Like that one over there that is shaped like a trapezoid with a tail, do you see it?” he asked, pointing to a specific point in the sky. You had to admit that you weren't the best at finding shapes in celestial bodies, but you tried with all your might, until you finally understood what he was referring to “That's the Big Dipper, it's the third largest constellation and it's visible for all year round in the northern hemisphere, in addition to being one of the best known and most important in astronomical history. It has eight stars, one of them visible only in very clear places like this and they are called Alkaid, Mizar, Alioth, Megrez, Phecda, Merak, and Dubhe”

“There is a myth in Greek mythology about it, isn't there?”

“Yes, Greek mythology considered Ursa Major to be the bear that Callisto had been turned into by Artemis after being seduced by Zeus. Homer mentions the Bear in Canto V of the Odyssey, in which Ulysses tries in vain to be guided by her to return to Ithaca, his land”

“Wow,” you sighed, as you continued to look up to admire the stars your boyfriend was telling you about.

“When I was a child, I asked for a telescope as a birthday gift and this was the first constellation I learned because if you follow a line a little higher you can find the polar star… that one over there, do you see it?”

"I see it"

“That star serves to guide you because it always points north, so no matter where you are you can find your way if you find it. That way I imagined that whenever I was lost, I could come back home” he confessed to you, with a nostalgic smile on his face.

You stopped seeing the celestial sky to focus on him and you couldn't stop yourself from kissing him when you saw the sparkle in his eyes watching you with enthusiasm. The kiss was gentle and short, just as if you wanted to reward him for his eloquence, and then you settled under his arm with your head resting on his soft chest.

“You probably know a few thousand facts about the stars, or am I wrong?”

“I have never counted them, but from the books I have read I can assure you that it is an approximate amount”

“Well, we still have a few hours until the rain starts so start spitting them all out. I want Sagan to feel threatened in the afterlife by my knowledge of the universe at dawn” you joked and the soft laugh he let out above your head was like music to your ears.

Spencer talked and talked and you listened attentively to everything he had to tell you, only interrupting him to ask questions or to ask him to eat a little or try his cup of coffee. In the same way, you were changing positions as the hours went by, sometimes lying down, sitting, other times he with his head resting on your shoulder, and you even went so far as to sit on his lap, with your back comfortably against his torso while that he spoke kindly in your ear.

"You are tired? Bored?"

“None of that, love” you smiled. Right now you were lying in front of each other, with him absentmindedly tangling a lock of your hair in his finger “It's the most interesting date I've ever had in my life.”

“And it's going to get better, because it's the scheduled time for the main show,” he murmured in a theatrical voice, while he sat down and helped you with one hand so that you were in the same position.

He hadn't lied, because after a few minutes he saw the first star crossing the sky. You gasped in surprise like a little girl would, and your shock only intensified when another star sped past. Suddenly dozens of stars imitated the first ones and your smile grew as a new one appeared.

"Look how beautiful!" you squealed, shaking your shoulder excitedly at your lover, who was smiling the same way you were. “It’s wonderful.”

Spencer felt the need to hug you from the side to enjoy the view and the company at the same time, while you continued to look at the sky with fascination.

“We are experiencing a unique event in our space-time,” he whispered, the words slightly muffled by his lips in your hair. “And… I wanted to give you something equally unique.”

Suddenly you felt his hand take yours and then a metallic object sliding down your ring finger, forcing you to stop looking at the sky to look at him, with an expression of nothing but shock.

“Spencer, what—?”

“It's not what you think,” he hastened to say. You looked at the jewel and realized that it was a delicate ring that was completely smooth and silver in color. “It is a promise ring, it is used to… well, to promise a loved one that at some point it will be replaced by one that involves a greater commitment," he explained to you, suddenly becoming a nervous wreck "I thought about giving it to you today because I love you so much and I wanted you to know that I would like to go further with you, if you accept me”

"Darling…"

"Do you like it?" he insisted and you were forced to drown his fears with a prolonged kiss on the lips.

“Of course it does. I love you so, so much and you don't know how happy this makes me, I wouldn't want to be with anyone else in the vast universe. I'm serious"

That was enough of an answer for him and then you settled down again to enjoy the rest of the astronomical phenomenon, knowing that you would only be able to forget that night when the time necessary to witness another of those meteor showers had passed.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

[sundeathh]

What about an imagine or hc about aizawa 'n s/o sharing their interests like what they like to do in their free time, books they loved to read etc something fluffy c: thx

I might have gone way beyond your request. But, hey, this is also self-indulgent! Anyway, I loved your request. I hope it fulfills what you had in mind. Sorry for the long delay, but it is done now.

Head-canon  |  Masterlist 

Pairing: Aizawa × GN!reader | Words: 993

Fandom: BNHA | MHA  | Tags: Cute & fluffy

In your rare moments of free time, Aizawa and his significant other would find solace in the simple pleasures of life, embracing their shared interests and creating a warm, loving heaven together.

As you are both avid bookworms, you would often cuddle up on the couch, each engrossed in your own novel. The room filled with the soft rustling of pages here and there, and every so often, you'd exchange a knowing glance, silently sharing the joy of a good story.

Cooking was another shared passion of yours. You would tackle intricate recipes, laughing at your culinary mishaps and celebrating your triumphs with soft cheers and known, loving glances.

Aizawa, surprisingly adept at chopping vegetables, would take charge of the savory dishes, while you would knack for baking meant a never-ending supply of delicious desserts.

Even mundane tasks like doing the laundry or cleaning the apartment became enjoyable when you did them together. You'd playfully argue about the most efficient way to fold laundry or who could scrub the dishes cleanest, all the while secretly reveling in the shared domesticity of it all.

Yet, beyond books and cooking, you found common ground in your love for stargazing. On clear nights, you'd lay a blanket on a rooftop, snuggling close under a blanket while tracing constellations and making up your own stories about the stars.

You also cherished the differences in your hobbies. While Aizawa might spend hours lost in a new mystery novel, you might be immersed in painting or sketching. you'd sit together, companionable in your silence, each respecting the other's passion.

Friday nights were designated movie nights. You'd take turns picking films and introducing each other to your favorite genres. Aizawa's penchant for action movies clashed amusingly with your love for romantic comedies, resulting in an eclectic movie list.

Sometimes, your most cherished moments were the ones where you merely sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of your shared existence. You didn't need words to express your love; the presence alone was enough.

And as night would fall and the world would get quieter, you'd have heartfelt conversations about life, dreams, fears, and everything in between. Aizawa, usually a man of few words, found himself opening up more than he ever thought possible. And so did you.

You frequently surprised each other with little gestures of love. Aizawa might leave a cup of your favorite tea by your bedside when you had a rough day, while you would sneak love notes into Aizawa's attire pockets before he headed off to work.

You also respected each other's need for alone time. Aizawa might find solace in a quiet corner, lost in thought or grading papers, while you would pursue your artistic hobbies, creating your tranquil oasis.

On free weekends, sometimes you'd embark on nature walks, exploring the serene beauty of parks and local forests. Aizawa's observant nature meant he'd point out unusual flora and fauna while you captured the scenery through your camera lens.

You also compiled playlists of your favorite songs, making a blend of your music tastes. Whether it was Aizawa's preference for classic rock or your love for indie bands, your shared playlists were the soundtrack of your lives together.

Sometimes, you would also work out together. Staying healthy was an important goal for both of you. You'd engage in light workouts together, cheering each other on during yoga sessions or jogging through the neighborhood. Your laughter would echo through the air as you challenged each other to push harder, engaging in playful competition.

While you were both competitive, you always stuck to the playful part of it. You would indulge in board games on cozy evenings. Aizawa's strategic mind shone during chess matches while you reveled in the unpredictability of card games, creating delightful tension between you two.

Tending to the small garden you both had on the balcony became a joint project. Aizawa had a surprising green thumb, nurturing the plants with care while you added artistic touches with colorful flowers, painted vases, and other whimsical decorations.

Arts and crafts will always bring out your creative sides to life. You'd spend free afternoons painting, crafting, or even knitting, creating personalized gifts for each other or their friends, each piece a symbol of your shared love and content.

Occasionally, you'd embark on more spontaneous outdoor adventures. From impromptu picnics in the park to exploring nearby hiking trails, you savored the thrill of discovering new places hand in hand.

Late at night, you'd lie in bed, discussing your dreams and aspirations. Aizawa would share his goals with his students while you would talk about your artistic and work ambitions. In those quiet moments, you found inspiration in each other.

Random acts of kindness were a must between you two. From volunteering at local animal shelters to leaving surprise treats for your closest friends. Your shared altruism strengthened your bond even further and reminded you of the beauty in giving.

Sometimes, during quiet nights, you'd turn on some slow music and dance around your living room, shedding your accumulated stress and relying on each other's arms.

You often talked about your dream destinations and future travels. Aizawa, who had seen little of the world, would always listen with wonder to your travel stories, your shared excitement fueling your wanderlust.

Together, you planned your future, imagining a life filled with love, growth, and shared adventures. Your dreams intertwined, painting future moments where you continued to cherish each other, hand in hand.

In the tapestry of your shared lives, every moment was a thread that added depth and color to your relationship. You and Aizawa frequently cherished the uniqueness of your bond, celebrating your shared interests and the beautiful harmony you found in their differences.

Your love was a testament to the beauty of a life filled with shared moments and unwavering support, knowing that love wasn't just about grand gestures but the beauty of ordinary moments together.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! Check the fixed post for requests & more details!

[aziraphales-library]

Hey! I love love love reading unrequited love, and although obvi their love is utterly mutual they don’t necessarily know that sooo

If you know any, could you recommend me some fics were Crowley is ‘pining’ for Azi?

They don’t need to have a happy ending where they get together (might even prefer without) but can do!

Anyways love ur blog tysm :)

These are hard to find! Most are not actually unrequited love. I found a few with hurt/no comfort, and a couple of longer ones where they do end up together in the end, but there is a lot of feeling unloved, pining, and angst before they get there.

i wanna fade away (with you) by Lilyofthevalley26 (G)

Armageddon had come, and Armageddon had passed. They didn’t have head offices to report to anymore. They were free agents. A new emotion joined the others in his chest. It felt like hope.

No Problem by LeotheLionathefootofOrion (M)

No problem, Crowley thinks. No problem at all. Anything for you. Even after two months of radio silence and not even a message on my birthday. No problem. - x - The whole friends with benefits thing really isn’t doing Crowley any favours.

Microcosms by oceantears (G)

“So, Alpha Centauri,” Crowley says, “you never did go there with me. Why? Jus’ not- Not wanting to stick it to Heaven? Still believing in the greater good and all? Not wanting only me for the rest of eternity, afraid you’d get bored of me?” It’s honesty and fear disguised as barely a jab, barely a joke, and they both know it. Crowley can call the stars into existence, but he cannot successfully hide 6,000 years of loneliness and longing and pain. Aziraphale only looks at him for a moment. If he tried, Crowley thinks helplessly, he could find constellations in the angel’s eyes. He could find another universe in them, one entirely untouched by God and Heaven and Hell. One that could be theirs, if only Aziraphale allowed it to be. “Neither,” Aziraphale finally says, “I just- I was afraid. And I… Well. I always found reaching for the stars a rather pointless endeavour when I already have everything I want right here.” Crowley takes a deep, shuddering breath and makes himself say it. Makes his tongue move and form those words they both know so well but have not had the courage to say out loud yet. “But you didn’t,” he forces out, “you didn’t want me. You still don’t.”

Attempts At Healing by alcyme (T)

Imagination can only get you so far. And then there are things not powerful enough to make it to reality. Like feelings of love. Time mends all wounds and that includes a broken heart. After all, what is healing than just reversing time. It would be a shame if The First Healer can’t even heal himself.

Crowley and His Army of Grandmothers by burnt_oranges (NR)

Crowley had impulsively stopped by Artisan Du Chocolate, the next place on Aziraphale’s meticulously ordered list of chocolatiers to sample, and now Crowley wonders--is it too much? He had bought a hundred fucking pounds’ worth of chocolate, of course it’s too much, but would Aziraphale notice that it was too much? That is the question.

Warmth by indigo (E)

Friends with benefits really had to be the very best solution there was for any self-respecting immortal being on Earth. Handy. Convenient. The perfect way to de-stress with none of the hassle of trying to find a human willing to overlook the more demonic parts of appearance. It was reliable. Comforting even. Dependable, emotionless relief. Perfect, Crowley thought. Right up until the point when, well, it wasn’t.

- Mod D