#i was giggling so much at the brain
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
There are two wolves inside of me for this scene before the big boss fight at the end of Act 2.
One is dying of feels over the dialogue options with Gale, and him deciding to choose you over everything else.
The other one is dying for a completely different reason
as all three of the big bads of this game start raising their rings to the sky, and shouting out their element
THIS IS THE FUCKING ABSOLUTE??? THIS??? Not the giant mass of tentacles that said my puny mortal self could never comprehend their being... but this absolutely silly looking brain with it's itty bitty wings and this glowing tiara from Claire's, like they're all about to go get shit faced for Absolute's bachelorette party?
A++++ I am here for this
#grey's bg3 tag#bg3 spoilers#bg3 posting#I'M SORRY#BUT I STARTED GIGGLING MADLY AT THAT STUPID BRAIN#it's so ridiculous i love it#please ignore the discrepancy of blood splatter#i was giggling so much at the brain#i forgot to get enough screencaps#and went back to get more#and was like 'wait i should wash this blood off'#and then once again forgot to get repeats#ari's og campaign
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
they're so in love im gonna throw up real quick
#in my defence i had warned you i was going to be the most annoying fucker on earth#what the fuck guys this is too much for my brain to process#they're so in love i want to jump from the balcony#LOOK AT THEM#this is after the blitz and aziraphale had the courage to say CROWLEY was going too fast#MY ANGEL IN CHRIST YOU'RE SO CLOSE TO GIGGLE AND TWIRL YOUR HAIR YOURSELF#michael sheen commiting to make the softest warmest most loving eyes every chance he gets#what and i cannot stress this enough the fuck#my dads (real)#tumblr text meme#tumblr text posts#good omens season two#good omens#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#user purrvaire
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
I HC Scarletella is smart enough to figure out MC's language and I'm currently brainrotting over an AU wherein he attempts to adapt a normal, human life. As normal as he can pretend to be, though, while getting closer to you. MC is a completely unassuming person by day and a serial killer by night who is freaked out by this random tall and mute redhead suddenly appearing in the oddest places. Simple coincidence doesn't explain any of it anymore. MC starts seriously considering murdering him too lest he foil their secret hobby, only to realize he may just be as fucked up as them...
#AND HE ENABLES MC what a king ❤️#I love dynamics where theyre both objectively horrible beings but they make each other so much worse#MMMM Brain Worms 🤤#homicipher#he'll still be named Scarletella and that's MC's first red flag cos whose sane mother would name their child like that#homicipher x reader#Mr. Scarletella x reader#Mr. Gap also terrorizes MC in this AU for the shits and giggles#Not sure how to put Mr. Crawly and the rest of them in but I'll figure that out#brainrottingz
570 notes
·
View notes
Text
working it out (on the remix)
pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x fem!reader
summary: you sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. you should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t going to get the three of you anywhere.
—or: three tennis players walk into a hotel room.
word count: 5.5k
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, smoking, fighting as foreplay, mean!reader my beloved, the patrick and art gay agenda, threesome, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!), not quite hate sex more like angry sex, double penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), choking, finger sucking, degradation, creampies, lowkey sub!patrick coded, switch!art ofc, porn with a plot, no use of y/n.
author’s note: oh em gee part three is here!!! i literally always say this but i had so much fun writing this one lol thank you so much for showing this series so much love right off the bat! i've loved loved loved reading all the ideas you guys have sent me for future chapters and trust when i say that i'll definitely be featuring as many as i can. okay bye! hope you love it! xoxo mwah.
tftw series masterlist!
Art is fuming. You keep glancing over at him to check that smoke isn't starting to blow out of his ears. It doesn't, but he's just as mad every time. Standing in the doorway huffing and puffing, arms crossed over his chest as he stares Patrick down from across the room.
Patrick is the complete opposite, all relaxed body language and easy half-smiles as he coolly stares back. You’d make a fire and ice joke if you didn’t think it would send Art over the edge.
He’s sitting in the room’s single chair, window cracked open so he can smoke. He’s practically naked, wearing an unbuttoned long sleeve and the tiniest boxers you’ve ever seen. His bare feet are propped up on the corner of the bed you’re sitting on.
You’re perched cross legged on the mattress, basically stuck in the middle of them.
You’re still surprised you even got Art to show up at all. You thought he almost flipped the table when you brought up Patrick at lunch, casually mentioning that you’ve been texting him for the past couple of days and you think the three of you need to talk. He was quiet for a long time before he finally asked if that meant Patrick was, has been, in town. You just shook your head yes.
You didn’t tell him you and Patrick slept together, you didn’t need to.
He went quiet again, stood up from his chair with an excuse of being late to class and stomped out of the dining hall. You texted him the address to Patrick’s hotel an hour later.
Art never responded, but his jeep was still waiting for you outside the biology building after your last lecture got out. He would always drive you back to your dorm since you’d get out so late, but this time he turned out of the campus lot and silently drove until you realized he was going to the hotel.
Now you’re here, and it's been almost ten minutes since you knocked on the door to Patrick’s room. And no one has said anything the entire time. No one has even moved, only Patrick every so often when he needs to flick his ashes out the window. A thick blanket of tense silence falls heavy over the three of you. It makes the room’s temperature feel that much hotter. The shitty air conditioner hums faintly in the background.
“So,” you say slowly, voice finally piercing through the quiet, “Am I gonna have to be the first to talk again or–”
“God, I don’t know,” Art cuts in tersely, not looking away from Patrick as he does, ”I can’t believe I don’t have anything to say to the guy that fucked my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Both you and Patrick ask sharply, opposing tones of shock and amusement blending together.
Art's eyes narrow, a storm brewing in the blue of them. He’s still looking at Patrick, talking about you like you’re not sitting right in front of him. "Yeah, my girlfriend. Did I stutter?" His chest is puffed out just enough for you to notice, his mouth pulled down at the corners in a deep frown.
You blink, caught off guard. Art’s never asked you to go steady with him, you’ve never even been on a date. Unless you count fucking in the back of his jeep at a drive in theater a date, then sure, you’ve been on one date. Regardless, the possessive timbre of his voice has something warm simmering under your skin.
Patrick laughs, loud and abrasive. “Well, this is fucking news to me,” he says through a chuckle, eyes flicking between the two of you bemusedly, “I didn’t realize you guys were playing house, but that does makes a lot more sense now.” He gestures to your chest with his free hand, pointing out the dark blue sweatshirt you’re wearing.
‘Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy’ is stitched across the front in thin black thread; you'd stolen it from Art’s closet when you slept over at his dorm a few nights ago. He never asked for it back.
“It’s cute that you kept my shirt, Donaldson.” Patrick teases, lolling his head to the side lazily so he can look at Art through his lashes. A plume of smoke billows from between his lips, slipping through the open window slowly. “Even after you tried to turn my girlfriend against me and fucked her behind my back first–”
“Fuck you, Patrick–” Art starts, face twisted in a scowl. His hands ball into fists at his side, jaw ticking with anger.
Patrick doesn’t look deterred, leaning forward in his chair as he tries to talk over Art, “You’re such a fucking hypocrite–”
“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend,” you cut them both off, brows drawn together in frustration, “—and I’m not going to let this turn into some weird pissing contest between you two. We’re here to talk.”
Art scoffs agitatedly, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Looks like the two of you have done plenty of talking without me,” he says bitterly. “Do you get off on this shit or something? On sticking your dick where it doesn’t fucking belong?”
Patrick smirks, leaning back in his chair, arms draped lazily over the armrests. “God, you really do think you’re innocent in this,” he laughs incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “You’re acting like you’ve got some moral high ground, but you don’t. You’re just as guilty of playing the game as I am.”
Art’s face darkens further, anger threatening to boil over. “This isn’t a game to me, Patrick,” he spits, tone hard and low, “I’m so sick of you treating everything like a goddamn joke.”
Patrick’s smirk doesn’t falter. “I never said it was a joke,” he says with a shrug, tone easy and nonchalant. “I’m just saying, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror before you start pointing fucking fingers. I’m not the only one who’s played dirty here.”
“Patrick–” you warn, sitting up straighter. You can feel the way the air changes, the way the animosity gets turned up. The last thing you need is for them to start throwing punches.
Art cuts you off, shaking his head in contempt. “You’re so full of shit. You don’t fucking care about her. You never did. You just want to win, because you can’t stand the thought of losing to me.”
Patrick groans loudly, throwing his head back with it. “We’re really going back to this again? Jesus Christ, give it up man. It’s not like she was ever really yours to begin with.” He takes another slow drag from his cigarette, eyes never leaving Art.
The jab hits its mark, you can see it on Art’s face. In the way he physically recoils, the way he takes a ragged breath through his nose, the way the muscles of his jaw work furiously. For the first time since you fucked Patrick, you feel like a fucking bitch. The familiar feeling of guilt wraps its tendrils around you, weighing you down into the mattress like a physical force.
It gives you an idea, the guilt. It's a filthy idea, one that has heat stirring between your legs at just the thought. It’s a good way to make this whole situation up to Art, a good way to let him get under Patrick’s skin the same way he’s getting under his.
You sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. You should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t getting the three of you anywhere.
You sigh, overly dramatic and long suffering, scooting down until your legs are hanging over the edge of the mattress. Art and Patrick watch you the entire time, eyes finally leaving each other to watch your hands settle on the hem of Patrick’s sweatshirt.
“You guys are being so difficult. Why did I think that you could behave enough to talk this out like big boys?” You tug it off in one swift move, tossing it to the side carelessly. Two sharp gasps ring out, two sets of greedy eyes roam the bare expanse of your torso. You hadn’t worn a bra today.
You smirk, standing from the mattress and hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your sweats. You push them down your legs slowly, making a show of it until you're only in the pair of light purple panties you slipped on this morning. Patrick smirks, flicking his cigarette butt out the window and yanking it closed. He goes to stand, Art pointedly takes a single threatening step forward as he does but you stop both of them in their tracks.
“No.” Your voice rings through the small room, loud and commanding. Patrick sits back down almost immediately, his brow raising in confusion. Art does the same, freezing with one foot in front of him. They’re both hard, cocks tenting the fabric of their bottoms. Their boners point towards each other, you bite your lip to hide your smile.
“You’ve been so bad, Ricky.” you scold softly, voice syrupy sweet as you lean back on the bed. “Dressed up like an easy whore in here waiting for us, being so mean to Art, fucking his girl…” You trail off boredly, palms braced flat on the bed behind you so you can lean back as casually as you can muster. You let your legs fall open, spread enough to let Patrick and Art see the wet spot slowly seeping into the fabric.
You can hear Art’s sharp inhale from across the room at your words, his girl. You’re still careful not to say girlfriend, that’s a whole other talk. Patrick squirms in his chair, practically itching with the need to say something. You level him with a hard look, a firm shake of your head keeps him quiet. When you finally turn your attention to Art, he meets your gaze easily, eyes already blown out and glassy. Even from here you can see the way his pupils swallow the pretty blue color.
You smile, lips curling up in a wicked smile. “Art,” you coo softly, reaching your hand out in offering, “come here.”
Art’s walking towards you without a second thought, crossing the room in just a few large steps. You smile at him, patting the spot next to you. The bed creaks as he sits down, the mattress dipping under his weight slides you closer to him. ”I think,” you say slowly, resting your hand high up on his thigh, so close to the hard line of his cock straining against the fabric, “that we need to teach Patrick a lesson on manners.”
“What! No fucking way, that’s bullshi–” Patrick fusses from the corner, sitting up straighter in seat, the armrest gripped tight in his left hand.
“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, whipping your head to the side to glare at him. “This isn’t about you.”
He frowns, pushing out his bottom lip like an actual child. You just barely fight the urge to roll your eyes, an evil smile spreading across your face as you watch him honest-to-God pout.
“This is about Art,” you slide your hand up higher, cupping him through his loose shorts. You can hear his sharp intake of breath, a quiet ‘fuck’ falls from his lips as you apply more pressure to where your hand is steadily rubbing him up and down. “Plus, you’re already in the cuck chair,” you aren’t able to stop the small chuckle that falls from your lips, “you’ve got a perfect view.”
His pink lips part ever so slightly, eyes going wide and hungry at your words. You throw him one last devilish smile before you’re sinking to your knees in front of the bed. The scratchy carpet digs into your knees but you don’t care, not when Art is towering in front of you with the ceiling lights shining around him like he’s an angel.
You smile up at him, dragging the palms of your hands up and down his thighs. “Take your shirt off,” you encourage, slipping your hands up to toy with the hem of his shorts.
He complies beautifully, pulling his shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the lean, toned muscles of his torso. You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, appreciating the sight before returning your attention to your task. Your fingers deftly undo the drawstring of his shorts, and start tugging them down. Art lifts his hips enough for you to drag them all the way down his legs, taking his boxers with them to free his hard cock.
Again, you slide your hands up the bare skin of his thighs, inches away from where he wants them. He’s so hard, cock standing straight up in an angry red line against his stomach. The tip drools pre-cum that leaks down the length of him slowly.
Art's breath hitches, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of anticipation and desperation. Your fingers brush lightly over his upper thighs, before you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat of his arousal pulse against your palm. His gasp is sharp, and you silently revel in the power you hold over him in this moment.
You glance over at Patrick, who is staring wide-eyed, his earlier irritation replaced with a raw, unfiltered hunger.
Your lips curl into a smug smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. “See something you like, Patrick?” you taunt, giving Art a slow, deliberate stroke that has him groaning softly. Patrick’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching, but he stays silent, his gaze locked on the two of you.
Art's hands grip the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white. "Fuck," he breathes out, his voice strained, "you're killing me."
You laugh softly, a dark, melodic sound, and lean forward, letting your tongue flick out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Art moans, the sound vibrating through you. You glance up at him through your lashes, seeing the way his head tilts back, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure.
You slide your lips up the length of his leaking cock, teasing and slow. Art stares down at you, not breaking eye contact as he breathes raggedly through his nose.
“Tell him how it feels,” you whisper against the pink tip of his cock, sliding it back and forth across your lips teasingly. Art swallows hard, skin flushing in embarrassment.
“So good…” he whispers, eyes still locked onto yours. His blush goes from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, spreading pink and warm across the strong muscle of his pecs.
You smile, shaking your head softly. “Don’t tell me, tell him.” You jerk your head in Patrick’s direction once before you sink down until your nose is nestled against the soft blonde hair at the base of his cock, working your throat around the length of him.
Art moans loudly, his hands coming up to tangle into your hair. You keep going, fighting his grip on you as you start to bob your head over his cock in a steady rhythm, working your hand in time with your mouth.
He forces himself to look at Patrick, catching his eyes.
Patrick looks fucked, lips slick and dropped open as he stares back Art, hungry gaze not wavering. His cock is still hard, pressed against the seam of his boxers and leaking a steady patch of wetness around the head.
A silent challenge seems to pass between the two of them.
We doing this or what?
Art refuses to back down, hardening his resolve. “Feels so fucking good,” he groans, not looking away from Patrick, “her throat’s so tight, so– God, it’s so good. Best I’ve ever had.”
He’s rambling, not even making any sense but you hum in approval all the same, your tongue curling around the crown. Patrick doesn’t look like he minds too much either, pink tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip. "Please," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear. "Let me..."
You pull off Art with a wet pop, turning your head as best you can with his hand still tangled in your hair to fix Patrick with a steely gaze. "You don't get to make requests," you say, your voice hard. "You get to watch and learn."
Patrick's eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he doesn't protest. Art lets out a low growl, his hand tightening its grip on your hair and dragging your mouth back to his cock.
“Stop fucking talking to him,” he demands, hips thrusting to fuck back into your mouth. You choke on the sudden fullness, wetness floods your panties as you moan around him.
Yes, you think, eyes squeezing close as you force your throat to relax around his cock, this is what I wanted.
You were waiting to see how long it’d take Art to snap, he lasted longer than you thought he would. The head of his cock punches against the soft, spongy part at the back of your throat. You fight to not gag around him, hands scrambling for purchase on his thighs. His balls slap against your chin roughly, sticking wetly to the drool that's starting to fall from the corners of your lips.
Art meets Patrick’s eye again, a smug smirk on his face as he jerks his head in a clear invitation, “Come here.” He grunts simply, dragging you up and down the length of his cock by his tight grip on your hair.
Patrick practically sprints from the chair, ripping his shirt off while he tries to kick his boxers off before he reaches the bed. He sits next to Art, chest heaving as he stares down at where your lips stretched obscenely over his best friend's cock.
Art pulls you off by your hair, holding your face a few inches away from his spit covered cock. He tuts at you sympathetically, tilting his head to the side with a tiny frown at the sight of you all teary eyed. “Bet you feel real empty, right?” he asks sadly, shaking your head back and forth like a dog. “That greedy pussy wants our cocks stretching her open, doesn't she?”
You whine loudly, nodding your head as best you can as the meaning of Art’s words sink over you. You feel far away, like you’ve already been fucked six ways to Sunday. You cunt clenches around nothing, aching for Art and Patrick’s cocks bullying their way inside you. You’ve never done anything like that before, taken two guys at once, but God do you need it.
Art nods back, brows pulled together in faux pity. “Pat and I will help baby,” he says sweetly, “You just gotta get nice and stretched out first, need to fuck yourself open on Patrick’s cock so you can take us.”
“Fuck yeah,” Patrick breathes, already moving up the bed to lay flat on his back agasint the pillows. His cock sticking straight out from his body, pointing to the ceiling desperately.
Art lets go of your hair, cupping the side of your face tenderly. His thumb rubs against the soft skin of your cheekbone a few times, you know it’s a question.
Do you want this?
You smile, nuzzling his palm and giving his thumb a playful nip. The answer to his question written all over your face.
Fuck yes.
Art smiles back, nodding his head once. You take the hint, rising from your knees to climb onto the mattress. You slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you crawl up the length of Patrick’s body, straddling his hips and wasting no time in sinking down on his cock.
Art settles next to the two of you, hand loosely gripped around his cock as he starts to lazily stroke himself to the sight of you and Patrick.
“Fuck!” Patrick hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips fiercely as you start to ride him, not giving either of you anytime to adjust. The stretch burns, the lack of prepping before hand makes it sting. You don’t mind, too worked up to care.
“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” He tries, but you cut him off bringing your free hand to wrap around the column of his throat just like he did to you back in the shower.
“You’re the slut,” you growl, fingers digging into his skin roughly. His eyes widen, plush lips going slack. You speed your hips up, the loud smack each time you drop down onto him echoes through the room. “You’re the easy fucking whore that soaked your panties watching your best friend fuck my throat."
Art huffs out a breath, hand slipping over his cock faster as he watches you ride Patrick. His eyes are trained on the way your hand is wrapped against Patrick’s throat. He slips his free hand down, pressing two fingers against Patrick’s cock so you slide down onto them on the next bounce.
“Fuck!” You keen loudly, grip tightening on Patrick’s throat. Art’s fingers add to the sting of your cunt, but your hips don’t stop moving, even as he slips in a third just as fast.
You get lost in it, in the feeling of Patrick’s dick fucking into you so deeply you swear he’s hitting your cervix with every roll of your hips, Art’s fingers stretching you that much wider.
Suddenly, Art drops his cock so his free hand can latch onto your hips, his strong grip forcing you to stop your desperate bouncing. His fingers slip out of you, you immediately miss the stretch.
Patrick groans in displeasure, his hips buck up like he’s trying to slide back into the warmth of your fucked open cunt. His leaking head bumps against your sensitive clit a few times before Art’s dropping his hand down, gripping Patrick’s cock to line it up with his own.
Art slides up behind you, his sweaty chest pressing firmly against your back. “Should be stretched out enough,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, pressing both tips against your fluttering hole.
The shock of it has your hand slipping off Patrick’s throat to anchor onto his shoulders in a feeble attempt to brace yourself. He sucks in large gasps of air, chest heaving as he stares down to where his cock is pressed snug against Art’s, his hand big enough to almost wrap around them both. He throws his head back against the pillows, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, I can’t watch,” he gasps, voice low and ragged.
Art laughs smugly, but it’s breathy around the edges and you can feel the way his hand shakes on your hip. “Close already, Pat?” He asks condescendingly, as his fingers dig in a little tighter. “You’re not even doing any of the work.”
You try to focus on the sensation of Art’s grip, but your mind is a haze of overstimulation and the throb of Patrick’s cock against you. Art’s mocking tone sends a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close you are to the edge yourself. Your greedy cunt clenches around them, trying to suck them in you.
Patrick’s breath stutters, his hips jerking up involuntarily, making a strangled noise that’s half-groan, half-whimper. “Fuck you, man,” he manages to grind out, but his voice is trembling and strained, the bite in his tone gets undercut by how wrecked he sounds. You can feel the barely there twitches of his hips, like he’s physically pained from having to wait any longer.
A sharp cry rips from your throat as they finally start to slide in, both heads popping into your tight hole all at once. Your eyes screw shut at the stretch, thighs shaking where they’re spread over Patrick’s hips.
“Someone kiss me,” you gasp desperately, chin lowering to your chest. Art’s moving before the words finish leaving your mouth, gripping a fistful of Patrick’s hair and dragging him up to your lips. You whine into his mouth, letting his tongue slide between your lips to claim your mouth.
The familiar feeling of his lips on yours relaxes you the tiniest bit, letting Art lower you down a few more inches. It feels like hours as you sink onto them, Art’s big hands gently massaging your hips while Patrick’s greedy fingers pull and paw at your thighs.
It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard Patrick. His lips going slack in awe against yours as Art’s cock slides up next to his, moaning into your mouth when your hips go flush with his.
They feel so huge inside you, so thick you swear you can feel them in your stomach. Bullying your insides into making more room for the both of them.
“Fuck," you gasp, nails digging little crescent moons into Patrick’s shoulders. Every inch of you is alive with sensation, a burning mix of pleasure and pain. Art’s breath is hot and ragged against your ear, whispering sweet encouragements, “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, taking us so fucking good–”
You nod, slowly starting to grind your hips back and forth, gasping when they rub up against the soft spot inside of you that has you clenching in pleasure– practically choking them off at the base. A high moan falls from your lips, hips swirling the tiniest bit faster that have both Art and Patrick growl out matching groans of approval.
“Just like that,” Art whispers into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Gonna make him come first, or are you gonna beat him to it?” The challenge in his voice sends a jolt of heat through you, your thighs starting to shake with every pass of them over that spot.
“God, ah! Art– fuck, mh, Patrick–” You slur, head already starting to go fuzzy
“Fuck,” Art gasps out your name sharply, pushing you down onto Patrick’s chest so he can start fucking into your loose, sloppy cunt. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” his hand grips the back of your neck to pin you down, throwing all his strength behind the snap of his hips.
“Shit, look at you,” Patrick chuckles weakly pinching your hips hard, trying to seem less affected than he really is. “You’re so fucking gone. All that attitude needs is some dick to fix it, huh?”
You crack your eyes open, blearily searching until you zero in on his face. He’s smiling smugly, eyes blown out and hazy.
“Shut the fuck up,” you spit weakly, raising your hand to shove your index and middle finger between his parted lips. You push back far enough to feel his throat constricting against your fingers, letting him gag on you. Your eyes trace the side of his face, down the slope of his nose to where his cherry red lips are lewdly spread around your fingers.
You can distantly hear Art groan behind you, his hips speeding up impossibly faster. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers digging into your sensitive skin meanly. You hook your fingers behind Patrick’s teeth, dragging his face to the side to meet your eye. Patrick moans around your fingers, gazing at you pleading through half lidded eyes. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, drenching your wrist. His hot, wet tongue sliding along the pads of your fingers feels scalding.
Patrick's hands are everywhere, pulling, pinching, caressing, his touch a maddening mix of rough and tender. The feeling of him inside you, alongside Art, is almost too much to bear, making you gasp for breath. Your moans are a symphony of pleasure and desperation, each one a plea for more, more, more the closer you get the edge.
“Shit, ah, Art, ah!” Your feet scrabbled uselessly against the sheets, the fingers of your free hand twist Patrick’s hair roughly. “I’m gonna come— Mm, ah! I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” Art goads, the rhythm of his hips not faltering, “Come on baby– fuck yeah– fucking soak these dicks–”
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your vision whites out around you as the entire world shrinks down to the stretch of your gushing cunt around Art and Patrick. The slight burn of them, the fullness, the unrelenting pace of Art’s hips stinging the skin of your ass on each thrust.
Patrick bites down on your fingers with a broken whine just as Art sinks his teeth into your neck, both of them groaning so loud it’s all you can hear. That and the faulty rhythm of Art’s hips snapping against the meat of your ass in loud ‘cracks’.
They come together, and you can feel it.
You can feel every twitch and jerk of their cocks inside you as they spray the walls of your cunt with their releases. Spurt after spurt of hot come claiming you as theirs, filling you to the brim. Art doesn’t stop, working the three of you through your orgasms. Each thrust fucks more of their come out of you, the lewd squelch of it leaking from of your loose hole to gather around the base of their cocks in two matching creamy rings makes your ears burn.
Just as it gets to be too much, when the pleasure starts to give way into biting overstimulation, Art stops. You’re slumped against Patrick, shaking like a leaf when Art starts to pull out as gently as he can. You hiss when the head of his cock slips out, thighs clenching together.
“Sorry,” he whispers sweetly, giving your shoulder a gentle kiss. He practically man handles you off of Patrick’s cock, lifting your hips up and off of him.
Patrick groans, stomach twitching in oversensitivity as your slick walls slide against his spent dick. Finally he slips out, his drenched cock falling to slap onto his stomach. There come rushes out of you, dripping sticky and thick down your inner thighs.
There’s sweat dripping down your temple when you fall onto the mattress, your back sticks to the sheets but you’re too out of it to care. Art collapses next to you, sandwiching you between him and Patrick. The three of you are quiet, chests heaving as you catch your breath. Patrick’s hairy thigh is pressed to yours, firm and toned. Art’s got an arm slung over your waist, his breath puffs hot against your neck.
“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” you say breathlessly, voice raspy and hoarse. “It could work. We could make it work, the three of us.”
Art and Patrick are quiet, their silence heavy with contemplation. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling, more nervous bringing this up than you thought you’d be. The room is filled with the sounds of your collective breaths, mingling with the lingering scent of sweat and sex.
Patrick chuckles, you can feel his curls brushing against your shoulder as he shakes his head in dry amusement. "Yeah, because everything about this screams 'healthy relationship,'" he quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Art lets out a soft, exasperated sigh, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. "We don't have to decide anything right now," he says, his voice low and steady. "Let's just...see where this goes."
You feel a rush of relief at his words, but Patrick’s hesitancy still gnaws at the edges of your mind. Patrick shifts beside you, his hand skirting lightly over your arm in a rare moment of tenderness.
"Guess we're in uncharted territory, huh?" he murmurs, his tone uncharacteristically serious.
You laugh, finally daring to glance at both of them, a tentative smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, but maybe that's not such a bad thing."
Art and Patrick look back at you with matching grins wide enough to show their teeth, blonde and black hair fanning around their faces like halo’s under the room’s shitty fluorescent light. Your heart swells under the intense stare of two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green. You can feel the room start to fade away until it’s just the three of you and nothing else seems to matter.
Art leans down, giving your right shoulder a quick kiss. “If we’re doing this, we have to be honest with each other.” He looks between you and Patrick pointedly, but he’s still smiling. “No more bullshit games.”
Patrick snorts, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, “Yes sir.”
You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. "No bullshit, no games," you agree, moving to squeeze Art's hand. He squeezes back in a silent promise.
The three of you lie there in a comfortable silence, the weight of your decision settling over you. It's definitely not going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, it could work.
tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
#— 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ♡#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#still giggling about this title#i’m so funny#this took so much of my brain power#and i lowkey hate it#but not so much#just a little#idk#feeling weird#anyways!#bye!#love!#challengers x reader#challengers x you#challengers imagine#challengers fic#challengers fanfic#challengers smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson fic#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson smut#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig fic#patrick zweig fanfic
935 notes
·
View notes
Text
hehehehe finally got these done!! Reboot is so fun to draw; I swear drawing him just bursting into laughter immediately made me feel so much better about literally everything 🥰 He has such a pretty smile, especially when it's genuine. I love him being silly and giggly 🥰 I want him to just be able to laugh and be happy .....buuuut at the same time I also want to put him through so many of The Horrors(TM), so maybe my wants shouldn't be trusted XD
As always, Welcome Home belongs to Clown (partycoffin), and Reboot!Wally/the Reboot AU belongs to @bloodrediscream!💖💖
#augh im just#him giggle#sorry he has. melted my brain XD#ohhhhh my heart QwQ#but fr i just#i wanna make him laugh really hard at really dumb jokes#LUCKY FOR ME I HAVE SEVERAL FUNNY THINGS IVE FOUND THAT FIT HIM AND ROSEMARY#SO GUESS WHATS NEXT ON MY BRAIN LIST OF DRAWING THINGS?? >:D#*cackles manaically*#(....stares at my actor au stuff that i really need to work on 😅)#also i really hope im not bothering BloodRed too much 😅#i know i @ them a lot 👉👈 but its because i draw him a lot!!#you gotta understand! hes a Very Pretty Boi (TM)!!#anon's art#welcome home#anon's doodles#welcome home puppet show#welcome home wally#welcome home au#wally darling#welcome home fanart#welcome home arg#reboot wally#reboot!wally#reboot wally au#welcome home reboot au#reboot welcome home au#reboot wally darling#reboot wally fanart#anon rambles in the tags
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
doodles of my fav sillies
anton belongs to @poicyss
#my brain is a barbie dreamhouse and theyre all just living in it#im especially fond of the second one because my mom used to hold me like that all the time <3#im drawing them a lot lately because im being crushed by the horrors and have to compensate for it somehow#homemade comfort blorbos......#watch me draw anton inconsistently bc i can never decide if i wanna draw him close to how he actually looks#or yassify him and give him soft fluffy hair and kind eyes and defined features. head in my hands#i dont really have a lot of drawing ideas for them bc they dont have like. a canon storyline or anything methinks#its just stuff me and bow toss around and giggle abt thru messages lol. maybe ill draw infant vincent one of these days#i just come up with stuff and draw them doing it. it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside#cuz like anton works for lobocorp as an abnormality BUT hes super duper chill and cute and does his funny little tasks so its fine#AND hes unkillable. auggie is an oc ive had since like 6th grade and i smushed them together. and vincent was for fun but i got attached#i dont have much of a read on anton either bc i think hes meant to be more of an insert character??? if im using that right#on one hand i dont think too hard abt anything being ooc since im not taking it seriously. on the other hand i just hold them in my hands#and stare into space until i can come up with something to draw since i dont have much to go off of. but its fun to build on small tidbits!#i think bow called it an au so i guess??? its an au????? im not really sure. bow if youre reading this im just willy nilly#the only thing i know for sure is that they boink like rabbits. im talking gomez and morticia levels of boinking#maybe ill go back and look at my old doodles for them and redraw em lol#myart#my art#my oc#oc#friend oc#augusta#anton#vincent#sillies family#doodles
454 notes
·
View notes
Text
enmi gintoki…………… orz
#bfy altered my neurons entirely that movie is actually crack made for me specifically#THE ANGST IS SO SO SAD. BUT SO SO GOOD#i’ve had these for soooo long but i just forgot to post them lmao#i think about him. a lot. Too much#enmi gin appeals to the part of my brain that thinks markings (smtiii remnant) and bandages are fucking cool#i LOVEEEE THIS DESIGNNNNNN ACK#it makes me feels so. hngh#his faint smile when he’s finally beaten and is near the end. someone wants me dead#fun fact though i couldn’t take them saying virus seriously bc of the fucking ill smith episode#i’ll be trying to listen to plot but everytime they mention viruses i start giggling incessantly#anyways#BE FOREVER YOROZUYA RUINED MY LIFE AND IM VERY GRATEFUL FOR THAT#sakata gintoki#be forever yorozuya#yorozuya yo eien nare#gintama#ok bye
583 notes
·
View notes
Text
fic idea where mikami takes so long to arrive at the warehouse that the task force and SPK all just go out for brunch. it ends up being a strangely pleasant day together, and they part ways completely forgetting what was supposed to happen at the warehouse in the first place. title "this meeting could have been a massacre"
#death note#light yagami#near#nate river#the au I came up with is getting too complex for me to share anything solid rn#so you will get my stupid ideas until further notice#having so much fun racking my brain for fic ideas where light and near can interact despite all the other stuff going on#cafe brunch date by the sea along with the rest of their teams is not what I expected but we're here now. you can't stop me#I've been giggling over this since I thought of it yesterday#also new writing tag debut#elle writes things
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
😊😊😊 (x)
#let me tell u. this post could have been even longer. there was so much giggling.#fall out boy#patrick stump#my gifs#i have severe patrick brain infection#hes. so cute#*
486 notes
·
View notes
Text
you're all tarted up and you don't look the same but it just gets worse [1] [2] [3] [4]
#this has been living in my brain for a while now#and i've listened to the clips so much and watched so many videos that now it all kinda sounds the same#but he gradually developed a growl on 'you're all' and it makes me giggle#he even got himself in the last one because it's so unhinged. you can hear his lil giggle afterwards 😭#notice how ALL the footage is late sias era when he really started leaning into hyping up the crowd and showboating a bit more.#there was a whole lotta pointing 🫵 and jumping off shit#i think it was also opening for the 'black keys' that the band had to work to 'win' the crowd over and he said he liked the challenge.#ANYWAYS. 'still take you home' will forever remain a banger#AND the transition from 'this house is a circus' into 'still take you home' will forever be a favourite#alex turner#arctic monkeys#sias era#arctic monkeys edit#still take you home#mine#daddy-long-legssss
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]
saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi riptide#gillion tidestrider#GONNA START FORMATTING MY COMICS BETTER. W THE PROPER 'PREV' 'NEXT' LINKS#REALLY DIDNT EXPECT TO CONTINUE THIS SERIES BUT AAAUUUHH MY BRRAAAIN MY BRAIN IS SO IDEASSS. I HAVE 3 OTHER PAGES SKETCHED OUT#NO PROMISES ILL FINISH EM ANY TIME SOON OR EVER. MY WHIMS ARE THEIR OWN BEAST AND I ONLY DRAW ON MY WHIMS#THAT BEING SAID IF U COMMISSIONED ME ILL GEEETT TO YOUUU IM SORRYYYY. ART IS AN EMOTIONAL RELEASE FOR ME N BABY I HAVE EMOTIONS.#ESPECIALLY ABOUT GILLION TIDESTRIDER CHAMPION OF THE UNDERSEA HERO OF THE DEEP.for the desc here i put smth that i typed up in the tags of#another thing i made. i gotta make a proper Baby Gillion tag or smth. eventually.. eventually...I LOVE DRAWIN THIS LIL BABY GUY..#i also LOVE depicting the teachers as just being so fuckin mean. ofc theres variation in that. just like in all things.like the teacher her#idk if itll be mentioned but the octo lady is named Ms Octburn.an octopus pun based off the name of an actual councilor i had#when i was in elementary school i got bullied alot but teachers never did anything. i hated adults and didnt trust them.#but this councilor o mine was so genuinely sweet. i remember spending alot of time w her. she doesnt work there anymore.#but that one school adult that actually earns ur trust and is there for you when they can be.its SO important for a child i think#i hope she knows how much she helped me.youll see in the next page that ms octburn isnt perfect either.but she tries. they all try.somehow.#ALL these comics are gonna be inspired by somesorta experience o mine in the school system. school is so fucked up u ever thing abt that#AND GILLIOOOOONNN IN THE MOST FUCKED UP LITTLE SCHOOL OF ALL. MAINTAINED BY A CULT. CENTERED AROUND HIM. OUR CHOSEN ONE#I IMAGINE ALOT BANKS ON HIS SUCCESS. THIS IS THE WORLD. THE WHOLE WORLD. THE PROPHECY IS GOING TO COME TRUE N UR TELLIN ME#THAT ITS THIS LITTLE IDIOT THATS GONNA BE SAVING US? WHAT IF HE FAILS. IF HE CANT GET THIS RIGHT THEN HE WILL FAIL AND WE WILL DIE#WE NEED TO TRAIN HIM. WE NEED HIM TO LEARN. AND TO SUCCEED. OR ELSE WE'RE DEAD. WE'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD. I IMAGINE THAT MUST BE STRESSFUL#in other news i hope ppl actually giggle when they read these. they ARE intended to be comical. dark humor or whatever. like its also sad#this is intended to be a sad comic series. but a funny one too. does that make sense? god i hope so.saw some1 say they had flashbacks-#-reading this. like YES!! THE INTENDED EFFECT!! YOU GET ME!! i love seeing ppl get upset on this lil baby boys behalf. i LOVE seeing ppl-#-wail n weep n cry in the comments. i LOOOVE seeing ppl RELATE to baby gillion. and i love letting u all know that this wont be a happycomi#gillion gets his happiness arc in the actual show. this series is one of unfortunate events. teehehehe. do u guys remember that show#i keep listening to the lil songs from A Series of Unfortunate Events for inspiration. GOOD STUFF!!#anyway uuhh uhh thats all i got in my brain. for now. feed me ur comments give me ur input i NNEEEEEDD THHEEEMMMM
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cooking something up and posting a wip so I'm forced to finish it
#rambles#wip#a lil ambitious of an artwork but I GOTTA LET IT OUT!#it will leave its CHAMBERS that is my BRAIN#also update currently struggling irl so i haven't had much time to check your messages but know that I appreciate each and every single one#they all make me smile and giggle despite these trying times#and I am currently trying to focus on the comic's next chapter!#i think i'm being ambitious but i kind of want to test my limits artistically
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
collection of moth things i never posted all of varying quality and age
#i'm not giving context for the last two . if you know you know#clamart#cotl monch#the fox is there too but i'm not tagging him due to him being there only Vaguely#and I need a designated Lumi tag. will get back to u on that (<- she will forget)#mostly jus putting these up to ensure everyone I am still thinking about that moth I Promise . i am always thinking about that Moth#monch#fwct chapter 3 is moving at a fuckin snail's pace i'll tell u that much though . I AM writing it .I am jus havin a hell of a time with it#i got too caught up in the whole intro sequence i gotta cut to the chase where the Things actually happen. Unfortunately Monch loves#her internal monologues. So it's just like....... she won't shut the fuck up (in her brain) for two got damn minutes#she has so much to say and none of it will ever be said aloud. too much seething in her Mind. therefore she HATES IT when I try to WRITE#actually i feel like being funny.#cult of the lamb#maintags your moth . giggles an d runs away
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tendou froze, eyes not moving from the beautiful sight in front of him.
Ushijima was laughing, a feat Tendou would’ve deemed impossible when they had met a couple of months ago. His eyes crinkled at the corners as if resisting the urge to shut completely as he laughed to continue - what, gazing at Tendou’s face? He had a hand clasped to his chest, reverberating laughter that was rich and velvet and made Tendou freeze but his heart pound. It surrounded him, drowning him in such a chocolate soundscape.
Ushijima was surprisingly loud when he laughed, enough so that some of the other customers sitting at tables near them in the small restaurant turned their heads curiously to see what was so funny. A woman in Tendou’s peripheral vision raised her eyebrows at him, scorn crossing her face at the duo. Tendou could ignore it, hell, he knew he could forget it as easily as he knew that the face Ushijima made when laughing would be something he would chase for the rest of his life. And just as that unfurled within him, Ushijima’s laughter died down as quickly as it had started and his face settled back into its resting, blank state.
What never changed, though, was the softness of his gaze on Tendou.
Tendou blinked quickly, looking away, shifting slightly in his seat. He could hear the clink of Ushijima’s glass as he picked it up again from where he had carefully put it down before his laughing fit.
“You’re very funny,” Ushijima says, making Tendou raise his eyes back to the man sitting before him, a blush burning the back of his neck. A tiny voice in the back of his mind chirped that, coupled with his red hair, it made him look even more like a monstrous beast. Now, complete with a long, red mane.
Shut it, he barely echoes back, squishing the thought.
The beat of silence makes Ushijima tilt his head slightly, searching Tendou’s face for… something. Why did he always look at him so softly, like he was some precious thing? It made him want to spring into Ushijima’s lap and kiss him until they both couldn’t breathe as equally as it made him want to recoil within himself and drag himself down into some deep, dark lair to never be seen again.
“Don’t I know it,” Tendou replies, offering a small smile he knew Ushijima was waiting for.
Ushijima nods, satisfied with the comment, and resumes eating. Tendou looks down at his own plate, intestines wriggling inside of him. He wondered how much longer it would take for Ushijima to figure it out, how much of his time he could continue to steal before the man came to his senses and realised what everyone else in his life already had: that Tendou was a monster who deserved to be alone.
Tendou picked at the food before him, less interested in it than watching Ushijima as he ate, focused and purposeful as if there was nothing more important to him than what was occurring at present. Tendou liked that. He rested a chin on his hand as his eyes roamed over Ushijima, committing this next beautiful sight to memory. It was almost unfair how good he looked in a suit.
Ushijima looked at him, eyes glinting as he caught his stare. Tendou would bet that he was daring him to continue, to say his thoughts aloud. He could read it in the way Ushijima tilted his head, asking him as unsubtly as ever.
Tendou smiled but broke the hold first, looking back at his plate. It shouldn't be much longer now until Ushijima realised and broke this off, he knew that, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't try to capture as much of this happiness as possible. It'd be a while until he got it again.
It's almost unfair that monsters don't get happy endings. And it's that thought which rolls around in his mind as Ushijima reaches a hand across the table to hold his own, gently.
#we're back with another small story lads bc i craved one#this may or may not be related to the monster au starting to take up space in my brain#i can't help it i'm so weak for real and/or metaphorical monsters#also idk how tumblr works but pls know that i kick my feet and giggle and explode with love whenever anyone likes/comments/reblogs my posts#i appreciate and adore you so much please know that#i just dont know how to/don't always have energy to reply#but you are actively feeding my delusions and personally i love that for us#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#hq#tendou satori#ushijima wakatoshi#haikyuu ships#ushiten#ushijima x tendou
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
tim "i'm not trying to be romantic" → gets his girlfriend a 1st place trophy before she even takes the detectives exam because he believes in her so much, and then writing in a little '7' next to it after she notified him that she didn't do as well as she had hoped SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING ROMANTIC TO ME.
#*carly#ik i said i was gonna go on a little hiatus cause i'm currently working through a little depresive slump but.....#that doesn't mean i missed out on tonight's ep especially since it's actually a really good source of serotonin for me it's my fave show 🥺#and my brain couldn't help but make that parallel from that scene after lucy giggled like 'this is cute you did good'#HAD TO RATTLE THIS OUT OF MY HEAD AND SHARE IT WITH YA'LL#the rookie#4x22#6x03#tim bradford#lucy chen#chenford#otp: you know me so well#AND TO THINK BACK TO S2 TIM WHEN HE WAS DATING RACHEL AND DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO GET HER FOR HER BIRTHDAY SDDZFRTYGHJKL#HE HAS COME SO INCREDIBLY FAR#i mean we all know he secretly got game.....#he just never showed off those smooth moves as much in his other relationships cause he never felt really attached to them#BUT THIS IS LUCY WE'RE TALKING ABOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#THAT'S HIS BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#HE LOVES HER AND WANTS THE WHOLE DAMN THING WITH HER#A HOUSE BABIES GRANDBABIES ALL OF IT#sorry i made the connection and it made my brain go buzzerk#ttfn ta ta for now 👋
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
Soap being giggly when he's happy is a hc very, oh so dear to me.
But he also seems to be the type to giggle when he's about to cry/nervous.
I don't know the image of him talking to Ghost after maybe a more dangerous mission, starting to giggle because Ghost probably said something funny and then him just suddenly dissolving into tears while giggling. Little laughs that turn into a sob. Because he just got hit by the grief of what they do for a leaving and maybe he could've lost Ghost. Simon being hit hard with whiplash by Soap's reaction and feeling very very worried and heartbroken.
#also ghe giggling when hes nervous is for just more tame things#like yeah he might've stolen captains price hat how do you know???#he asks between trying not to laugh his ass off#but yeah these man make me feel so normal smile#brought to you by someone that sometimes laughs before bawling my eyes out#it's all about projecting baby#also getting to write things about characters... publicly is so weird i usualy just leave everything in the brain#cod#call of duty#simon ghost riley#john soap mctavish#ghost/soap#ghostsoap#soap/ghost#soapghost#i love them so much it's insane#it's very funny how i see a happy hc and say to myself#what if it was also sad?
495 notes
·
View notes