#i’m acc tweaking..

[neuvistar]

DID. DID YALL. FUYS GUYS WTF GUYS WTF

WTF. WTF WTFTWTWWTWF WTF. AVENTURINE??

[santoruu]

Gojo has freckles and beauty marks all over his body, not many, they’re small and spread out, but still noticeable (and kissable). And if anyone objects, I’ll personally empty out your fridge and make sure Santa doesn’t leave you any gifts for Christmas.

[fishii28]

ion like my haryana chachi. she straight up said to my face “your sister is prettier ☺️” like bitch YOUR sister is prettier than YOU 💜

[pixiesnooze]

ummmm if atsumu met hinata at the beginning of his volleyball career he wouldn’t have spared him a glance you guys know that right like that’s something you guys are aware of right

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT. ❞

— minors dni, bully! satoru x afab! reader w/ larger boobs, light degradation, titfucking, mouth/throatfucking, oral [m. receiving], is tittydrunk a thing?, spitting because gojo’s sloppy and gross </3

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ is it really my acc if I’m not constantly posting about facefucking…..

“oh, f— fuck…”

the quiet air of the desolate classroom is pierced by your gags and coughs—gojo’s doing as his cock shoves its way between your lips; the head burrows deep into your mouth, allowing his cum an easy path down your throat. his knees rest on either side of your torso, trapping you beneath him with a stiffened dick nestled snug between your spit-coated breasts, fucking himself between the shiny, slick skin illuminated by the moon’s light.

“your tits feel s’fuckin’ good.” he hisses, thrusting again and massaging the large mounds around his dribbling length. “so f-fuckin’ warm, all pretty and perfect around my dick.”

gojo pinches then tugs at your nipples, tweaking them between his fingers and it sends an intense throbbing straight to your neglected pussy. a twitch shoots up your legs behind him, moans bubbling up from your throat and gojo’s head falls back. he groans at the vibrations around his cock, ruts picking up in pace as he squeezes your tits together for a tighter fit around his dick.

his lids are squeezed shut, mind clouded over with lust as gojo gets lost in the feel of your cushiony tits engulfing him. he leans over for a second to drip another large wad of spit on your chest; it mixes with the cum, pre, and saliva already coating your breasts and his cock, in turn loudening the squelch of his stuttered movements. if gojo tried hard enough, he could imagine that this is your pussy he’s fucking, instead. so warm and wet and tight–

“c-cumming again, princess, shit.” satoru’s tip batters the back of your throat, whimpers falling out around his intruding length as he bursts again within your mouth. he only eases up as yet another high dies down, rolling your nipples under his thumbs. “there ya go, fuck. take it, take it all like my good little slut.”

satoru slips his still-hard cock from your mouth so it rests on your cheek, both of you rasping for breath. your chests heave; tears roll down the apples of your cheeks, shaky hands clutching and pulling at his shirt. satoru thumbs away a drop of cum at the corner of your lips—rubbing it over your tongue—before readjusting to straddle you, cupping your other wet cheek in his warm, messy palm.

“don’t you look so pretty right now?” he murmurs against your lips and gives you a short kiss. usually he’d take a picture, but satoru would rather commit this visual to memory than risk anyone else ever seeing you like this, including suguru.

you whine as a nimble hand tugs at your panties, opting to maneuver them down your shivering thighs rather than ripping them off entirely. he chuckles at the needy raise of your hips when a finger presses to your sopping clit, thighs clenching together around his hand.

“just listen at my pretty pussy.” gojo circles the nub and more wet sounds immediately fill the space. “soaking wet like a geyser down there. gonna squirt like one, too?”

your lips quiver. you muster up any leftover energy to cast gojo an unimpressed glare. “you– you’re so dis—ah!, disgusting.”

his cheeky grin only widens. “must like me that way, baby, or this sloppy pussy wouldn’t be leaking everywhere otherwise, hm?”

“sh-shut up and fuck me if you’re gonna do it.” you pause before adding, “satoru.”

what a manipulative little minx you are, saying his name like that knowing it drives him utterly insane. now he has to fuck you. well, not like he wasn’t going to before, but gojo’s definitely more keen on spending the next few hours splitting your pussy open if you’re gonna say his name like that the whole time. branding the shape of his dick into your walls, just like your slutty self deserves.

a few seconds pass. “please.” you whisper it with the assumption that he’s hesitating. in reality gojo’s mind is rampant of all the ways he’s going to bend and fold you over every visible surface, stuff his cunt full enough to have your tummy bulging.

satoru drowns out a vague thought: ‘i’m fucking wrapped around her finger’ before placing a gentle smooch on your lips. he doesn’t care. he likes the taste of himself lingering on your lips. “oh, you never have to beg, baby. i’ll give you anything you want.”

tagz: @anthoosies @astral-hydromancy @lcvelina @lynettess @sbgg @paradiseoflosers @kissesandmore @h-4-bib @starsharkz @sataraxia @apatauaia @savethegoddamturtles @yunymphs

[scribbless-n-stuff]

I'm here to request since I can't write shit.

Dan Heng came home unexpected and even gave me his lightcone early. I'm screaming 😭😭😭

Anyway, I really want to just coddle him up. Pepper his face with kisses, hugs, play with his cheeks, he's just too adorable I can't

This is more of a ramble sorry. I hope you can write something out of this. Thank youu

Late Night Longings

Characters

Dan Heng (IL or not, depends on your imagination <3)

Warnings/Info

FLUFF!!! INTENSE FLUFF!!!

Author’s Notes

LET’S GAURRR CONGRATS ON GETTING DAN HENG & HIS LIGHT CONE, ANON REQUESTER!!!

Oh god I’m actually tweaking over this beautiful man (I’m a lesbian)

might as well make this a Dan Heng fan acc bro

Hopefully this doesn't disappoint...

After another week-long adventure, the Astral Express team finally boards back on the train. The mission was tough, almost everyone was tired and drained, including you. The train’s doors close, leaving the train car quiet. 

Himeko, who was keeping in check of the duties inside the Express, approaches you from her seat. You feel a hand on your shoulder, “Welcome back, Y/n, how are you feeling?” the red-haired lady asks.

You let out a tired smile, “All good, just tired.. I should go and rest....” Your voice trails off, as you look around for your partner, Dan Heng. However, he was nowhere to be found. He probably went straight to his room. 

Smiling bittersweetly, You let out a heavy sigh, drooping down in fatigue. Your brain was basically falling asleep as you were standing up. 

The sound of light chuckling pulls you back to reality. “Alright, sleep well then.” Himeko withdraws her hand from your shoulder, giving you a smile. She leaves your side, to check on the others. You nod back before also turning away, to go to your room. 

The last sounds you hear, before exiting the parlor car are March’s whiney complaints about how troublesome the mission was. You fondly smile, the crew was like family to you. However, someone was missing. 

Entering your room, you sigh and discard your clothes, getting into more comfortable ones. You also go to wash your face and brush your teeth. By the time you get on your bed, you stretch out your limbs and pop your joints. 

You yawn, as your mind drifts to Dan Heng. “He’s probably tired… Might as well give him space tonight..” you think, before getting into your sheets and wrapping yourself into a blanket. However, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad, missing the closeness of your partner. Nevertheless, you needed your rest. 

As you felt the snugness of your mattress and pillows, you fell asleep almost immediately, lightly snoring as you dreamt of nothing. That’s how you know you’re having the best sleep of your life.

...

… knock knock

The sound of knocking on your door disturbs your deep slumber, you grumble in annoyance. As you peek open your eyes, you could literally feel eyebags forming below your eyes. You turn your head over to your nightstand to look at the digital clock. 

2:43 AM. 

You squint your eyes and huff in disbelief of the current time. Ultimately, you decide to ignore the knocking. Besides, it was almost 3 AM, there was no way you were gonna be awake during witching hour.

Flopping back down, your head lays back down against the pillow, shutting your eyes back closed. As your whole body relaxes once more, your facial features relax too. Finally… sweet, sweet slumber…

…

… knock, knock, knock

Your eyes snap back open, feeling your anger flare up. Hopping out of bed, temporarily bidding goodbye to your warm blankets, you stomp towards the door of your room. You whip open your door. 

“Can’t it wait ‘til morning?” You sharply scoff, before looking up to see a pair of teal eyes. It was Dan Heng, in more casual attire. Except, you couldn’t see his clothes much because he was loosely wrapped around in his blue blanket. 

“Oh!-” Upon seeing that it was him, you immediately regretted your harsh words, just because you were tired.

“Apologies..” The poor boy mumbles sleepily. “I’ll go back to my room..” Dan Heng sniffles, because of the cold air, as he turns away. His hair was tousled up, looking absolutely adorable, which made you feel even more guilty. 

You immediately reach out to yank him back by the hand. “NOOO WAIT!” you exclaim. “I’m sorry, I was tired..” 

Dan Heng blinks at you, feeling a bit surprised by your raised voice.  “It’s fine.. I shouldn’t have knocked so late.” He mutters. 

Tugging again at his hand, “Apology accepted…” You look at him with adoration, it was truly a rare sight to see this man so vulnerable, due to his usual stoic behavior and expression. “Do you wanna come in?” You offer, feeling happier now that your partner was here, disregarding the late hour. 

The next second, you see a small smile appear on his face. 

“Yes, please..”

With this, he basically engulfed you in his arms, also wrapping you in the blanket draped around his figure. Your yelp is muffled into his torso, suddenly bearing his body’s weight. You do your best to drag him to your bed, hugging him by the waist. 

Dan Heng clumsily waddles to the bed, still holding onto you out of clinginess. Eventually, you pry yourself out of his hold, pushing him onto your bed. “Man.. you’re different when you’re sleepy.” You huff at him, as he looks up at you with a sleepy expression. He doesn’t respond.

You smile, before also getting into bed, beside him. His and your legs tangle together, as you position yourself just a bit higher than him, so that his head is around the same level as your collarbone and neck.

His eyes were already closed, falling back asleep. Poor little thing must have woken up randomly, then decided to come to you for comfort. You coo at him, cupping his face with one hand and leaning in to kiss him on the forehead. 

Dan Heng furrows his eyebrows at his, as you feel his cheeks grow warm. Upon registering this reaction, you snicker, deciding to coddle him up even more. You release your next attack on his nose, giving him a quick peck. After that, you go to both of his cheeks, giving him four kisses on each one. 

“Mmmmfff..” The boy mumbles at you, the warm fluttering feeling swelling up in his chest was feeling too strong. The combination of the late hour and his fatigue were a dangerous combination. Nevertheless, he doesn’t tell you to stop… Or maybe he’s too tired to. 

Regardless, you wouldn’t stop either way. 

“You’re sooo cute~”  Finally, you kiss his lips. Slowly and tenderly, lightly biting his lower lip to tease him. This was the last straw for him. 

“You’re waking me…” Dan Heng muffles against your lips, but you just swallow up his words, as you pull away and give him another quick peck. Ignoring him, as you repeatedly kiss his face in the same order as before, except, more aggressive and affectionate. He blushes madly as his face scrunches up in feigned discomfort, but he secretly enjoys it. 

After a bit, he’s had enough, seriously wanting to sleep now. Dan Heng uses the last of his physical strength and energy to push and roll you onto your back. He gets on top of you, mainly to pin you down and restrict you from any movement to disturb him. The comfortability and closeness were just bonus points.

“Stop. Sleep.” He muffles again, as he nestles his face against your chest. As you’re pushed down, you feel your face heating up at the change of position. Even he felt slightly flustered and embarrassed at his own boldness, but he couldn’t help himself. 

You whine a bit at the loss of control, but you sigh and give in, feeling tired too. One of your hands is brought to his back, as you run it up and down to generate warmth for him. As for your free hand, you tangle your fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp to further lull him to sleep. 

Dan Heng on the other hand, his arms were still wrapped around your waist from earlier, holding you against him like a needy koala. The feeling of your fingers caressing against his hair made him let out a shaky sigh. He felt so content, and so did you.

[impur6]

431 BKDK HEADCANNON ‼️

Okay since the epilogue is basically up for interpretation let me tell you my interpretation

My headcannon is that izuku realized that he was in love with katsuki sometime after the war. And the only person who knew or accidentally found out was ochako. She was also going through her own thing with himiko and when she found out what was happening with izuku she was very empathetic.

She acc encouraged izuku to go hang out with katsuki more and try to get to know him better. And her guidance helped.

So after graduation, even though bkdk went on two different paths, they still hung out with each other during lunch breaks and katsuki dropped by his classroom. So izuku just kept falling and falling for him

Now at the 1A dinner, katsuki decided he wanted to confess to him. He also started getting feelings for izuku during the rest of the at UA but felt like they needed to figure out their life first (izuku trying to figure his profession and katsuki focusing on getting his suit made). So he decided that now he got the suit, he can ask the first important question: would he be interested to join his agency?

After that didn’t work out he decided to go for the kill and told him to let people know they’re special to him. Towards the end of it he was gonna admit how special izuku was to him.

Now during Katsuki’s pep talk, izuku was thinking about him. But he was more so focusing on how he realized that he liked him. Which in turn, reminded him of ochako. And he started feeling bad that even though she was there for him and his sexual awakening, he felt like maybe after he figured everything out he left her in the dust cause they both got so busy. He also remembered, they hadn’t even spoken to each other at the dinner.

So he told katsuki like wait on that note, I need to talk to ochako.

Katsuki was obviously stunned and was thought like oh right, it might not be me but acc ochako. So he let him go and just got really angsty.

On the other hand, izuku went to meet up with ochako and was like you wanna hang out more, cause you’re an amazing friend and I want to talk to you more. Ochako was like sure ofc!!

Now after the next few days izuku and ochako hang out more, and katsuki thinks that they’re going out on dates. It kinda messes him up, cause that’s two rejections!! One professionally and the other romantically.

But the truth is that izuku and ochako’s dates are just them catching up and talking about how they been. Purely platonic. And then on their 3rd hangout, izuku tells her that katsuki has been acting weird. He isn’t coming by for lunch or hasn’t been texting. Ochako mentions that he hasn’t been doing well professionally and has been getting a lot of trouble with the media.

So izuku wonders why and notices it started after the 1A dinner. He calls up katsuki and was like hey wanna get dinner today. Katsuki tells him no I’m busy, I have shift at night from 6 pm-3am (he doesn’t he’s just making it up on the go). And izuku figures it cause he memorized his shifts for the next 6 months. But he lets him go and plans to corner him where he’s actually at 6pm. The gym.

So he stops by the gym and asks him oh I thought you had a shift? And katsuki lies and says oh someone said they could cover for him or something. So izuku was like oh then you could join me for dinner now? Katsuki said still no and gave the excuse that he was behind paperwork.

But again, izuku clocked him and said that kirishima told him that katsuki is way ahead of everyone and already finished everything (or something idk roll with it please). Knowing that he couldn’t win, katsuki pushes him and yells at him to leave him alone.

Teen izuku would have backed off and called it quits, but adult izuku doesn’t put up with shit. So while katsuki stalks off to his Porsche (which by the way is like something I’m still tweaking about), izuku grabs his and judo flips him over and tells him he’s not gonna move until he tells him what’s going and why he doesn’t hang out with him anymore.

Katsuki grumbles and yells at him to go ochako since she seems to be more important and special. Izuku gets confused and asks what? why do you think I think she’s special. I never said that?

Katsuki tells him that he knows that they’re dating and whatever and he decided to give him space so they can get together. Izuku is still confused and tells him okay stop playing, what’s actually going on.

Now it’s his turn to be confused and asks izuku are you really not dating her? And he tells him no. Katsukis starts laughing like a maniac, and izukus unsure of what to do so he lets out a few forced giggles until he notices the tears in katsukis eyes and freaks out.

That’s when katsuki finally confesses what he’s been feeling for the past few years and weeks. Izuku starts crying too and confesses about his feelings. He then explains his side of the story and katsuki facepalms himself for worrying and stressing over nothing.

Then both laughed at the circumstance, until izuku gets serious and asks him what does that make us? Katsuki thinks about it and tells him like we can be partners or boyfriend. Or we can be each other’s special someone.

The end :))

[mirnilop]

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

���I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

[evvyyypeters-fics]

With Desperate Times, Comes Desperate Needs

Jay Bahadur x f!reader

Warnings!: smut, shameless face riding, oral (f!recieving), a pinch of angst, porn w/ little plot

Evan was so hot and sweaty in this movie omg sedate me

This a reupload (w/ some tweaks) of my most popular fic on my acc before it got deleted.

“Fuck!” A loud slam of the door heightens my senses as my frustrated journalist boyfriend groans angrily, huffing back inside our small, sweaty apartment room in Somalia.

I instantly shot up from the dingy mattress I was napping on, feeling the brush and hearing the soft crumple of some of the post-it notes on the wall flying up. My eyes readjust in the dim lights and settle on my boyfriend now pacing the room a bit, his head practically in his hands.

“Hey…hey…” I say in a soft, soothing tone as I push myself off the mattress and slowly walk towards him. I rub his shoulders gently, feeling the soft stretchy fabric of his Blue Jays #15 jersey, holding him in place as I try to calm him down.

“Baby, stress is bad for you. What happened?” I soothe, raising one of my hands to brush through his hair tenderly, causing his gaze to lift a little.

“God, what hasn’t happened.” He sighs heavily before grunting frustratedly again.

“Hey…come on…calm down.” I urge, feeling my brow begin to furrow into a frown. My worry of his behavior increasing.

“Sorry.” He says in a defeated tone, letting his tensed shoulders drop a little. Forcing himself to relax a little.

“It’s just…I’m being rejected by everything. And I just fucked up an interview. Apparently I needed to bring Khat.” I could feel the frustration start building in him again. “Nobody fucking told me I’d need fucking Khat!” He shouts, tensing again.

His gaze flicks back up to me and he notices my furrowed brow and worried expression and he instantly softens again. “Sorry…” He says gently.

I shake my head, brushing it off understandingly. Something noticeably shifts in him when he continues to stare into my eyes. Something flickers against my cheek, a soft fluttering. Realizing that I’ve been unintentionally batting my eyelashes at him, I feel my face grow a bit hotter. And the intense stare he bore into me wasn’t helping.

I catch him swipe his tongue across his bottom lip quickly, leaning a bit closer towards me.

“You know…you’re right. I should stop stressing out so much. And I think I have the best cure for that right now..” He says in a low, seductive tone as he leans into my ear. The dark whispering sent shivers down my spine. I felt his large, rough hands snake down the small of my back, sliding over my ass and cupping it, before resting under the swell where my ass met my thighs. He squeezed roughly, kneading the pillowy flesh before pressing into me with a searing kiss that selt jolts of pleasurable waves throughout my body that nestled into my core.

Closing my eyes, I whimpered into the kiss, pressing back into it and biting at his now swollen lip. I could feel the gush of my arousal begin to create a warm stain in my panties, the pounding pressure that came from the heat causing me to press my thighs together to relieve the tension. He deepened the kiss and I panted in response, letting out hot and soft moans that bubbled in my throat and fell from my lips.

“Such a good girl…” He praises, mumbling against my plush and plumped lips, swollen from his ravenous kissing and the scrape of his teeth along my bottom lip.

I squeal in frightened delight as he scoops me up under the swell of my ass, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist to steady. He carries me over to the twin bed in the corner, my arms wrapped around his shoulders as I continue sinking into the comfort of his taste. His smell, the one I’ve grown to love mixed with musk, sweat, dirt and the heat. A strange arousing natural cologne radiating from him.

He sits me down on the bed, resting beside me and placing his palm on the side of my cheek tenderly as he continues swirling his tongue in my mouth. I rest my hand over his and whine disappointedly when he pulls away.

“I have an idea.” He beams cheekily at me and I have no choice but to give in. He lays down on the bed and I raise a confused brow at him.

He lifts up his hands at his sides and wiggles his fingers, calling me over. “C’mere” He beckons in that rough voice I love. His eyes pinned on me.

I slowly crawl on top of him, straddling his lap. He slides his hands up my thighs and to my waist, lifting my skirt of my sundress dress in the process and bunching it up at my waist, pinning it there. Revealing my white lacy panties with a small rose embellishment on the front.

“Cute.” He smirks, staring. My cheeks instantly burn.

“Pervert.” I hiss and he flashes his gaze at me amusedly, as if to taunt and mock me saying ‘what do you think we’re doing’. And I feel heat rise to fill my face again. I stay silent.

Clicking his tongue his shrugs a bit. “Come closer.” He guides my hips forward, sliding up his chest.

“C’mon. Closer.” He says, and I’m still curiously confused.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He says, explaining after realizing I was still confused.

“W-What?” I asked shyly, stuttering.

“You heard me. Sit. On. My. Face” He demands, getting more impatient. I had never heard him so bold and commanding before, it was really turning me on.

“And don’t do any of that hovering crap. Sit.” I decided not to argue with him given his emotional state at the moment and just raise my hips, slowly crawling over his face with my knees. As I slowly sink down onto his face he hooks his finger under the bottom of my panties and pulls them to the side.

“Good girl..fuckkkk, you’re so wet.” He growls under his breath and I feel a shiver spark up my spine. The ache in between my thighs instantly begins to quiet as I feel the relief of his tongue swiping over my clit before nestling inside of my cunt that greedily sucks him up instantly. As I sit with my weight, still careful not to crush or suffocate him, he grips my plushy thighs tightly in his hands, kneading the flesh as he twists his tongue inside of me. His nose bumping my budding clit every time he moves.

I let out small moans that slowly grow louder in a steady rhythm and melody, my hips rolling and grinding against his face seeking more friction.

“Fuck, Jay..” I squeak and I hear him hum against my fluttering cunt, causing me to clench down. The feeling of his voice vibrating off of me causes me to jolt and my eyes squeeze shut, my head lolling back as I hold onto his wrists of his hands that continue kneading my thighs, using them for support as my hips continue grinding against his nose to bump it against my clit.

He devours me like he’s starving, sliding his tongue out to my dismay for a moment to suck on the bundle of nerves, giving it the stimulation I was craving before diving back into my greedy hole.

“S-Shit Jay! I’m s’ close-!” I whine, my mouth agape as I let out pathetic moans that begin to increase in pitch as I feel my incoming orgasm.

He doesn’t give up coaxing out my orgasm, feverishly swallowing my arousal and fucking me dry on his tongue, pressing and sucking onto my clit like he wants to suck me dry of cum.

My hips roll wantonly on his face, whining and moaning with no restraint at this point, most likely causing a stir for everyone else and probably some eyes on our room—and laughter.

My hands tighten their grip on his wrists as I feel the wave of ecstasy crash over me, releasing over his face, he pulls his tongue out and begins to suck and flick my clit again until I’m whining from overstimulation.

“F-Fuck Jay! S-Stop! Stop! I jus’ cammmh!” He presses a final kiss to the bundle of nerves before letting me slide off his face and rest on his chest. My breathing labored as my chest heaves, settling from the intense rush.

There’s a stupid pleasant grin on his face, his lips and nose covered with the glistened of my slick and cum.

“Yeah, I definitely feel less stressed.” He acts as if he’s truly drunk and blissed out, causing me to giggle down at him.

“Yeah?” I ask, my voice inflected in a sing-song tone.

“Yeah..” He sighs pleasantly. “We definitely need to do this more often.”

[merlucide]

oh yes- you were oh so cute 🙈 I couldn’t contain my love

Oh remember when I asked you out? It was a disaster, I planned out a whole romantic confession. But it rained, and a bird attacked you, and I fell on my face twice, and the flowers I got you fell apart from the heavy rain. But when I told you I had the day all prepared for the perfect confession, you smiled at me and took my hand and told me it was perfect. Then I walked you home and you asked me out on a date 🙈💗

*Sniff* one of the happiest days of my life 🤧☕️

Hugs <3 Send this to the first ten people on your dash, okay? We’re giving hugs!

( no pressure ofc )

AYTYYYYATAYAAAAY

I LUV HUGS :3

[neuvistar]

❝ MISSING YOU. ❞ signed. jiyan . wc . 721.

— featuring ┊jiyan x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! vaginal fingering, mild titplay, he’s so soft it hurts, use of nicknames (love, wife, etc), jiyan n his fingers.. no comment. | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

— a/n ┊fell in love w jiyan i lowk think i have a type ✊😇 i got so many writings sitting in the booty cracks of my drafts i’m acc so serious :,) i finished most of them tho! i jus need time 2 figure out when i’ll post them! ++ this is one of the times where i DIDNT post at 1am!! (it’s 8am i’m going back 2 sleep after)

“i missed you, my love.”

jiyan’s heart swells with a fierce protectiveness as he holds you close on his lap after your shared shower with him. you sulked and huffed at him, and he knew why. he hadn’t been home for these past few weeks, busy with his usual activities as a general. he wanted to make it up to you, try and be all sweet.. yet the sight of you, so damp and vulnerable in his arms was enough to drive him absolutely insane.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t able to write back, you sent me quite a few letters.” the general’s fingers trace gentle circles against your cunt, a soothing gesture meant to bring comfort, to remind you that you are safe— providing you with as much ease as possible. “you’re safe now that i’m here.” he murmurs, his voice a warm rumble against your head. jiyan’s thumb flicks gently against your clit, the teasing touches a tender balm to your wounded spirit. “i promise i’ll try to visit you more often, no matter how busy i can get,” he promises, his voice thick with emotion. "but for now, let me take care of you. let me be your safe haven." his fingers slip inside you, a slow, sensual invasion meant to calm your nerves. your husband rubs gently, his eyes locked on your pretty face he loved so dear, gauging your reactions—searching for some sign of solace in his touch. "does that feel good?" he whispers, his fingers moving in a languid rhythm designed to soothe the storm raging within you. “jiyan.. n—need you so bad..”

“i know you do baby, i know you do.” your beloved husband’s heart skips a beat at your voice.. the voice he longed to hear, your involuntary response igniting a fire in his loins. he bit his lip, his free hand trailing up your body to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. "you’ve missed me, haven’t you?" he murmured, his voice husky and thick with desire.. slowly trailing kisses and nibbles against your neck— teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "tell me what you need, and i’ll give it to you.” he promises, his fingers never faltering in their slow, rhythmic dance.

“m—more.. i want more.” your response to his touch is both gratifying and arousing, a surge of desire flickering through his veins. he feels your cunt clenching around his fingers, your body arching into his touch as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "then let go for me.” your body shuddered in his hold, the tension in your core building— you were close already.. his hot breath ghosting over your ear, “let me hear you, my love. let me hear how much you’ve been missing me," he commands, his voice a low, gravelly purr. the pace of his fingers quicken, the slickness coating his digits a testament to his own arousal. jiyan could feel it.. he could feel his cock straining against his pants, aching for release, but he won't give in to his own desires until he's brought his pretty wife to the brink.

the fast flicks of his fingers were driving you to the edge, “mm.. more, right?" jiyan’s other hand slid up your body, fingers teasing and tweaking your delicate nipples, adding another layer of desire. "anything for you.” he murmurs, every touch, every flick, a promise of pleasure and protection. jiyan knew what you needed in this moment, and he's more than willing to give it to you. he wants to overwhelm you with the intensity of their connection, to drown your worries in the tidal wave of your shared pleasure with him. “you’re going to come for me, right?" he purrs, his pace escalating. jiyan’s fingers curl inside you, the change in sensation designed to push you closer and closer to the edge. "say my name when you come for me." he demanded shyly, his thumb moving faster, more insistent. "i want to hear my name come out of your mouth..” the dark room is thick with the scent of sex and the sound of your whines and whimpers, with a desperate whine—your body tightened around his fingers, the sensation of his fingers sending a surge of joy through you.

damn. his fingers.. have they always felt this good?

[linked-through-the-centuries]

Take two because I accidentally posted this on the wrong acc 😔

I am no artist, and I did download a mannequin off of Pinterest in order to draw these because anatomy is hard, but I wanted to try to draw some of the outfits I’ve designed for the links, so here are the first three!!

Past’s tunic is definitely more of a dress than a tunic, and they also have a corset! Tune’s outfit was HEAVILY inspired by Will Turner, I’m not even gonna deny that one. I used one of his outfits as a reference and then just tweaked it. And for Warriors, it’s pretty much his in game tunic but longer and with more gold designs because he’s fancy

At some point I will try to draw them actually and not just their clothes, but for now I hope these are good enough. Again, I am not artist, I just sketch sometimes

This is not going to be a comic, it’s going to be a written story, but I will do my best to draw occasionally :)

[not-thenauts]

Ello! I've got a question for you! What is the difference between Nocturnal Octonauts AU and the cannon story? Ty if you answer!

*falls down stairs as I leave followed by a bunch of chickens*

*Exaggerated but also small breath in*

chimkens! Anyways, thank you, @fawncr33k for the ask!

Nocturnal Octonauts is set in time before the OctoAgents were established. And that’s it. Yeah, I literally didn’t flesh out ANYTHING for this Au. I just got hyper-fixated this year and I made up the name “Nocturnal Octonauts” because it sounded catchy. Literally my alt acc name is “not-thenauts” because, yet again, it was catchy! :D

I’m just the designer and artist, you guys on the other hand— are the storytellers! Your asks flesh out the characters and the story, and I just draw ‘em. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan— what are you saying? Of course I don’t have one… what should I tell them? — but I will say that there are facts about my Au, like how Peso is a gentoo penguin and Kwazii is an Italian Pirate. Or how Peso is struggling to get out of a eating disorder and having flashbacks of when he and his friends were dying, or how Dashi was shot in the ear (when it was meant for her head) and she wears a hearing aid now. Or maybe how Kwazii’s mysterious past will come to bite him in the back. Or lastly, the Captain’s shell shock.

Maybe I did add a storyline to it. But I’ll bite since I’m excited to share you guys the second coming of this Season.

When I first created the Nocturnal Octonauts, there was no exact date of— time?— that they were currently in. But I can confirm that their nonprofit organization has been in business since the 1970s, around the actual time when America launched to the Moon. Barnacles SnowBeard (and also yes, I gave them all last names) was there to gain title of ownership in that organization or something else. Which I will name right here : IBOC : International Beacon of Ocean Conservation. His role is more like a branch, to something bigger and powerful than IBOC. I think it’s best to clarify that around 1981, Barnacles SnowBeard, Kwazii North-Wind, Peso Gonzales Garcia, Dashi Chund, Tweak Smiths, and Cala Inkling joined the association within a 12 month period. There were also new recruits added, to branch out and distribute their jobs so that they’re not toggling everything all at once. (These may be the vegimals later in the year and some new oc’s I haven’t thought of yet).

*•.

So far, I’ve just released season 2 to ya’ll. Happy ending of 2024 in 3-4 months. :)

These are the designs I’ve just released to you now! Ain’t it pretty?

God bless you all!

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.”

‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23‬:‭5‬ ‭ESV‬‬

[sanza-17]

it’s 3am rn in the uk but I just had the biggest epiphany whilst pacing back and forth in my uni accom room as I listen to sexxy red

so I played Morrowind for like 3-5 mins before I got lost tryna get to the first city before I gave up and stopped playing but I wanted to come up with a design and maybe even a small idea/backstory for my nereverine and SO I decided that my eso oc Elynisi was going to be my nereverine 🥴 the idea was going to be that Azura for some reason decides to snatch up Elys spirit some time after she dies from old age for some reason (still figuring that out)

and then she’s reborn as the again during the 3rd era and she just shows up as some abandoned baby or something but the twist is that this time in this life she has white hair instead of her usual reddish colour (I’m acc so smart) and Yh that’s about it so far. She’ll do the usual stuff, get caught doing something bad and get sent to the imperial city prison before she ends up getting shipped from Morrowind and whatever happens next idk but at some point Ely and Irene end up meeting somehow and Irene is low-key tweaking cuz this lady looks very familiar, maybe even having a similar hairstyle but a diff colour so she tries to calm down and keep it to herself but at some point maybe Azura or something confirms it to her or both of them that she’s actually one of her old best friends from the second era she randomly decided to snatch up.

skip over a few things and Irene is probably the most happiest she’s ever been since the 2nd era as she gets to be reunited with someone she loved and cared about ages though she’s a little different now but she’s not gonna complain she’s been waiting around 800 years to see someone familiar again. After the whole nereverine and tribunal stuff is over I like to think that the two go to Daggerfall so she could show her around for nostalgia reasons and reminisce about the old days. And maybe they BOTH end up going on a little trip to akavir together idk 🤷🏽‍♀️ gives me an idea of what my vestige could potentially be doing during the events of the 4th era cuz I haven’t thought that far in terms of irenes future

but idk I just wanted a reason to use elys design again cuz I love it so much lmao

[blossoming-mind-palace]

Can I request modern day headcannons for everyone? Including Chung Mei Lee Xue

I already posted something similar, but I decided to repost it, tweak it, and added new characters. Chung Mei and Lee Xue already come from the modern day, so some of these are just facts about them. Besides that, it’s a separate (and happier) universe where the ROTBB characters were born in the same time period.

Btw OC stuff is under the cut for people that aren’t into that kinda stuff.

ROTBB Modern AU (SFW)

Chung Myung

Still went straight to the workforce after graduating high school. He had a high GPA, but just didn’t want to pursue any higher education. He’s a security guard at a university thanks to Chung Mun being a professor there.

Like Chung Mun, he thrifts most of his clothes. Rarely splurges on new pieces unless he know’s it’s really high quality and will last a looooong time. Outside of work he likes to wear dark colors, jeans, and leather jackets. Occasionally wears florals and prefers embroidery over prints because they last longer.

I’m gonna place him in his 30s unlike my original post. He still isn’t proficient with technology though.

In a boxing club, and is the best fighter in it. (Obviously)

He’s a really bad driver and has been in multiple accidents. He’s an aggressive driver and has totaled at least two cars. Has a scar from one of those accidents and will show it off when asked.

Can cook, but eats a lot of fast food because it’s cheap and convenient. If he eats a home-cooked meal it’s either because he was in the mood to cook or Chung Mun made dinner.

I feel like he’d listen to older rock.

Chung Mun

Everyone’s favorite professor, but I can’t decide on what he’d teach. Maybe social sciences? Idk.

Succeeds at keeping his student’s attention and is pretty merciful when it comes to deadlines. He knows that shit happens and doesn’t get passive aggressive if you can’t turn in your assignment on time, but knows when to put his foot down if students take advantage of this.

Thrift king. Comfort > style. Wears beige or warm colors, and is a big fan of sweaters.

A better driver than Chung Myung. Has no idea how Chung Myung became such a bad driver because he taught him. Drives a modest used car.

Only listens to older songs/genres. Once thrifted a record player and taught himself how to fix it, and he only buys used vinyls because the newer ones are expensive.

Jo Gul

Around freshmen/sophomore grade. Currently working towards a general education degree, but his dad wants him to major in something business-related. Jo Gul is thinking about changing his major to something fitness-related despite his dad’s wishes.

Likes to wear graphic tees, trendy prints and jeans. I can see him rocking a beanie, too. Idk why.

Met Chung Myung at their boxing club. Got his ass handed to him on the first day, but still attends regularly. (Thanks Chung Myung)

They also frequent the same gym. Lifts a lot and likes to show off his arms.

His guilty pleasure is crappy romance shows/movies. Will go on long-winded rants about them and who should’ve gotten together. Did not shut up about Bridgerton when the new season came out. (Same)

A fan of pop and rock music.

Yunjong

Another thrift king! He doesn’t follow trends and just buys whatever’s comfy and would last long.

He’s a university student, but unlike Jo Gul, he’s there on scholarship and has to work to feed himself. (he’s still an orphan)

During his limited free time, he likes to pirate movies, read in the university’s library, and occasionally plays DnD. He makes a really good dungeon master or team leader.

Fantasy nerd!! Likes to escape to fantasy worlds to distract himself from how stressful his life is.

Doesn’t drive, but rides a bike instead so he won’t have to pay for gas.

Baek Cheon

Two grades ahead of Jo Gul and Yunjong. Couldn’t get into the same school as his brother, so he ended up going to their rival university.

Top of his class and on the dean’s list. Has no idea why the other school wouldn’t accept him.

He’s an excellent tutor and is one of Chung Mun’s favorite students. I still don’t know what he’d major in though. </3

Accidentally walked in on one of Yunjong’s DnD meetings. Initially did not understand the hype, but joined anyway and still attends meetings consistently.

Also uses a bike instead of a car because it’s good exercise.

Used to wear brand-named clothes, but stopped after he moved out of his family’s home. After that, he became an expert at looking expensive while not breaking the bank.

Yu Iseol

Goes to university, but struggles with going to events and doing extra-curricular activities. Also at the top of her class and is Baek Cheon’s academic rival.

Goes to the same gym as Jo Gul and outperforms him like the queen she is. Makes her own workout routines inspired by fictional characters.

Again, she’s a shounen fan. She thinks genres like that are inspiring, and she likes to rewatch her favorite shows a lot.

Accidentally stumbled across the boxing club and almost beat Chung Myung. She doesn’t attend meetings anymore, but the members still respect her because she went toe-to-toe with their best boxer.

Occasionally helps Baek Cheon tutor, and they’ve both tutored Yunjong and Jo Gul before. She’s not very good at explaining things, though.

Wears men’s clothing because women’s clothing is often low-quality and impractical. Her style is plain and baggy, but she somehow makes it look couture. Likes to wear her dad’s hand-me-downs when she misses him.

Tang Soso

Biology major of course! Just a grade under Yu Iseol and Baek Cheon.

Freaks people out with how obsessive she is with science. Has an iron-stomach and isn’t phased by gross lessons or projects. Magically not phased by the smell of formaldehyde, either. That last one REALLY freaks her peers out.

Like Jo Gul, she doesn’t have to work outside of school thanks to her family’s support. Her family has made a lot of donations towards the schools she went to over the years.

LOVES yapping about the sciences and randomly info-dumps about it. Yu Iseol likes to listen to her lecture about her latest scientific obsession. Tang Soso could talk for hours, and Yu Iseol could listen to her for hours.

Keeps up with trends, and has an elegant style. A lot of people wouldn’t guess she’s so weird thanks to how classy/lady-like her fashion sense is.

Yu Iseol’s dorm mate. They met after being randomly chosen for each other.

Tang Soso owns a nice car and takes really good care of it. Is Yu Iseol’s carpool, but she’s trying to teach her how to drive. It’s going well. (Better than the Chung brothers that’s for fucking sure-)

Has a pet snake back at home. Her younger siblings take care of it while she’s gone, but she misses it during the semester.

Tang Bo

Biology professor who likes to annoy the security guard during his breaks.

Tang Soso doesn’t take any of his classes since they’re family, but he does tutor her from time to time.

Her snake was a gift from him and he’s glad that she’s taken such good care of it.

He’s her favorite uncle but shhhh don’t tell the others. Promised her dad he’d keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t get into trouble while she’s at uni.

Most students either think he’s fun or ruthless. There’s no in between. His classes are not easy, and he isn’t as forgiving as Chung Mun when it comes to deadlines.

Despite nagging other people about drinking too much caffeine, he has a mild caffeine addiction. He’s also not a morning person, so he’d literally be the “Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee” meme were a person.

Chung Mun is one of the few coworkers he gets along with, and goes out drinking during the weekends with Chung Myung. (Some things never change)

Wears a lot of dark colors and has a polished style until the end of the semester. At that point he gets burnt out and doesn’t care. (Me)

Lee Songbaek

Goes to the rival university, but he’s pleasant to be around so the crew doesn’t hate him.

Majoring in photography and has a part-time job at a small café.

Has a clean style and wears a lot of university hoodies/sweaters. He’s really popular on social media, and he mostly posts his outfits, latte art, and his photography.

Jin Geumryong

Oh I hate writing about this man! I never know what to do with him.

About to graduate, and, like his brother, is at the top of his class. Idk what he’d do afterwards, but he’d definitely become an alumni in the future.

Unlike his brother, he still wears high-end clothes. He doesn’t wear logos because they’re tacky, though. His style is classy with a lot of white, blue, and occasionally black.

I feel like he’s moved out and has a really nice apartment. Has nice furniture and keeps it clean despite his busy academic schedule.

Chung Mei (OC)

Almost graduated with the degree her dad wanted, had an early-mid life crisis, took a few gap years, and went back to get the degree she wanted after talking to her sister about her troubles. Would want to major in something art, writing, or education-related.

Was on the dean’s list until she broke down. Her grades are still pretty good, but she doesn’t stress out over them like she used to.

Like Chung Myung, she’s in her 30s. Still has the same relationship history as the original timeline. (Rip)

A part-time student and spends a lot of her time working. I feel like she’d be the university’s anti-social librarian. She works hard but hates helping people because social anxiety. Really nice when she’s comfy with you, though.

Tutoring is held in the library, and DnD meetings are held in one of the spare meeting rooms. This is how she meets most of the crew.

Befriends Jo Gul because he once saw her reading a romance novel that was the source material for one of his favorite movies. Likes to attend Yunjong’s DnD meetings because she’s also obsessed with fantasy. Overall a really big romance/fantasy fan.

Tang Soso befriended her after complimenting her outfit. She basically adopted a second introvert.

Her favorite music genres are girly hyper pop and metal. Her fashion sense is similar; she can’t choose between pastel girly vibes or going full goth. She ends up mixing the two.

Lee Xue (OC)

If her social battery isn’t low, she’ll go drinking with Tang Bo and Chung Myung. She’d also rather drink at her and Lee Xue’s place instead of drinking in public bc she doesn’t trust strangers.

A cat woman in every universe.

Not connected to the university at all. She dropped out of high school, but ended up becoming a bartender. She makes really good money because of her extroversion, charming personality, and pretty looks. (And her big personalities-)

Flirted with one of the rival university’s students for fun. (Lee Songbaek) She thought his shy personality was cute and didn’t plan on going any further, but ended up in a relationship with him.

Before Chung Mei moved in with her, she didn’t take care of herself. Her diet mostly consisted of fast food or microwave dinners. She knows how to make a good drink, but sucks at cooking.

Now that Chung Mei lives with her, she has a healthier diet with more home-cooked meals. Lee Xue tries to thank her by occasionally making dinner, but her sister never eats her food and she can’t figure out why! :( (her cooking is more deadly than Tang poisons and she is not aware of this)

Never stopped loving y2k fashion. Has always rocked low-rise jeans even when they were out of style, and likes it when they’re ripped.

The reason why Chung Mei is into metal. Was in a band during high school/her early 20s, but they broke up and everyone went their separate ways. Looks back on those days fondly.

Still proficient in most string instruments, but only plays for fun now.

[rawrritzkacyyx3]

guys i’m gonna go flipping insane. i think my mam is gonna get me pierce the veil tickets for their show next year in manchester for their world tour. going flipping insane acc tweaking out