#i’m in luv

[littlemiss-sinister]

first post!!

NASHVILLE 3.15.2024

oc // my gif <33

[rheasbrvtality]

oh em gee

[wonderlessblog]

Having BillFord and WolverPool come out around the same time is overwhelming me the amount of GAY is too much I fear I might faint it’s all so glorious

[clovers-garden-co]

He kills women? Suddenly I'm a man ✨

…

pussy!

THAT WOULDNT STOP ME!!!!!

[elliesdoll]

i needed this so bad

a soft n smutty piece for fall coziness… <3 the changing seasons always make me feel melancholic and i feel like ellie would take care of r if she was the same :)

tw: depression, nsfw, 18+ only

the sun filters into your bedroom through the half-drawn curtains, a warm glow that paints everything golden. you stretch out under the covers, hand reaching for sunlight, palm open against the blankets as warmth envelops your fingers. numb with cold, you defrost.

even as your hand soaks in the warmth of the sun, guilt twists inside you, ice cold. the phone in the kitchen has rung out three separate calls today, shrill and blaring in the silence of your apartment; you've melted too deep into the mattress to answer. the kitchen may as well be miles away.

she’s probably worried, you fret. what if she thinks i’m dead? i need to call her back.

but as much as you want to force yourself to leave the comfort of your duvet, the you-shaped crater in the bed, you can’t do it. you just can’t.

you’re not surprised when you hear the sounds of your girlfriend’s arrival, ellie’s key scraping the lock before she swings the door open. you’d given her your spare key months ago. she’d only used it on days like this.

you hear the rustle of plastic, the harried zips and thumps of ellie removing her boots at the front door. and then she’s appearing in your doorway, her face twisted with worry; brows drawn together, lips turned downward. she looks heartbroken.

“baby,” she says, voice tinged with a cocktail of equal parts relief and concern, “god, i thought you were—”

“dead?” you interject. your voice softens when you add, “i’m okay, el. i’m sorry i didn’t pick up the phone.”

“no, it’s okay, don’t worry.” she pads over the worn carpet, plastic bag crinkling at her side as she approaches you on the bed. “i brought breakfast.”

she holds up the bag for emphasis; you can see three to-go boxes inside. the smell of hash browns and scrambled eggs and pancakes wafts out towards you, and you hate the way it makes your mouth water. she knows breakfast is your favorite. you can hardly resist it, even this late in the day, as the sun sets outside your window.

“thank you.” you smile up at her. it’s forced—it doesn’t meet your eyes. she notices, because she always does.

“you don’t have to eat right now,” she clarifies. hazel eyes swoop over the bed, appraising the blankets splayed out over you in disarray, and she hesitates. you hold out your hand for her in encouragement. “come here, ellie.”

so she does. she sets the bag of breakfast food on the nightstand, then climbs over you with a clumsiness that seeps through her caution. you smile. genuinely. and then she’s kissing you, soft lips pressed to yours as her auburn locks tickle your cheeks. the kiss is gentle and languid, slow and soft and encouraging. she tastes like home, and you realize you’ve been aching for this feeling all day, body numb in the confines of your bedroom. you lose yourself in her kiss, sighing deep through your nose. her tongue is warm and wet against your lower lip; she works your mouth open and licks into you, sending heat rushing to your belly where it pools like molten gold.

you’ve found yourself in a haze lately: a fog so thick that it blurs out all feeling, leaving you spent in the silence of your apartment even after days of doing nothing. days of just thinking.

but ellie breaks through the fog as her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing soothingly over the apples of your cheeks. her tongue slides deliciously over yours and you moan without thinking. she freezes for just a moment. she draws back and you nearly whine, eyes barely opening to peer up into his.

“we don’t have to do anything,” she assures you as she leans forward to kiss the bridge of your nose. “not if you’re feeling down.”

your heart swells with affection for her: her disheveled hair, her soft gaze, her flushed lips swollen from kissing. her consideration for you. her love.

“but i want to,” you breathe. “i want it, ellie.”

so she disappears into the crook of your neck, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver rocking through you as she presses kisses to your sensitive skin. each kiss gets more heated, her lips parting to suckle on the flesh right over your pulse. you moan and she pauses before murmuring against your throat, “are you sure?”

you nod almost frantically. “i’m sure, i’m sure.”

it doesn’t take long for her to undress you, which you’re grateful for. she works your shirt off and rolls your panties down your thighs, her hands smoothing back up over the supple skin.

on days like this, when you’re hardly afloat in the tidal wave of your melancholy, she tends to hold you with gentle wariness, as if you’d shatter if she moved too quickly. and you love it. the obvious adoration in her gentleness, in the need to take things slow.

but you decide you don’t want that today.

when her face is within reach again, you pull her in for a heated kiss. it quickly evolves into all tongue and spit and teeth, your lips smacking audibly as you trail your hands down her sides. you grip the soft cotton of her shirt and slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch by inch of pale, freckled skin, and when your fingers brush over her ribs, you feel the slow shudder that afflicts her. her body responding so instantly to your touch makes you dizzy with arousal; that pool of heat in your stomach grows ever-larger. it doesn’t help that she’s touching you too, the calloused pads of her fingers delicious against your skin. she grips and squeezes you in all the right places, drawing sharp breaths and high moans from your throat as her hands explore every inch of you.

suddenly, it’s hard to remember what came before this. the haze that had lingered over you for days. all you can think about is the feeling of ellie’s body against yours, her jeans scratchy as she rocks her hips down to yours. you hook your legs around her waist, bare cunt desperate for friction, even through a layer of denim.

you pull back from rushed, sloppy kisses to gasp at the sensation—you shamelessly rub yourself against her through her jeans, unable to find it in you to worry about the mess you’re making. ellie watches you in awe, your eyes half-lidded as your hips roll upward, your pretty lips parted in a delicate “o” shape.

“fuck it,” she rasps, and she’s lurching back to sit up on her heels, ripping her clothes off in a blur of fabric. her shirt falls off first, and then she works her way out of her jeans, so eager she stumbles a few times. you beam at her, eyes clouded with lust, and when she finds her way back between your legs, the feeling of her bare skin against yours has you gushing impossibly wetter. you find yourself in the same position as before, only now without the barrier of ellie’s clothes between you. you grind yourself up against her, twitching and gasping each time her pelvis glides over your clit; you can feel how wet you are, how messy you’re leaving her. and she can feel it, too, evident each time she moves her hips against yours and moans with her head tucked against your shoulder.

your impatience is a balloon that’s been filled and filled and filled, and it finally pops. you reach between your writhing bodies to ellie’s cunt; her teeth close around your shoulder when you give her clit a few slow strokes, fingertips pressing hard into the bundle of nerves. she soothes her bite with her tongue and then laughs under her breath, uttering lowly, “i’m sorry, fuck, just feels good.”

you hum in response, pausing to reach into the nightstand drawer, where you keep a harness and strap for situations like this. she draws in a shaky breath, turning her head to kiss your neck again, tongue circling your skin before she pulls back to slip into the harness. then she’s back on you, pulling you in for another heated kiss as she drags the tip of the strap through your folds and up to the bud of your clit. you’re soaked everywhere, and her cock feels so smooth as it glides effortlessly over you; you’re barely breathing.

ellie’s voice is in your ear, quiet but thick with lust. “let me eat you out first.”

and it sounds amazing, it really does. any other time, you’d relent, let her mouth at your cunt for hours until you’re so fucked-out you can’t think straight. but that’s not what you need right now.

“i need you inside me,” you tell her, voice low and sultry, almost unrecognizable from its usual timbre. ellie hears it, too, the husk in your tone making her grit her teeth with a low, gravelly moan. “shit, baby—can’t say no to that.”

she slides into you so easily, your cunt opening smoothly around her as she pushes in to the hilt. you both sigh in pleasure, you at the feeling of being so deliciously full, her at the satisfaction of watching your expression dissolve into pure bliss.

“so fuckin’ wet, goddamn,” ellie murmurs. she draws back only to fuck into you again, and you whine when she brushes up against the end of you. the spot that only she can find. that only spurs her on—she starts fucking you in earnest without much buildup, too pent up to be patient and slow and intentional. she knows what you want, you realize, flooded with arousal as her hips slam into yours. her strap drags perfectly through you, so deep you see stars behind fluttering eyelids.

“ellie,” you moan, brows pinched together, mouth hanging open.

she doesn’t slow down, skin smacking against skin as she fucks herself into you. “what do you need, baby? i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you anything.”

another moan tears out of your throat at her words, your arms moving up to snake around her neck and reel her in for another sloppy kiss. “more,” you gasp, your foreheads pressed together, slick with sweat. “more, please, more.”

ellie gives you one last, searing kiss, then pulls back to readjust. she stills inside you while she grabs hold of your legs, palms squeezing the doughy flesh of your thighs before she pushes them toward your chest. your knees are up by your shoulders like this, and you reach your hands around to support yourself, though your own touch can’t rival her. “good girl,” she praises when she notices what you’re doing, allowing your hands to replace her. she instead brings her attention to your hips, holding them still while she pulls almost all the way out and fucks back into you. and it’s rougher, now, more intentional. ellie moves faster, harder; you cry out a blissful oh my god, tears burning in your eyes from the sheer pleasure of it.

this is it—this is what you needed. and ellie gives it to you exactly how you want it, her body smacking against your ass and the backs of your thighs, her cock hitting that sweet spot within you so rhythmically that you find your brain is entirely empty. the ceaseless noise in your head has quieted, in its place is sheer pleasure.

your release sneaks up on you; you’re not thinking straight, overwhelmed with lust and the warmth it floods through your veins. you come suddenly but with so much force it nearly knocks the wind out of you. squirming and shaking under ellie’s towering form, your cunt spasms around the silicon cock and she groans out in delight.

spent, ellie lowers her weight on you, still careful not to crush you beneath her. you’re both catching your breath, but she can’t drive away the urge to kiss you. slower, this time. more loving.

“hey,” she says, “i love you.”

you smile against her lips, giving her another few pecks before you tell her, “i love you too.”

her arms are warm, lithe, and strong around you, holding you as close as she can. but when you start to wiggle underneath her, she groans in disapproval.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i just—i really wanna eat some pancakes.”

[justaweirdonothingtoseehere]

[wooneygoblin]

snowy mwah 😳

[poppitron360]

Rick Riordan: If I had a nickel for every time a son of Hephaestus died heroically in an explosion in the fifth book in my series, I’d have two nickels.

Rick Riordan: Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Rick Riordan: Unless…

Me *Standing protectively in front of of Harley*: No, Rick- please!!

[carnevol]

Bucky:

For @hogans-heroes

[v0nv]

some nygmobblepot drawings :3

[graycious-tea]

All yall saying Tommy calling Buck Evan is disrespectful and like malicious clearly don’t remember my man, fellow bi icon Magnus Bane calling his pookie Alec Lightwood, Alexander at any given moment despite no one calling him Alexander except his parents who also suck like my man was gone on that shadowhunter and so is Tommy!!!

[realprissygirl]

myscene x chanel x hayden williams

[josephtrohman]

oh :( <3

[katsukiiizbf]

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝..?

with xiao & wanderer...

somebody give this man a hug istg

hes traumatised. like??? having your friends killed is enough -- BUT THERES MORE?! like someone give him a break pls MY GOD

Anyway, itll take him a long time to open up, especially if your human (vision having or not) because of his karmic dept.

Once youve gained his trust through almond tofu, the barriers will slowly break down. It’ll probably start with him randomly appearing to gift you something once in awhile, or watching you from afar when your traveling.

then he’d develop feelings, acting with you how he does the traveler, more open, friendly. he’d appear out of nowhere just to talk to you.

but after endless days of his pining, he’ll kiss the back of your hand goodbye, a faint blush on his cheeks as he faces away from you, vanishing into the night -- left with the cool breeze against your fuming cheeks and butterflies in your stomach.

so yes, he is your baby girl, but with too much baggage for just him to carry.

oh? another dark haired anime boy with trauma? add that one to the list-- so yeah, hes traumatized, i mean no shit sherlock?? i lowkey felt bad for him during the sumeru archon quest :((

he’d obviously be distant at first, actively pushing you away (unlike xiao) in an attempt to avoid being abandoned again. But the stubborn side of you dosent give up.

you begin to follow him around like a lost puppy, no matter how much he complains. Wanderers delusions of ’i dont enjoy their company!’ quickly fade away when after months of traveling with you, you get a fever.

Despite his icy nature and sharp tongue, he finds that he genuinely cares for you, replacing the wet towel on your forehead, holding your hand when you seem to be in pain -- flushing when you wake up momentarily to feel his touch.

Hell gaze into your eyes while you stare into teyvats star-littered sky, admiring your beauty -- love?! No! No way! He could never fall for you and your stupid hair!

At this point hes beyond in denial -- delusional.

even nahida has caught on, the god who wishes to feel like a human does.

but once you prove you wont leave him, wont abandon him like he has been oh so many times before, his walls come crashing down -- atleast for you. His recognition of his feelings begins his downward spiral of finding the right time to confess.

a/n: requests are open!! and can someone give scara a hug :(((

[wntercafe]

takꫀ a bitꫀ ⠀ ʚིི༏ɞྀ⠀ ✩ .  ﾟ ࿔ ˖

[poppitron360]

Headcanon that there were a couple online chatrooms for new parents of demigods, so they can find a support network. (because chronologically speaking it was the 90s back when the Seven were born).

Sally meets this one woman from Texas, and they get to talking. She’s got a little boy, about a year younger than her Percy. They share stories about the constant anxieties of parenting a powerful demigod, the horrors of demigod pregnancy, the fears for their boys’ futures, the cute little moments when Percy drew his mommy as a mermaid. Esperanza is funny, and they become good friends despite the fact that they’d never met in person.

Eventually, though, school and work and Gabe all get in the way of things, and Sally and Esperanza lose touch. She still thinks about that woman, though, who was her only confidant in a freaky world. Her one place she could offload all the stresses of life. Her one… hope. She made Sally feel less like she was doing it all on her own. When she had to raise Percy all by herself, she was there. Their lives touched from across the country.

She tried to get back in contact, years later. No response.

She’s probably just not using that old messaging system anymore.

Sally wonders where she is now. She hopes she’s happy.