#i’m trying to post art around once a week

[amazingwriter101]

🎀Random Astrology Notes🎀

Hiii! It's been so long since the last time I posted (I was so busy at uni) I hope everyone is doing fine! 💙 Here's my random astro notes/observation 💋

🎀 Venus in Aquarius are likely attracted to someone who is intellectually stimulating, unconventional, and values independence. This placement desires a partner who embraces uniqueness, is open-minded, and engages in deep, thoughtful conversations. So someone who respects personal freedom and enjoys exploring new ideas will appeal to this placement.

🎀 Someone with Juno in Sagittarius seeks a lifelong/long-term partner who is adventurous, optimistic, and growth-oriented. Someone who shares a passion for travel, learning, and expanding horizons would be ideal. They value truth, honesty, freedom,and a relationship filled with excitement and exploration.

🎀 People with Water Rising + Earth Sun (especially Scorpio Risings) can leave a strong first impression. They will most likely come across as someone who is intense, ambitious, and confident with a hint of rebelliousness. Their aura feels like a combination of mystery, authority, charisma, and boldness.

🎀 Moon in Virgo is probably the perfectionist of the zodiac who can't relax until everything is labeled, organized, and sanitized. Your idea of emotional security? A perfectly curated to-do list and color-coded spreadsheets for feelings and activities. One of the best people to give constructive criticism (unless you're very sensitive, believe me their words can hurt even tho most of the time they don't mean to hurt you.) They see emotions are just puzzles waiting to be solved.

🎀 Leo Moon + Scorpio Rising = walking contradiction. Their duality is wild. Enigmatic, mysterious, private mask with the scorpio rising while the leo moon screams for applause, admiration and center of attention. it's like "Hey, notice me but don't make it obvious." "look but don't touch." such a power play.

🎀 Venus in Pisces is the hopeless romantic that probably see red flags as a beautiful shade of crimson and admire it. Stop saying you can fix someone, you can't! Please stop falling for potentials and trying to save individuals who doesn't even want to be saved. Forget the "Love is sacrifice", you're not their therapist, and martyrdom isn't sexy.

🎀 Venus in Leo folks love to make an entrance—they’re like DIVA of relationships. They expect their partners to shower them with attention, affection, and maybe a red carpet once in a while. If they’re not getting enough adoration, they might just start singing “Single Ladies” to themselves.

🎀 Moon in Aquarius person feels more at home in a group chat about physics than on a cozy night in with a romantic partner. They’re super into ideas, innovation, and making a difference—but don't ask them to express their feelings too much. You might get a "let's analyze this emotionally" instead of a hug. Might not work with someone who wants a lovey-dovey affectionate relationship.

🎀 Saturn in Taurus is the person who buys the most reliable, sturdy chair at the furniture store... and then waits 20 years to get a new one because "it’s perfectly fine." They have an unshakable commitment to stability and material comfort, but they might be a little too attached to their "favorite" blanket—don’t even think about touching it.

🎀 Venus Conjunct Mars in natal chart is like the romantic-comedy genre. The chemistry is palpable, and there’s a lot of flirtation, passion, and energy flying around. They’re the kind of person who can turn a quick coffee date into a whirlwind romance—and probably end up with matching tattoos by the end of the week.

🎀 Venus in Aquarius is the quirky, "I’m not like other people" type of lover. They’re attracted to what’s unique, eccentric, or revolutionary. Their idea of a perfect date might involve a debate about the future of technology or attending an avant-garde art exhibit. Forget the traditional romantic gestures—they’d rather build a robot together.

🎀 Venus in Taurus is the ultimate “Netflix and chill” person—literally. If you know the tiktoker that lives the fancy life, eating steak, travelling and enjoying? That's a good definition of Taurus and their ideal life. They value comfort, stability, and all the luxuries of life, especially good food and soft blankets. They’ll adore you with cuddles, gifts, and the finest chocolate—because who wouldn’t want to spoil their lover with cozy indulgences? But if you try to rush them, you might find yourself in a battle of wills. They prefer slow, steady love that’s built to last… with a side of gourmet snacks.

🎀 Venus in Cancer is a cuddly, emotional romantic 🦀 who wants to build a cozy home with their partner—and maybe a family of cats while they’re at it. They’re deeply sentimental and love making their loved ones feel cared for with homemade meals and personalized gestures. If you can make them feel safe, you’ll have their heart forever. Just don’t mess with their emotional boundaries, because they’re like a fortress when it comes to protecting their feelings.

🎀 Venus in Aries is like the spark that lights the fire of romance. They fall fast and love fiercely, but their attention span can be as short as a Snapchat story. The thrill of the chase is their thing—so, if you're playing hard to get, you're already ahead of the game. Once they're in a relationship, expect passionate moments, spontaneous adventures, and lots of energy.

🎀 Mars in Taurus is like the bulldozer of the zodiac—slow and steady, but extremely determined. They have an impressive amount of stamina and will stick with a task until it’s done right. Unlike the fiery Aries, Taurus likes to take their time and get things done with quality. Want them to rush? Good luck! They’ll just give you the side-eye and continue on at their own pace. But if you need someone reliable who’s not going to give up, this is your person.

🎀 Mars in Virgo is like a military general with a perfectly organized schedule. These folks are action-oriented, but they’re not impulsive—they want to make sure that every detail is sorted before they go charging ahead. They’re fantastic at problem-solving, and they approach challenges with a calm, methodical attitude. They’re not about drama—they’re about efficiency. But be warned: they might become slightly perfectionistic and a little too focused on the fine print, which could slow things down.

[kybercrystals94]

Six Weeks (Part 3)

Read here on Ao3!

<<Previous Part | Next Part>>

Rated: T | Words: 917

A/N: Ugh! This chapter has been giving me the run around; however, I wanted to assure you that I haven't given up on this fic...it's just taking longer than I'd like...so I decided to post what I've written so far with the promise that I will get this story wrangled eventually 🥲

In the Rebellion, Omega is a captain. She has rebel fighters under her command and direction. She gives orders and they are followed. She plans missions and carries them out successfully. She is trusted, respected, and capable of any feat given to her. 

On Pabu…

“You better not try to get up while I’m gone,” Crosshair says, arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowed. 

Omega sighs, picking at a loose thread on the hem of Wrecker’s old shirt. “Yeah, so you’ve said. Twice.” 

“Because it’s important that you listen.” 

“AZI said I could walk around on my leg as long as I’m careful,” Omega protests, and she hates that her tone comes out almost whiny. “So did the medics at the base. You guys are making a bigger deal out of this than it is.”

“Humor us then.” Crosshair doesn’t wait for her to snark something back before he walks away. The front door opens and shuts, and she is left in the quiet house by herself. 

Wrecker is down at the docks to buy fresh fish for dinner, and Hunter still hasn’t returned from wherever he disappeared to. Crosshair didn’t say where he was going; however, Omega hopes that it’s to find Hunter. She’d go herself if it weren’t for the overbearing nanny droid that looks suspiciously like an ex-Republic sniper. 

Omega pulls out her data pad and sends Hera a message. You’ll be happy to know that my brothers are being as insufferable as you hoped.

The reply comes a moment later. Good. I better not see you for six weeks.

Yes, sir, Omega types back, hoping Hera reads it with its intended sarcasm. 

That taken care of, Omega tosses her data pad to the other end of the couch and sinks back into cushions. She looks around the main room, searching for things that might have changed while she’s been away; however, it is exactly as she remembers. Her brothers’ valiant attempts at home decor are still scattered throughout the room. Endearing eyesores, Echo had called them once when Omega complained about Wrecker putting up a piece of rusted metal he’d fished out of the sea.  

“He said it’s his favorite shape,” Omega had groaned, laughing. “I don’t even know what that shape is!” 

Hunter had bought a painting from the market that he claimed was abstract art; however, everyone knew that it was just a horribly, awfully painted tooka. Its eyes seemed to follow you around the room, becoming an inside joke: the tooka sees everything. However, Hunter will defend the “art’s” honor to his dying breath. 

Then there was Crosshair’s contribution, which Omega swears he did just because he knew it would annoy her. He collects rocks. Not pretty or unique rocks. Plain, nondescript, ugly rocks. He keeps hanging up shelves to display them on, and he makes them placards to note where they were found and the date.

“Rock.” Found: South Beach, Main Island, Pabu. Date: 15 BBY. 

“Rock.” Found: Left Boot, Main Island, Pabu. Date: 12 BBY. 

Omega does notice that a shelf has been added and a new row of rocks begins to line the plank of wood. She rolls her eyes. Omega decides that she will not give her brother the satisfaction of knowing whether or not she’s noticed. The perfect payback, because she knows he’ll never ask. 

**

“We’ve had worse injuries,” Crosshair says behind him. 

Hunter scoffs, seizing another weed by its base and yanking it out of the ground. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

“No,” Crosshair says, moving to lean against the wall, “just stating a fact.” 

“Appreciate it,” Hunter growls, rummaging through the foliage of the garden for another imposter. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t storm further away from the house.”

“I didn’t storm.” 

Crosshair huffs. “You had us fooled.” 

Hunter sits back on his heels and glares up at his youngest brother. “If you’re out here just to offer commentary, I really don’t need it right now.” 

“Oh, really,” Crosshair drawls. “And what do you need?” 

“I need to not think about it right now,” Hunter bites out, dusting the dirt from his hands. “I don’t want to think about Omega almost dying. I don’t want to think about her putting herself at risk every single day. I don’t want to think about the fact that we aren’t there to protect her because…” 

“We’re old?” Crosshair supplies.

Hunter makes a face. “That’s not why.” 

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “Whatever our reasons are for not fighting, it doesn’t matter…Omega’s made her choice. So don’t think about all that entails right now…because you have no control over any of it anyways. Instead, think about the fact that Omega’s stuck with us for the next six weeks and what we’re going to do with her while she’s in captivity.”

Hunter scoffs, moving to stand up and accepting Crosshair’s outstretched hand when it’s offered. “I forgot how poetic you are.” 

“One of my many talents,” Crosshair says loftily, but he moves his hand to Hunter’s shoulder, gripping it tight. “But I mean it, Hunter. We’re going to put our opinions aside, enjoy the time we have with her. Yeah?” 

Hunter swallows and nods. 

“Good.” 

As they start for the back door, Crosshair asks, “Do you think Omega’s noticed my new shelf of rocks.” 

Hunter grins. “She won’t say if she has.” 

“Brat,” Crosshair grumbles. 

“Says the one who keeps a rock collection just to annoy her,” Hunter says, bumping against Crosshair. 

Crosshair smirks. “A foundless accusation.”

TBC

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[frayedcircus]

look who it is again….

this guy

[chocum]

COMING DOWN !

— bunched up, sweet little whimpers, he always gets so sensitive under your touch feat. choso kamo

WARNINGS. femreader (she/her) x goodguy!cho :3 mentions of violence/death, sub cho, dom reader, overstimulation, begging, blowjob, premature ejaculation ;( crying + 1.2k wc note. i’m so insane abt choso it’s actually scary, he’s all i think about. tysm for all the support on my first post. love u all! feedback + reblogs are appreciated! also art by @/swag_yay on x. ty again & enjoyyy ᡣ𐭩

choso hated missions with a passion that pierced his very soul.

his cursed energy manipulation and combat skills are unrivaled, making him crucial to a mission’s success, but the relentless nature of them drained him beyond words— both mentally and physically.

they feel so repetitive: eliminate curses, protect civilians, prevent damage. eliminate curses, eliminate curses, eliminate.

he has always been driven by a deep desire to protect everyone he could, especially those who were unable to do so themselves, but the constant cycle of violence and death confused him—wrestling with self-doubt, doing mental gymnastics, trying to justify his actions. the cognitive strain became a heavy burden that compounded during missions, further exhausting him like heavy buckets of water dousing an already flickering flame.

and after meeting you — his sweet, sweet girl — his hatred for missions only grew.

the ache of missing you constantly gnawed at him. your homey scent. your taste still fresh on his tongue, preventing him from concentrating because, in his mind, he’s still tangled in your sheets, stealing sweet kisses that linger on his lips long after they’ve left yours.

when out scouting, he would catch glimpses of couples hand in hand in the streets sporting deep smiles, making his stomach twist— his brows pinching together, deepening the ridge between them.

his sole solace was the thought of returning home to his pretty girl once everything was over— it pushes him to keep going, to keep fighting, even avoiding shoko because he preferred your clumsy little hands to patch him up.

finally done with his latest three-week mission — a seeming eternity away from you — he was being driven to your place, to you, home.

head lolling back against the car seat, he spreads his legs wider, rolling his hips to adjust himself, before sinking, letting the leather seat swallow him whole. he tilts his head to the side, deep purple irises flickering, to watch the familiar scenery— large leafy trees crowding the darkening highway under evening skies.

after he waved his goodbyes, giving thanks to his driver, he stumbled up to the door, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the keys underneath the dim light of the porch. on the other side, the distinct sound of the lock clicking open causes you to bolt up, rushing to greet him.

he pushes it open and there you are. looking up at him with that big smile he adores so much lighting your face— pretty eyes sparkling with relief. you squeal and fling your arms around him without hesitation and he does the same, burying his face into the side of your neck, feeling your hair brush against him, inhaling deeply.

you always smelled so good— a blend of your natural scent and hints of vanilla from your body wash. he’s been craving that scent for so long, growing dizzy now that it finally embraces him, his body falling limp, so weak in your smaller arms.

you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, fingers gently tracing the smooth lines on his face— lines that seemed deeper since you’d last seen him.

“i missed you so much” you hummed faintly as he cupped your face, nuzzling your warm cheeks against his rough hands.

“i missed you so much more”

he leaned down to find your lips. they felt so much softer than he remembered. kissing you deeply, his calloused hand cradling the back of your neck, drawing you closer into the warmth of his embrace.

and when you moan against him— oh, it sounds so sweet, the blood rushing to his cock so quickly. next thing he knows, he’s rutting against your thigh, pressing against you so, so desperately, almost mounting you.

“what’s wrong cho?” a soft whine escapes him at the sudden loss of contact, “tell me, baby, use your words”

“i’m sorry,” he breathes, a pretty blush crawling up his neck, “just missed you so much— got excited”

“i know, my pretty boy, but ‘m here now, okay? let me take care of you. i know you missed it.” you take his hand, drawing him to your room as he follows obediently, shutting the door behind him, “did you touch yourself without me?”

he shakes his head, his fluffy hair cascading down to rest on his shoulders. “you .. you told me not no”

“good boy”

you push against his shoulders, gently guiding him to sit on the bed, his breath hitching so sweetly watching you lift yourself to straddle his waist. connecting your lips once more, hips grinding against him so slowly— rocking back and forth. his mouth now tinted pink and tenderly swollen from your ardent kisses, you move down to his neck planting a trail of light ones along the sensitive skin, each touch eliciting subtle little quivers and soft exhales. his fists bunch up the sheets, he—

“sorrysorrysorry” he babbles breathlessly— endlessly, his pants turning damp, material darkening as his cock twitches and pulses so cutely, cum drooling out his sensitive slit, “just feel so good against me. been so long. couldn’t even touch myself when you sent those pictures. it’s so sensitive”

“shhhh ‘s okay, cho.” a finger pressed against his pout— pushing its way in for him to suckle on warmly before you slide down to your knees. trailing your hands down his thighs, tugging on the hem of his pants, “i’ll clean you up”

he’s still so hard— his tip blushing, crying white cream, and when you take him in your hands, his hips jerk up for you— body still coming down from his high and you’re already taking him in your mouth, cruelly, licking fat stripes up his twitchy length.

“fuck ‘s too much baby, i just- wai, wait, please.” he’s pawing at you, pushing against your head, but he sounds too cute, crying and whimpering around you for you to stop— looks too cute with the prettiest pink blush shrouding his body from the tips of his heated ears to his curled toes.

you gargle and gag around his cock— exaggerating the sounds because you know it drives him insane. he loves when you get so nasty and messy for him, foamy spit bubbling around where his cock plugs your mouth up. your hands move to cup his warm balls, caressing and squeezing gently, coaxing him to cum for you again.

“ah f- baby, i’m so fucking— please. wanna cum for— you. gonna be so good, gonna—”

he cums salty, thick stripes straight down your warm throat with a whine so pretty you wish it was recorded so you could play it over and over and over.

and he’s crying— it’s too much, feels too good — sweetly hiccuping, sniffing as he hides his face behind his hands. such a pretty boy. he’s growing limp in your mouth and you pull off with a whine before kissing up his shaky legs.

“did so good for me, cho, missed having you like this” lightly moving his hands to pet at his damp cheeks, watching keenly how he leans into your touch, wiping pretty doll-like tears with your thumbs.

knowing that he has you to take such good care of him once he’s home will forever ease his mind while he’s away, a comforting thought that lingers like a soft embrace, even in your absence.

[stop4death]

confessions

note: i'm not a good writer i apologize in advance. but i have challengers brain rot and can't stop thinking about it so i had to write this. thinking about writing fem!reader x tashi next (reader is lowkey in love with tashi as well in this one in my mind) lmk if u like this and maybe i will

pairing: stanford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader

summary: since you started at stanford, you’ve been avoiding your close high school friend, art, and you’re pretty sure he’s been avoiding you, too. when he shows up to the tennis courts while you’re playing with your roommate and asks to talk, some confessions are made.

warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, sub!art donaldson, soft dom!reader, angst, fluff, grinding, hand job, praise, aftercare (reader loves art sm), art is pathetic (in a good way i love him), please lmk if i forgot anything

word count: 1.9k

posted: may 27th 2024

It’s been a little over a month since you started at Stanford. With the stress of all your classes, homework, club meetings, and private out-of-season training for tennis, it feels like you can never catch a break. To make things even worse, you’ve been actively avoiding your close high school friend, Art. You promised each other you’d stick together at school while your best friend, Tashi, and her boyfriend, Art’s best friend, Patrick, are touring. Now, you haven’t heard from him, and haven’t tried to reach out to him either. When your roommate found out you’re a tennis player, she asked if you’d be willing to teach her how to play. You happily agreed, so you’ve been going down to the courts and playing with her once a week. Today, your heart jumped out of your chest and you almost dropped your racket when you were teaching your roommate how to backhand and Art walked in, sitting down in the stands.

“You okay?” your roommate asks, concerned by your sudden change in demeanor. She looks back to where you were looking and sees Art, then turns back to you confused.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine” you say unconvincingly, and serve the ball. She doesn’t press any further, so you continue with the lesson, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach.

You can’t help but keep glancing up at Art. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got there. Once you finish up her lesson, you say goodbye to your roommate and nervously walk up to the stands where Art is sitting.

“Hi.” you say softly, scratching at your palm anxiously.

“Hi. How have you been?” he asks, seemingly genuine.

“Um… I-I’ve been good. How about you?” you stutter, your heart racing.

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” you sit down next to him, but he shakes his head.

“Privately?” he looks around at the few people who are on the tennis courts, including your roommate who’s still slowly packing up her bag and glancing up at you confoundedly.

The knot in your stomach twists even tighter, but you nod your head in agreement, standing up. You follow him out of the tennis courts and towards one of the dorm buildings. He unlocks a door on the first floor, gesturing for you to enter. As you walk into your friend’s dorm room for the first time, you look around. Your lips curve up slightly and you feel a warmth in your chest when you notice a photo of yourself with Art on a wall of photos of his friends and family. Your apprehensive look returns when you turn back towards the door as he shuts it behind him, standing awkwardly in the middle of his room. You’ve never been a fan of confrontation, but you should have prepared for it when you decided to completely ghost one of your best friends with no explanation.

“You can sit down, you know.” he says casually.

You glance between his desk and his bed, ultimately opting for the desk chair. You face the chair out away from the desk and sit down. He sits down on his bed, facing you.

“Nice room.” you say awkwardly, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” he says plainly. You suddenly feel like you might vomit at any second. You would rather be six feet underground than in Art’s dorm room having this conversation right now.

“I didn’t mean to, I’ve just… been so busy with classes and clubs and training I guess I haven’t gotten the chance to text you.” you lie. And he sees right through it.

“Can you be serious… Why haven’t you talked to me since we got here?”

You take a deep breath, and look down at your hands. Trying to think of any other way you can stretch the truth and not have to tell him what you’re about to tell him, but your mind has gone blank. You look back up at him, realizing you have no choice but to be honest.

“Art I-” you try to find the words, your heart racing even faster. “I, um… back in high school, I had this… huge crush on you." Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you stutter through the confession you've held onto for years, and you continue awkwardly, “And I knew you had a thing for Tashi, and it hurt because obviously who could ever compete with Tashi. She’s literally perfect. So over the summer, like a week before school started, Tashi and I were drunk and I decided to block your number. I thought maybe it would help me move on, start fresh, you know? I didn't want to keep being just friends and feeling, I don't know, awkward around you." You shift uncomfortably, the weight of your words heavy on your shoulders. "Honestly, I forgot I even did it until now. I thought maybe you were avoiding me, too, or… I don't know, I guess I just didn't think it through. I'm sorry, Art. If you don't hate me now, could we maybe try being friends again? I've moved past that crush, I promise. I won’t let it get in the way again.”

You try to make the last part sound as convincing as possible. You don’t think you’ll ever be over your crush on Art. He just sits there and listens as you talk. His expression is unreadable, and for a moment, you fear you've said too much. You look down again, fearing his response.

“Why didn’t you tell me before… that you had a crush on me?”

“Cause you liked Tashi. Like everyone else.”

“Tashi was always just a friend to me. I liked you.”

You look at him as if he must be lying, searching for any hint of irony in his tone or facial expression.

“I still do.” he says softly, and the knot in your stomach is replaced with butterflies.

You stand up from the chair, and Art looks at you with concern, thinking you’re about to walk out. You take a few steps forward and sit down next to him on his bed, your knees brushing together.

“I still like you, too.” you whisper and put a hand on his cheek. You slowly lean closer to him, and press your lips against his. His lips are soft and they taste of cigarettes and watermelon lime ChapStick, his favorite. You’ve dreamed about this taste for years. He places a hand on your thigh, deepening the kiss. You quickly move to straddle his lap. Your hands twist in his soft strawberry blond hair as you kiss him sloppily, as if you were trying to consume him. You feel his erection growing under you and grind your hips down against him, making him moan softly into the kiss. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he quickly removes it, tossing it carelessly across the room, then smashes his lips back against yours hungrily. His hand moves up your thigh to the waistband of your skirt.

“So impatient.” you say with a smirk, moving your head down to kiss his neck and taking his hand in yours, moving it away from your waistband. He whimpers at the feeling of you sucking and nibbling gently on his neck. You kiss up his neck and jawline then back to his lips quickly before pulling away. You move off his lap and sit further back on his bed, spreading your legs slightly and patting the space between them.

“Come sit here.”

He looks at you a bit confused, but he obeys. He sits between your legs on the bed, his back to you. You move your hands slowly over his arms and chest, kissing his neck from behind, bringing back the sweet sounds of his whimpering. He closes his eyes and leans his head back on your shoulder, giving you better access to his neck. He moans softly, reveling in the feeling of your lips and hands on him. You tease him, moving your hand slowly down his abdomen and stopping just before his waistband, then moving back up slowly. You do this a few times before he can’t take it anymore and his hips buck upwards, begging for your touch.

“Such a pretty boy… you want me to touch you?” you tease, speaking softly against his neck and driving him insane. He whimpers, nodding his head eagerly.

“Use your words.” you whisper in his ear. His hips buck up again, a needy whine escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps out, his voice soft and needy, “please touch me, I want you so bad.”

You smirk and move your hands to the waistband of his pants, tugging down gently. He wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers off in one quick movement.

“Good boy.” you say softly, sliding your hand down his abdomen. A strangled moan leaves his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock and start to stroke him. His hips jerk up, desperate for more friction.

“Fuck” he gasps out, his voice a husky whisper. You continue to stroke him slowly, your other hand wandering over his chest and abs, kissing his neck occasionally.

“Love hearing your moans… such a good boy for me.” you say softly in his ear. He can’t contain his whimpers as you continue.

“Feels… so good.” he chokes out through moans, leaning his head back on your shoulder again. He lets out a low moan as you kiss his neck again, panting heavily.

“Such a good boy.” you emphasize, playing with his hair with your other hand.

“Yes, I am… such a good boy for you.”

You can tell that he’s close to the edge.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes… yes.” he gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes heavily. You stroke faster now, and he lets out a loud moan as he finally lets go, cumming hard on your hand. He pants heavily as he leans back against you, trying to catch his breath. “Thank you.”

You move your hand up to your mouth, licking some of his cum off and swallowing it, then moving your hand to his mouth. He knows exactly what you’re asking of him. His breath hitches at the sight, and he leans forward to lick the rest of his cum off your hand. He swallows then closes his eyes and leans his head back against your shoulder.

“You did so good for me, angel. My good boy.” you wrap your arms around him, holding him close and rubbing his stomach as he recovers. He lets out a contented sigh as he leans back into you further, his body still trembling slightly. He puts his arms over yours, holding onto you tightly as he catches his breath. You let him lean on you for a few more minutes, still rubbing his stomach, before the two of you lay down, you still holding him from behind. He turns over to face you, his lips curling into a smile. You smile back at him and put a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently.

“I missed you so much. Please, don’t ever leave me again.”

His words are like a shot to the heart. You still feel like a horrible person for the way you hurt him, but one thing about Art is he could never hate you, no matter what you do. You pull him close, stroking his hair gently as you whisper, “I won’t. Ever. I promise.”

[felassan]

Snippets 🐺💜

Users report that pre-orders they made to TFAW of the DA:TV artbook The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard have been cancelled (since its listings were taken down like Dark Horse's were)

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John: "the wildest thing about being creative director is that about once every two weeks someone says 'hey this bizarre thing here is part of your job can you do it'. and it is a thing that you KNEW someone did but you never thought about which someone. congratulations, you are that someone" [source]

User: "The Evanuris are banished forever, he says. 👀". Trick: "Forever-ish" [source]

John: "me: it’s weird how a lot of fans think I hate Solas, it’s absolutely wild. also me: I should photoshop Solas into the ‘we demand to be taken seriously’ picture" [source]

Carly: "i can see the light at the end of the tunnel, everyone,,,, s o o n 🥴" [source]. / "I honestly can’t wait til we share more !" [source]. / User: "do you ever look at people’s reactions and theories on here like 🙂‍↔️ you people have no idea what’s coming". Carly: "Oh absolutely lmaooo" [source]

Carly: "I deleted it but I posted in our slack like “pls just tell them smtg, the clowns make me sad ):” lolol" [source]. (note: fans have been joking around and calling themselves clowns hhh, in the age-old tradition of DA clowning) "this is me empathizing and feeling bad we aren’t giving as much info (altho epler be goin off), rereading it sounds like I’m going *points* look at how pathetic those clowns are lol" [source]. / "its like we can finally yell about our work but only in limited quantities and basically at the same time fans find out things lolol oh ya and the ea snipers" [source]

Violet: "I might be screaming into the wind, but there's nothing underhanded going on. Release date is coming in August like we already said (so very soon)" / "roadmap will be very soon with some nuggets of what will be coming in August." [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Violet: "I made the announcement [in the Discord about Edge magazine's article], and it's kinda damned if you do, damned if you dont. If you do, people that ONLY want the biggest beats get mad. If you don't, people that want any scrap of news get mad. Personally, I think going towards the latter is better overall. But I'm sorry it wasn't what you expected. I am also a DA fan and care enormously about this project." [source: the official BioWare Discord]

User: "How do we all think the companions for Veilguard flirt?". Violet: "depends on the companion fsfs" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Violet: "soon™️" / "(not trying to be a shit, it will be soon! its a holdover joke from my last studio, i have to put the ™️ every time, its a sickness)" / "real talk, im just as feral as you guys when it comes to DA" / "[re: John being aware of a meme] that doesnt surprise me, [John] gets around 👀" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

[johnnyutah]

average adam faulkner stanheight fan: if adam isn’t in saw xi we riot! @lionsgate @kevingruetert @jameswan #adamlives #justiceforadam #corpseinconsistencies

average john kramer fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

average jill tuck fan: Appreciation post for the Women of Saw 🩷 [the same ten photos that get posted once a week]

average lawrence gordon fan: last night i watched a 2004 tv movie about serial killers called ‘the riverman’, followed by the cheesy family rom-com ‘a castle for christmas’. today my friends and i are going to binge the entire third season of netflix’s ‘stranger things’. none of us have seen a single episode of the rest of the show and we don’t plan on it. then we might rewatch ‘another country’ together

average amanda young fan: sorry i haven’t been online in 4 weeks i’ve been too busy trying to get the new pig cosmetic in the rift [posted 7 weeks ago]

average mark hoffman fan: [underneath a gifset of costas mandylor in a republican christian propaganda ‘sci-fi’ movie] #hes so fucking hot #i would give anything to put him in a sports bra and make him do jumping jacks in front pf me i would literally do #ANYTHING #i need to make him into a marionett and fist him lol

average daniel rigg fan: Here’s a quick low effort doodle I did of Daniel! I just love him so much ❤️ [a literal masterpiece, the best art you’ve ever seen in your entire life] [3 notes]

average allison kerry fan: i am hardcore attached to ONE ship which is probably either allison/amanda or allison/lindsey and my whole blog is devoted to them. there are dozens of us DOZENS

average lynn denlon fan: okay so i know bahar is a realtor now but in her last instagram post where she’s congratulating her son on some new achievement, both the first and last words in the post have 11 letters, AND there’s an X and an I visible in the background of her post 👀?? is this a reach???

average jeff denlon fan: No seriously let me finish seriously when you compare him to the other shitty men in Saw he’s NOT that b

average david tapp fan: i’m 39k away from publishing my 40k tappsing Everybody Lives AU <3 this is going to be epic [account has been deactivated for an indeterminate amount of time]

average brit stevenson and mallick scott fan: Hey I stayed up making this instead of writing my thesis paper for grad school. Here’s a 30,000 word document about the implications of Brit’s promotion within the Marshford group and how it would lead to her eventual demise and also how she rose to the top in her group. It also delves into her relationship with Mallick, whose existence, I believe, is an obvious literary reference to an ancient Roman play read by only me and three other people currently alive. I translated relevant passages and included them in my work. I got understimulated around page 8 so I did take a break to pierce myself in the same spot that I believe Mallick would have a piercing. If you read my fics on AO3 you will already be familiar with the location.

average peter strahm fan: haha peter does CRACK cocoaine haha i think he sniffeds some drugs! why else would he be so MANIC HYPER CRAZY!!! i love my crazy JUNKIE man LOL get him some andderall STAT!! if hoffman didn’t kill him the SPEED certianly would of! LOL!

average lindsey perez fan: i love lindsey perez i’m such a big fan of the character lindsey perez

average matt gibson fan: i literally would eat garbage out of a dumpster

average ezekiel banks fan: holy shit i just finished spiral what a good movie what the hell!!! what a cool addition to the saw universe! i bet everybody else loves this as much as i do! let me take a big drink of water as i check tumblr dot com to see all the nice things people will have to say about darren lynn bousman’s Spiral

average william schenk fan: my hobbies include: being a fujoshi,

average cecelia pederson fan: [pic of cecelia yanking on the metal loop around her neck and smirking] https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vT3f5IIzt5PG-M7G9_Z-gjY4gZaiUneTdMlYrFAcdBGcJo0-N-RDQcj2JfxOaBTxKa6J_DiDQNgqVpg/pub

average logan jigsaw fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

[princesssmars]

a few ellie headcanons bc i like her c: sfw.

she is a backpack lesbian. always has a tiny backpack. they are always black or a dark green. will sometimes get a patterned one. maybe has bananas on it. wants to put stickers on basically all of them but won’t because she gets paranoid they’ll get ruined.

i can’t find the post and ong i don’t remember what type of snack girlie i said ellie was but yes. this bitch loves snacks. always snacking. had a four month long addiction to jello it was a little scary.

she can cook for herself! she can make a damn good burger. hates tomato’s because she’s a baby 👎🏽

feel like she likes the weirdest cereals ever…like bae why are you eating kit kat cereal

runs super cold and always has a blanket. lovesss those super thick fluffy blankets that make you wanna fall asleep immediately. begged joel for one of those full body blanket snuggie things and he kept forgetting so she bought a matching dinosaur set with jessie and she loves it.

despite running cold her bedroom fan has not turned off in thirty years.

loves trivia. likes to play are you smarter than a fifth grader because you are NOT gonna catch her fuckin lackin.

likes mixmatched socks. her dryer is always eating half of her pairs so she grows to like it.

calls things pretentious and overrated as a joke bc she is annoying. watching a popular movie? she hates it the author is trying too hard. if she has a letterboxd she is either giving the most in depth review you’ve ever seen or a five star rating with a “cool”.

super nervous at the start of relationship yo show affection but when she’s locked in she is always on you…cuddles all the time. if you’re getting up to do something she is gripping around your waist. it’s cute until you need to go to the bathroom and she is insistent on going with you. once when she was high she told you she’d get a second toilet so you could go together 🫤

playstation girl yawn. she was hyped for elden ring then got her ass beat and didn’t play for a month before randomly deciding to finish it in two weeks.

whoever said she loves spongebob first was right…binges regular show when high. loves breaking bad. will act like she doesn’t like romance shows but if you make her watch the first episode she hasssss to finish it she can’t help ittt… sorry not sorry i’m making her watch bridgerton.

secretly watches those family guy adhd tiktoks

has a habit of watching movies through tiktok

and those space tiktok’s… comparing the gravity of different planets, what’s it’s like to fall through jupiters atmosphere.

likes orcas… watches marine life documentaries and gets emotional.

would know ur birth chart. ever forget ur big three signs? she knows. kind of scary. weird talent. doesn’t believe in astronomy buts knows every basic fact about every sign?? 😭

has two instagrams. her main is for her art and to post pictures with her friends and you. second she posts anything. and i do mean anything. will go from an introspective into idk why hoodwinked is underrated to

loves green it’s literally her color. needs some green in her dorm/apartment. thinks about this ahead of time so when she’s in middle school she starts buying tiny plants to take care of. at the start they’d die in like a week but now she has a dozen and they’re all healthy <3

bunch of posters on her bedroom walls. hates bare walls.

likes to try new hobbies every so often! is lazy about working out but when she does she gets on the treadmill and doesn’t break a sweat no matter how fast. kind of scary.

likes to go on the most random dates. you’ll be sitting on the couch and she’ll show you some random restaurant she saw on like instagram and be like let’s go. right now.

likes when you touch her hair. rest her on top of you while watching a movie and run your fingers through her hair? she’s out like a light. if you want to try different styles on it at home she will let you. doesn’t care if she has stupid looking like stubs everywhere she’s like c:

jesse told her she had a fuck ass bob once and she almost hit him :c

such a bike girl omg. i know she used to put water bottles in the back to make it sound like a motorcycle.

who first came up with that she loves spongebob because you’re so right. tried to act like she’s grown out of it but when she’s high and you’re trying to go to bed she’ll whisper “twenty five” to herself and laugh for five minutes straight.

spider-man girl because she’s cool.

pretends to hate all the dumb nicknames you give her when she does stuff. she makes a pb&j? shes now 'ellie jellie' for the rest of the week. has a stomach ache? now she gets to hear 'ellie bellie' for a month.

links for palestine, sudan, drc

[schoute]

Nobody look at me I'm posting self-indulgent oc x canon art and fic (under the cut) 🙈

Warnings: NSFW THERE'S COCK TALK and canon typical violence so unless you're an adult don't click.

A swirl of fragrant smoke whirled around Crocodile's head as he exhaled with a hard sigh.

What had started out like any other day had quickly devolved into irritating chaos.

It wasn't the first time the Revolutionary Army had sought him out, keen on trying to get their hands on his imported weapons. In fact, it was the second time, most recently, that they'd tried.

The second time she had tried.

Peachy hair danced across his mind, with her frilly shorts and lilting chuckle, and Crocodile bit down hard on his cigar. It was the second time Kerry Corduroy had tried to steal from him.

He wasn't a forgiving man, and the first time she'd tried to raid his weapons supplies with a plucky little crew of Revolutionaries he'd sent her hobbling back to her ship with a gouge from his hook in her thigh.

A blast in the distance rattled the crystal ashtray on his desk, and Crocodile's hooked arm twitched reflexively, Kerry's toned, bloody thigh floating through his memory.

He'd have to ensure that the punishment he gave her this time made his intentions abundantly clear; no one stole from Crocodile.

Another, closer blast sent his matching crystal decanter careening to the ground with a crash sending crystal and his favorite scotch in every direction of his office floor. Crocodile clenched his fist; he'd make Kerry lick every drop of that expensive scotch off the floor, glass shards be damned. He'd twist a hand into the peachy waves at the nape of her neck, kick her feet from under her until she was on her knees in front of him--

His cock suddenly gave an interested throb and Crocodile grunted, annoyed that the pretty little revolutionary thorn in his side was making him hard while she ran rampant around his warehouse destroying his things and attempting, once again, to rob him.

What annoyed him the most, however, was that he'd allowed himself to indulge in these fantasies of her even before this moment. After he'd left her marred and hobbling out of his office he'd thought about Kerry; the way she'd swaggered all hips into his office, confidently placing a boot on his chest while he'd been lounging on the chaise.

She was stupid for even trying to use intimidation tactics on him, and he'd laughed in her face for it; but Kerry had simply smiled in return--an annoyingly charming smile--all while digging the heel of her boot harder into his chest, daring to say, ‘I’m taking your shit, handsome’.

He'd wanted to wipe that grin off her face right then, it would have been easy to kill her, and for a moment Crocodile considered it. But he wasn't interested in picking a fight with the Revolutionary Army, nor was he interested in them having his weapons; so he arrived at a compromise.

That's when he'd sunk his hook into her thigh, pulling her closer with whispered promises that if she came here again, it'd be the last thing she did. A conveniently timed intervention from some other Revolutionary Army members had prevented their conversation from continuing, but hadn't stopped Kerry's pale eyes from meeting his. Even with his hook buried into her thigh she hadn't lifted her boot from his chest or screamed for him to stop, and it was the intensity of her gaze that had first gotten his mind into this mess over the next few weeks.

He replayed that moment in his mind, absently rubbing the spot on his chest where her heel had been; except when he replayed that moment in his mind alone in bed at night he imagined what could have happened if they hadn't been interrupted. He imagined the shit-eating grin on Kerry's face pressed into the fine silk pillow of his chaise as he bent her over, smoothing a hand over her ridiculous frilled shorts before slapping her ass. He imagined how she'd sound, gasping and whimpering under his touch, how she'd beg for more and how he'd willingly give it to her; if she could behave.

It was those thoughts of Ms. Kerry Corduroy that frustrated him to no end, and that were making him hard even now as she stupidly returned to try and steal from him again.

BANG

The door to his office flew open, and Crocodile turned with a glare to see who was interrupting him when there were Revolutionaries to deal with outside.

Those pale eyes he'd been imaging moments ago locked into his.

Standing in the doorway to his office was his brazen little Revolutionary; peachy waves wild under her brimmed hat, and that same irritatingly attractive smirk he'd been fantasizing about. His eyes fell to her thigh, just below the teasing ruffles of her shorts, and he couldn't help but grin.

“That’s healing nicely,” he nodded nonchalantly to the starburst shaped scar decorating her inner thigh. “I should give you one on the other side to match.”

Kerry huffed and popped her hip. “I'd like to see you try, handsome.”

He wouldn't even have to try. Within the blink of an eye Crocodile could have his hook latched into any damn part of her he pleased, wrenching her closer while using his devil fruit powers to suck the very life out of her then and there…

As fate would have it, death wouldn't be in the cards for Ms. Corduroy today, he decided. It would be so much more satisfying watching her atone in any way he saw fit for all the trouble and destruction she'd caused him.

Sand drifted from his body and twisted around Kerry's legs, manipulating her into facing away from him. With an easy glide of the same sand he was on her, using his hand to pin and twist her wrist to her back, the combination of his height and strength along with his devil fruit powers easily pressed her into the wall of his office. An enticing gasp left her lips as the pressure of his body collided with hers, and Crocodile's cock gave another untimely throb.

“Whatcha got there,” Kerry drawled, with a wriggle of her hips. “Is that a black market gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

Crocodile grunted; Kerry’s wiggling hips were effectively grinding her perfect ass into his hard length and the sensation was enough to send exciting thrills through his body.

It pissed him off.

“Quiet,” he growled in her ear, and gave her twisted arm a cruel tug, enjoying the way she gasped and arched back against him. “Where’s your little rescue committee?”

Kerry struggled against his hold, but her expression remained the same; that smirk that haunted his fantasies and caused a frustrating mixture of anger and desire in his gut.

“Oh they'll be here,” she said, her words tight from the weight of his body crushing into her. “I just thought we could have some alone time first.”

Her tone was teasing and silky even when slightly strained, and that frustrated him too. He wanted to show her right now a better use for that smart mouth; once again imagining how she'd look on her knees in front of him, eagerly taking his cock in that impudent mouth…

“Stupid of you.” He said, and drew his hooked hand slowly along the length of her unscarred thigh, leaving a thin line of red in its wake. He paused at the crux of her thigh, directly across from where he'd marked the other side and pressed the tip harder into her flesh.

He could feel her shiver against him at his touch, and Crocodile bit down hard on his cigar to ground himself. Trying to force the scenes he'd been imagining between them out of his mind.

“I should kill you for showing up here again,” he snarled, and applied more pressure with his hook point against her thigh. “But that wouldn't teach you how to behave, would it?”

Kerry sucked in a sharp breath below him, and even with the shadow of her hat he could see the flush painted across her freckled cheeks.

“I'd like to see you try and make me, handsome.”

She repeated her teasing words from only moments ago and Crocodile grinned.

He would gladly take that challenge.

Another boom suddenly shook the walls of his office, blasting out a nearby window and causing himself and Kerry to stumble, trying to keep their balance.

The distraction was enough that Kerry had somehow managed to twist out of his hold, and Crocodile watched as she sprinted from his office.

He could easily stop her, he should stop her.

Then she paused, and Crocodile watched as she spun on a booted heel to face him.

With that infuriating smirk gracing her pretty pink lips she blew him a kiss before whirling around, sprinting again towards the exit.

Crocodile huffed, and smoke twisted around his head, dancing across his vision just like his little Revolutionary soldier had and he promised himself next time he saw her, he'd make good on his own promise to teach her exactly how to behave.

[toxic3mmy]

Star Struck

prompt: you get a message from alex on tumblr

hai lovely peeps <3

this is gonna be a short little book type thing with a few more chapters to come

i hope you guys enjoy!

ps- ill try my best to update this series at least once a week!!!

you mindlessly scrolled through tumblr. yes it wasn’t 2015 anymore but you still used the app religiously. you had a good number of followers, too.

you posted about all the emo and alternative music you were into and not to mention the youtubers who you loved.

your number one favorite youtuber was alexis quackity. you related to him in many different ways. he made you laugh on days you weren’t doing too well. he meant a lot to you, even if you didn’t know him personally and it was all most likely just an internet personality.

still, you found yourself talking about his latest let’s talk streams or even his random tweets. you loved having a community of online mutuals that felt the same way about quackity.

____

halfway across the country, alexis sat cross-legged on the floor of his cluttered apartment, surrounded by a sea of empty takeout boxes and energy drink cans. his eyes were glued to the computer screen, the glow from the monitor reflecting off his square-rimmed glasses. his mouse hand hovered over the keyboard, poised to respond to the endless stream of comments that flooded his youtube channel. his thumbs danced across his phone, scrolling through the notifications that seemed to never end.

it had been a wild ride for alexis since he started streaming games and posting videos under the moniker 'Quackity'. the fame had come quickly, and with it, the adoration of millions of fans around the globe.

sometimes alex would take the time and look through his community of devoted fans. he would use throwaway accounts to simply be unknown for once and just see what there was out there.

his fans were so unbelievably talented. many of them were amazing artists making portraits of him or even writing songs for him. some were even exceptional writers and the fanfiction stories he’d come across were actually pretty good.

amidst the digital chaos, one fan seemed to stand out from the rest. y/n, with her username 'Y/NIsNotHere', had caught his attention with her thoughtful comments and unyielding support. He clicked on her tumblr profile, and there it was: a fan account dedicated solely to him.

her profile was a shrine to his digital persona, filled with meticulously edited gifs, screenshots from his streams, and heartfelt notes about how his content had changed her life. Alexis felt a strange mix of flattery and curiosity. he hovered over the 'send message' button, his heart racing with excitement.

what did she look like? what was her voice like? would she be as amazing as she seemed? with a deep breath, he typed out a simple hello.

granted, he was using a secret throwaway tumblr account so he didn’t expect for an immediate response. and yet, the response still came rather quickly.

Y/Nisnothere: hi! whats up?

emoboy666_: nothing much, just surfin da web. so you’re a fan of quackity?

Y/Nisnothere: yeah im definitely a huge fan. there’s just something about him you know? he’s different, he makes me feel okay

alexis’ cheeks heated up after reading the compliment. he smiled softly as he continued to message you

emoboy666_: i totally get you! it’s nice to be distracted from things

Y/Nisnothere: for sure! so tell me about yourself

emoboy666_: well, im in my early 20s.. im mexican, i love video games and art….. oh and you can just call me A

Y/Nisnothere: well im 21, im also mexican, im also really into all things artsy and nerdy and well, emo lol, and you can just call me y/n :3

emoboy666_: i’m glad we have some things in common! your blog is really cool btw, it’s like a hidden gem amongst the cyber world

Y/Nisnothere: aw thanks! that’s really sweet of you to say <3

emoboy666_: no prob (: so, what are you doing right now?

Y/Nisnothere: oh not much, trying to do homework but getting distracted by tumblr and twitter lol. and u?

emoboy666_: oh same here, what do you study?

Y/Nisnothere: i’m studying art

emoboy666_: that’s awesome! maybe you should show me some of your work sometime

Y/Nisnothere: yeah! id love to (:

emoboy666: me too (:

Y/Nisnothere: (: <3

the two of you continued to message each other practically all night. you were happy to have made a new online friend and alexis was happy to get to know one of his fans.

neither of you truly knew who was on the other end of the phone but you still really enjoyed talking to one another. it was refreshing for the two of you.

you fell asleep with thoughts of your new friend, A

[dairy-farmer]

hi! i was going thru my notes and found this lil thing HAHAHA i vaguely remember writing this while going through your blog, but I don’t recall which string of posts inspired this burst. Sharing this here as a thank you for your wonderful blog and for all the equally wonderful anons ❤️🥰❤️🥰❤️

Before Tim leaves to search for Bruce, Dick somehow manages to knock him out and Tim loses his memories.

Dick keeps Tim locked up inside the manor while he goes out as Batman with Damian as Robin.

Damian doesn’t see anything wrong with what Dick was doing. He just thought Tim was deadweight to them.

Damian doesn’t really understand either why Dick tells everyone that Tim was off gallivanting elsewhere trying to find Bruce when he was definitely hiding Tim away in the manor.

Damian observes Dick’s frantic rush to build a completely lead-lined room once news of Superboy’s return slips past their ears.

Damian talks to Jon about Connor’s disbelief when Dick tells him that Tim went around the world to look for Bruce. “Kon said he couldn’t hear Tim’s heartbeat.” Jon tells Damian. “But Dick insisted that Tim was still alive.”

Three years after Bruce’s death, Dick asks Alfred to retire. The old, weary man reluctantly agrees with a promise to visit every other month or so.

Several years later, Damian knocks on Tim’s door.

“Damian!” Tim greets with a warm smile from his spot seated by the window. “How was school?”

Damian walks over, picking up a hairbrush along the way, and situates himself behind Tim. “I submitted the painting I showed you last week into an art competition.” He shares with Tim. He narrates the events of his day as he gently passes a brush over Tim’s now-waist length hair as per habit.

He never fails to marvel at the softness of Tim’s dark hair and how the man shivers when Damian’s hand accidentally brush his neck. The warm afternoon glow dancing on Tim’s face makes his hands itch to grab a paint rush and capture the moment forever, but he manages to resist with practiced ease. He has more than enough paintings of Tim and said man, while never complaining about being the subject of Damian’s numerous artworks and sculptures, was never really fond of staying still, trapped as he was in a single room.

As the sunset falls into night, Tim softly asks, “Will Dick come to visit me soon?”

As Damian had expected.

He sets down the hairbrush and clenches his fist behind Tim’s back. “I’m not sure.” He says as if reading from a script for the nth time. “He’s currently with the Tamaraenean woman so I wouldn’t know.”

Tim gives a noncommittal noise and gestures for Damian who grabs his waist and hand to help Tim stand up. In silence, Damian leads Tim towards the bed.

Tim lies down on the bed and whispers to Damian’s knuckles, “I hope he visits soon.”

Damian caresses the growing bump on Tim’s belly, emotions warring in him. “I‘ll see what I can do.”

!!!! thank you!!! i'm so happy you enjoy my work!! and i'm so happy you decided to share this!!!!

dick freaking out when tim tries to leave and just opting to kidnap him and lie to anyone who comes around is so good especially if he tries rationalizing it rather than admit he was wrong. but in his panic he hurts tim maybe worse than he intended so now there's no way he can let anyone know what he did sou he doubles down on everything. and damian is there and lucky for him he chooses to believe dick knows best and what he does really is for the best but then it's years later and tim is still this helpless, stupid little thing. he hadn't gone outside in years because dick thinks the best place for tim to be is inside especially since now that he's pregnant.

and damian, who has grown up with this, just...accepts it as it is even if some part of him has grown...uncomfortable at what's happening.

damian's league conditioning has slowly been taken apart and worn away with dick's help but part of damian still can't help but feel...something at dick having impregnated timothy yet he's still running around messing around with gordon, the alien, and other flings. timothy is about to be the mother of his child and it just...it feels deeply disrespectful especially since he and richard are timothy's WHOLE world. he interacts with no one else but them.

so damian starts taking up spending more time with tim, brushing his hair, bringing him his groceries, airing out his room for him when his belly gets too big.

damian is there when tim goes into labor.

he tries calling dick about it but gets sent to voicemail which means he must be...busy. dick's been a lot more busy lately- his interest in former lovers re sparked when they found out timothy was pregnant.

the more charitable part of damian says that the idea of parenthood just scared dick and that's why he was acting like this. but the less nice part of damian condemned him all the same.

timothy is in labor, about to give birth to his first child and dick. wasn't. there.

damian thinks he can handle it- getting towels, water, and medical supplies ready.

but as the hours pass tim grows..weaker. he's covered in sweat and practically white as a ghost.

tim hasn't seen a doctor in years. they'd been mostly depending on damian's medical and surgical knowledge to care for him but if damian had missed something about the pregnancy...

dick had never explicitly said tim wasn't allowed to leave but it was silently implied.

still, tim had never tried and damian had never encouraged him.

but then tim is struggling and so damian doesn't think twice about picking him up and passing through all the security measures guarding him.

damian leaves the lead lined and kryptonian soundproofed wing of the manor and makes his way to one of the cars.

half way to the hospital he hears a sonic boom and tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

he knows it must be timothy's clone friend. out of all the capes he'd been the hardest to convince to let timothy go.

but yet he doesn't descend and crash down in front of the car. but damian can tell they're being followed as he drives up to the loading bay of the hospital.

timothy's eyes are big and enchanted as he stares at their surroundings despite his labored breathing and damian is once again reminded timothy hasn't been outside in years.

its all a blur after that. damian sticks as close as he can to timothy, holding his weak hand even as doctors and nurses work around them.

distantly, damian notes his phone in his back pocket is vibrating with urgency.

grayson, if its him, will be furious.

damian can't quite bring himself to care.

grayson had nine months to show up and he didn't. he'd left the work to damian. so now damian was going to do what he thought was best for timothy.

even if it meant taking him outside.

[emeritusemeritus]

if you’re taking requests can you do fred x artist!reader maybe? it’s okay if not though! (:

Hi love! Let me start by saying I’m sorry that this completely took on a life of its own. I started writing and I couldn’t stop, too engrossed in the story. I wasn’t sure what kind of art you wanted to include so I made the reader a painter/ designer and an all round creative. I’ve sobbed writing this and I’ve even had to split it into two parts because I’ve fallen down a hole and written over 8 thousand words, not joking.

I hope you enjoy! I shall now go and rest 😂🖤

Part 2 will be posted HERE once it is uploaded.

Warnings: ANGST. Sadness, breakups, illusions to cheating, breakup references. Happy ending I promise! Talks of marriage, proposals, Hagrid and his creatures, Fang being the goodest boy. Lots of tears and sadness but it gets better! Not beta read nor spellchecked, apologies for any mistakes. Timeline is a little wonky (picturing it OOTP just before the twins departure but there’s no war/no Umbridge)

Word count: 4.9k [Part 1&2= 8.2k] 😬

The Artist and the Entrepreneur part 1

You walked into your dorm in an exhausted slump, trying desperately not to sigh too loudly of our sheer exhaustion in order to not wake your dorm mates. It was nearly 11:30pm by the time you had made it back to the dorms, having to wake and then calm down the fat lady who was not willing to listen to your explanation of why you were out so late. You needed to bathe and get to sleep, ready for classes the next morning but you could barely function, trying desperately to summon the energy to undress and make your way to the bathrooms. It was a necessary evil but it had to be done and so you dragged your near-lifeless body to the bathroom and began running a bath, which thankfully filled up quickly with almost perfect temperature water. You grimaced as you peeled the uniform away from your body, wincing at a particularly nasty wound on your right forearm which you would attempt to heal after you'd bathed. Your hands were covered in paint, mud and whatever else had made their way under your nails, arms littered with paint splatters and other vague marks.

Sinking down into the water, you forced yourself to stay awake feeling suddenly soothed by the warm water, both physically and mentally. It had been a hard couple of weeks, stretched beyond your means as your timetable suddenly doubled. You were tired, exhausted and still there was another week to go of this madness, but it would all worth it on the end.

You dried quickly, assisting yourself with a flick of your wand and dressed into your pyjamas, hardly managing to scoop up your dirty uniform on your way back to bed.

5am came much quicker than you'd have liked. It was almost as if you'd closed your eyes and opened them again only a minute later. You crawled out of bed trying again to stay silent and reached for the clean set of uniform and robes on the chair beside your bed, kicking the lump of dirty uniform under your bed to deal with later. You slipped into the bathrooms to dress so that you wouldn't wake anyone and slipped down to the common room, pray in that you didn't see anyone on the way. You cast a glance at the boys dormitory staircase and felt a stab of sorrow thinking of Fred and how you'd barely seen him in the past two weeks. You were often gone before breakfast and not back until well past curfew, not that either of the twins ever abided by the rules.

"Oh shush," you said to the fat lady who had begun her usual spiel of sounding the alarm due to you being out of bed out of hours, not listening nor remembering the speech you'd given everyday for the past two weeks as you attempted to sneak out. You couldn't afford to be discovered by the prefects nor any teachers roaming the corridors, as above board as your mission was- you couldn't risk Fred finding out what you were doing.

Sunlight shone through the windows as you made your way around the castle, holding back a shiver at the coldness of the castle in the late March morning, your robes doing very little to shield you from the chill. You crept out of the castle and marvelled at the beautiful first rays of daylight peaking through the trees of the forbidden forest. You looked ahead and saw that smoke was billowing from the chimney of Hagrid's hut, the only sign of life against the otherwise serene backdrop of the forbidden forest. You made your way slowly, enjoying the peaceful walk down to the hut, hoping that Hagrid had put the kettle on in anticipation of your arrival.

"Morning y/n!" Hagrid says with a wide smile, bustling around in the small hut, much too awake for this time in the morning. Fang in stark contrast lay slumped in his bed and half asleep, continuously disturbed by Hagrid's banging. A steaming cup of tea lay waiting for you on the table and you thank him graciously, taking a soothing sip of the hot liquid. You look at the clock on the wall beside the window as see that it's nearly half 5 now, the sun rising in the sky and greeting an almost ethereal light across the magnificent castle, a sight that still amazed you even seven years later.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Hagrid asks, noticing you gazing up at the castle and you share a smile for a moment, the tiredness having faded now thanks to the alarmingly strong cup of tea that you'd now become accustomed to.

"Ready to get to work now?" He asks, watching you drain the last of the tea from the large mug. You try to hide your disappointment from being dragged out once again to the edge of the forest, knowing that you'd signed up for this. You nod with a smile, navigating around the large table as you move towards to door behind Hagrid. You shoot a look towards Fang, wanting to give him a parting stroke but you notice quickly that he's fallen back to sleep and so you leave him alone to snooze, wishing that you could too.

It was nearly half 8 when you walked into the great hall, taking a brief detour to the bathrooms as you washed your hands and to hide any evidence of your morning. Your early start was already catching up to you and you hid a yawn behind the sleeve of your robe as you walked through the doors of the great hall. You checked your robe one last time for any signs of evidence but thankfully you were clear, noticing only a moment later when you took you'll place at the table that there was a great dollop of pint upon your shoe.

"Here she is," George says from across the table, nodding his head towards you as you climbed onto the bench beside Ron in the gap between him and Neville.

"Switch with Y/n Ronald," Fred says from beside him without a hint of a please. Knowing he won't get any manners out of his older brother, Ron complies and shifts up to allow you to sit beside your boyfriend.

"Thanks Ron," you say, trying to hold off the yawn that was threatening to break free at any moment.

"Morning beautiful, you're late," Fred says, his hand slipping across your back as you pour yourself a large glass of pumpkin juice. He frowns at the coldness of your robes beneath his fingers but doesn't say anything. "You overlay again?"

"Yeah," you lie, feeling immediately guilty about the fact. "Snape's set us a load of work, took me ages to figure it out last night. Didn't get a lot of sleep." As if to prove your point, the yawn you'd been suppressing finally escapes with so much force that it makes your eyes water.

You manage to force down some toast, staying quiet as the conversation continues around you. The first bell rings and you barely hold back a sigh, detesting the fact that you'd have to get up again.

"I can walk you to potions?" Fred says, holding his hand out to help you off the bench. You're quick to conceal the paint on your shoe and if he notices, he doesn't say anything.

"And have you late for charms again?" You counter, raising an eyebrow at your boyfriend who just shrugs completely unfazed.

"Haven't seen you much lately, thought you'd been avoiding me."

His words feel like a stab directly to your heart, knowing that you were guilty of avoiding him, though it wasn't in a negative way. Your craved the time with him, of mischief in the late hours and spontaneous moments in hidden corridors and empty classrooms.

"I promise I'm not," you say with a smile, trying to vanquish his idea completely as you lean up to press a kiss to his full lips. His arms immediately grab your waist as he pulls you in for a deeper kiss that borders on inappropriate but you relent, unable to resist after not seeing him properly for so long.

"So, potions?" Fred smirks, pulling away. You chuckle, placing your hands on his chest.

"For me? Yes. For you? No, get to charms," you order playfully, leaning up to give him one last peck on the lips before turning away. "See you at lunch!"

You can hear his boyish chuckle as you walk away down the corridor in the opposite direction of him, praying that he would be entirely too focused on the swishing of your behind and that the paint on your shoe would go entirely unseen.

By lunch you were completely exhausted, too tired to even notice the suspicious side-eyes from the identical twins as they watched you poke around at your food and down a second cup of very strong tea, having outwardly complained that the first one was too weak. Uncharacteristically for them, they said nothing and continued to chatter amongst themselves, keeping the conversation open for you though you didn't give much imput.

"Fancy the black lake tonight, after hours?" Fred whispers in your ear, knowing even without looking that a smirk would be tugging at his lips. You inwardly grimaced, cursing your ridiculous secret plan as you wished more than anything that you could join him. You were running out of excuses now, finding it hard to keep track with what you'd already lied about.

"I can't tonight, got an essay for snape in the morning I've still not finished," you say with a guilty expression, almost wincing as the words too-effortlessly tumble out of your mouth. "Friday night I promise?"

He seems put out almost instantly, never one to be able to conceal his emotions well. He looks frustrated, confused and rejected within seconds of each other and gives a halfhearted nod at your counter offer of Friday instead.

The bell rings signalling the end of lunch and you hope for a kiss before parting but lose all hope when you feel his lips briefly brush your hairline and he runs off to catch up with George and Angelina.

You avoided the common room after classes, choosing instead to sneak down to Hagrid's a little early, thankful for Thursday evening Quidditch practice which meant that you wouldn't cross paths with Fred.

"Y/n, I'm nipping out tomorrow on dumbledores orders, think you could nip down and check in everything while I'm gone?" Hagrid says as you out dutifully complete your given task, hoping to get it done quickly so you could try and salvage a bit of time tonight for Fred. His questions throws you off for long enough that you feel a hot gust of fire breezing past your right ear, followed by a burning sensation in the same spot. He's quick to act and gets you out of harms way before any more damage is done whilst you remain slightly frozen in both fear and contemplation. You knew you couldn't say no, in debt to his generosity and so you simply nodded, already dreading the implications of your acceptance.

It's late once again when you arrive at the common room, only half an hour til curfew, and despite your attempts at hiding your tiredness and attempting to appear happy and neutral, you can't help but feel the guilt swirling in your gut when you see Fred and George pedalling their products to the younger students with wide smiles on their faces and still dressed in their quidditch uniforms. You sneak up to Fred once he's done with a sale and slip behind him, placing your hand on his shoulder to alert him to your presence. 

Only, when he turns around his smile slowly fades upon realisation that it's you and your heart immediately begins to break, knowing that it was the other way round. He doesn't instantly reach out for you with his big grabby hands like usual nor does he attempt to kiss you. You try and salvage the situation, putting more effort in, trying to be as normal as possible but he seems to see right through the act.

"Wanna sneak out? I hear the black lake is beautiful this time of night." You say with a smirk, trying desperately to mask your tiredness and to hold it together. He doesn't jump at the chance as you hoped and instead casts a cursory glance to George before turning back to you.

"Can't tonight, got to restock the snack boxes with George," he says, briefly touching your hand before a third year calls his name, hand outstretched ready to buy one of his creations. Your stomach sinks, knowing that it's a lie and the irony of the situation only seems to hurt you more as you feel your eyes well up with fresh tears. You excuse yourself immediately, not even greeting your friends who you can tell are watching the tense exchange and you hope more than anything that no one follows you. You're completely depleted with exhaustion, running on hardly any sleep and completely overworked by your own doing. Suddenly the outcome didn't seem worth it and you regretted ever starting, finding your idea foolish.

You let your tears flow as you shower, passively washing away the fresh marks from the day off your arms, the clear gel and the colourful spatters draining away down the plug hole with your tears. You wince in pain when the water falls directly onto the freshly wounded skin behind your ear and your neck, execrating yourself for missing that spot despite Hagrid's warnings.

Too tired and upset to face going back down to the common room, you give up and reward yourself with an early night, though you feel anything but rewarded.

5am came around once more and more than ever you begrudgingly pulled yourself from the warm bed and slipped into the bathroom, the reminder of Fred's rejection playing on your mind from the second your eyes opened. Had you dreamt about it? Either way his reaction was firmly imprinted on your mind and you couldn't get away from how desperately painful it was to have him reject you like that. You slipped out of the common room on autopilot, closing the door with a little too much force already anticipating the fat lady's usual ranting and slumped off towards Hagrid's hut. The skies looked as sombre and sorrowful as you felt, covering the sky in a dull grey hue that seemed to dull the normally beautiful sunrise. You were quiet this morning, not rude or impolite but simply quiet as you worked alongside Hagrid, consumed by your foreboding thoughts knowing that you would still have to cancel Fred tonight, if he even cared anymore.

Once your morning jobs were complete, you decline any further invite to stay and decide instead to sneak back into the castle for breakfast, hoping you could join your friends and boyfriend like usual. Breakfast had only just begun when you walked into the great hall, having made your usual stop off at the girls bathrooms on the way and you're not surprised when the only person sat at the table is Hermione who's already got her head down in a book. She lifts her head up to greet you happily as you sit opposite her at the table, beginning to place her bookmark on the page she's on but you tell her not to, to enjoy the peace whilst she can. She shoots you a grateful smile and you sit enjoying your second cup of tea in peace, thankful you could make this happen today. You knew it was at the expense of your other jobs and you'd most certainly pay for it in the long run but having half of the morning to reset still felt good.

"Morning," Angelina says as a sits down at the table next to Hermione who this time only says a passive greeting, much too engrossed in her book. Angelina reached immediately for a glass of pumpkin juice before rubbing her eyes and yawning at the early hour.

"Not been sleeping well?" You ask with relative concern for your friend, watching her yawn for a second time within seconds. "Staying up late trying to find a loophole in quidditch rules again?" You joke with a smile, watching as she shoots you a mock glare even though it was most probably true, only to be interrupted by her third yawn.

"I wish! Still never finished reading that rule book," she snorts. "I know there's something there I've missed." She takes a sip of her pumpkin juice and you watch as she swallows down another yawn. "I was at the black lake with the twins last night, didn't get back til late."

It's amazing that you don't choke on your own pumpkin juice as the words glide out of her mouth, your stomach sinking like a stone at the implications. You knew Angelina and there was no malice nor hidden meaning behind her words but it still stings more than getting caught in the path of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. Fred had openly lied to you, had rejected you and had invited Angelina in your place. You're frozen in place by the revelation but Angelina doesn't notice, now heartily tucking into her breakfast, though you do notice hermione peeking over her book to look at you. Tears begin to prickle your eyes as the sinking feeling in your gut consumes you, your thoughts spiralling out of control. He didn't want you anymore, you'd pushed him too far to come back from, all with him in mind.

You barely noticed when Ron, Ginny and Harry appeared at the table but you noticed immediately when you heard two very familiar voices echoing as Fred and George walked into the great hall. You had to leave, you had to get out before then took their places. A part of you, wether it was self-punishment or morbid curiosity wanted to stay and see if Fred would chose to sit next to you, to see if he'd interact with you or be cold and distant but you couldn't do it, knowing that the latter would kill you. You stood up so quickly that you bumped your knee on the bottom of the table with a resounding thud that seemed to draw everyone's attention to you but you didn't stick around to shrivel under their curious gazes. There was no way you could avoid Fred now as he made his way to the table but you couldn't do anything about that. Placing your hand over your mouth, you feigned queasiness and ran out of the hall, straight past Fred and George.

Climbing up the spiralling staircase from potions, your stomach sank when you saw a familiar form resting against one of the pillars in the corridor, his shining red hair leaving no doubt as to who it was. You waited for your fellow classmates to disperse, signalling for Alicia to go ahead with the others, leaving you and Fred alone. You half hoped for the first time ever that you'd gotten the twins mixed up

And that it was actually George that was waiting for you but as you walked over with a faux smile on your face, there was no doubt in your mind that it was Fred.

"Hi," you said, sounding awkward even to your own ears. He gives you a look, apparently having noticed your unusually formal greeting too and reaches out for you as if nothing was wrong. His touch feels wrong, the lies feeling like an impenetrable barrier between you and you don't sink into his touch as you usually did, nor do you make any attempt to reach out for him in return.

"Still want to go to the black lake tonight?" He says, reaching out to play with a strand of your hair from the haphazardly thrown up ponytail. His words feel like a knife, like a taunt of what you missed out in last night. Did he know that you knew about his jaunts last night or was he planning on denying the entire thing and acting like nothing was wrong?

You couldn't bite your tongue any longer, the unyielding sleep deprivation affecting your ability to regulate your emotions and you pulled yourself back out of his reach with a venomous look in your eyes.

"Thought you'd have seen enough of it with Angelina last night,' you spit out, the quickly fading logical part of your brain hardly believing that you were having this conversation with Fred, the downfall of your relationship taking you completely by surprise as it's ungodly pace. He blanches, face flushing pale as his ears turn more and more pink upon hearing your words. His eyes widen momentarily and the sickness in your gut increases as you note how panicked he looks, your fears confirmed that he was intending on not telling you anything.

"Princess," he says, trying to bounce back from his momentary shock as he reaches out for you but you avoid his hand entirely, blocking him by slightly turning your body to the right, away from him.

"My name is y/n," you counter, uncaring for his term of endearment. His brown creases but in a flash it's gone, his gaze now focused on your ear. You watch as his eyes harden, no longer looking guilty as his eyes set into a hard stare that grazes across your face until he finally looks into your eyes, somehow in competition with you for how angry you can gaze at eachother.

"It's not my whereabouts that need questioning though is it?" He says through partially gritted teeth, unrelenting eyes staring into your soul.

"What are you talking about?" You counter, trying desperately to hold onto your anger but it's quickly draining from you under his suspicious scrutiny.

"Seems you forgot to hide that one," he spits, pointing to the mark behind your ear. Your gaze softens immediately as you realise what he's pointing to- the pink mark on your neck. In your haste to not set your hair on fire in potions, you'd quickly tied up your hair and had completely forgotten that the mark on your neck would now be visible.

"Fred," you say, the tables turning on you now as you cower under his powerful gaze.

"Thought it was odd that you kept disappearing," he says with a grumble, his voice sounding so cold and distant that you barely recognise it. "Who is he?"

"What?" You ask suddenly, quietly, completely floored by his accusation, your mouth agape as you look upon the heated gaze of your boyfriend, though you quickly realise it may be the last time you can call him that. Never had you thought that he would have accused you of cheating. Finding out your secret maybe but this? Never.

"You heard me, who is it? Bet it's Towler isn't it," he sneers, almost spitting as he says Kenneth Towler's name to taunt you. "Reckon he's long overdue for a second dose of bulbadox powder."

You're frozen in disbelief at the furthering accusations he's spouting, his mind already wandering back to Kenneth Towler who's skin had erupted into boils during your fifth year thanks to Fred putting Bulbadox powder in his pyjamas when he'd come on to you a bit too strongly during a mid-season Quidditch game. Fred had been so distracted upon seeing Towler attempt to drape his arm around you that it caused him to miss an oncoming bludger that caught the tail end of Wood's broom, throwing him off balance and equating in a deciding goal that had given Ravenclaw the lead, that then resulted in their victory over Gryffindor. Fred had been furious, not at you naturally but at Towler who he'd declared had lost them the whole game and had vowed a form of revenge by adding the bulbadox.

"It is isn't it?" He prods, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No!" You say with vengeance, wanting to shoot down that accusation straight away. "There's no one," you add. He huffs out a humourless laugh that makes your entire body fill with dread.

"Well someone's giving you those marks and it's certainly not me!" He argues, "haven't let me anywhere near you for weeks, which is funny because you're usually up for it whenever."

Your blood runs cold at his words and you resist the instinctual urge to slap him right across his stupid face. It's like the four years of your relationship have been nothing to him; pulled apart and mocked by one single comment that now made you question everything. Was that all it was to him? Were you just easy and available? You felt physically sick by the thought and you were certain that nothing had ever hurt you so deeply before. The boy you'd fallen so helplessly in love for, the one with the fire red hair and the cheeky grin that only ever seemed to have eyes for you had changed so quickly right before your eyes. The very boy that had supported all of your creative dreams, encouraging you to keep painting and keep creating even when you doubted yourself or lacked inspiration. Merlin, most of the time he was your inspiration.

You realise that there's nothing left to say, that any further attempt to defend yourself will only fall on deaf ears and by his last comment, you weren't sure it was worth trying to salvage the joke that had been your relationship. You thought of the secret you'd be hiding, of the real reason you had been sneaking away and lying to him, so far away from his assumption that it was almost laughable- but now completely void of any importance. There was no coming back from this. What you assumed to have been love for the past four years had completely disappeared from his eyes and you knew from this moment onwards that all you would ever see when he gazed upon you would be pure disdain.

It feels like every bone is breaking in your body simultaneously as you walk away, like your heart is directly under the cruciatus curse with the sheer volume of anguish within your body. You've never felt pain like it, completely unable to distinguish exactly where it hurts or why. You let vision is blurred and your body physically hurts, your ears ringing from the screams of pain that resonate around your head but are trapped inside your mind. You don't look at Fred, you can't, nor can you bear to listen for him calling out to you as you walk away, the last glimmer of hope gone. 

You consider returning to your dorm and locking yourself away for the foreseeable future, skipping all of your classes and sobbing until you can't anymore as you body screams for you to do but you can't. You can't let anyone see you like that, nor would you be able to answer anyone's questions or deal with their stares. And so, you run to the one place you knew you'd be safe.

Fang greets you enthusiastically the second you push through the door to the empty hut and collapse against the door with a roaring cry. The anguish in your cries is one that you'd never heard emitted from yourself or any other human and you no longer fight back the floods of tears that fall down your face like an unstoppable river that had broken the dam. Fang, sensing your distress, walks over to you and calmly sits beside you, placing his huge head in your lap as you cry. You hold on to the lovable boarhound like an oversized teddy bear as the tears flow, uncaring about the inevitable puddle of drool that he'll leave in your lap, the comfort of the sweet dog more needed than ever.

You don't know how long you sit there crying with your pal by your side for every moment but eventually the tears begin to slow, your breath finally evening out though your heart still pounds, much like your head. Fang lifts his head slightly, his big eyes peering into yours and you give him a thankful smile through the tears, even if he doesn't know exactly what you're trying to convey. He gives your arm a little nudge and in your near delusional state, you assume that it's a reply to your thankfulness. You chuckle, giving him a good scratch of appreciation on his wrinkled forehead at the absurdity of the situation, but you'd be forever thankful that of all things, Fang was the only one that had held you together in your darkest moment.

[eros7hanatos]

➽ Our little play thing

Switch!Dottore x switch!gn reader

Warnings: porn with plot, smut, chastity belt, restraints, mostly dom reader,

word count: 1.1k words

A/N: hope this is alright 🐍 anon! This was a rlly new experience for me to write and holy- I hope you like it and a part 2 will be coming ;) Sorry for the late post T^T, still editing a little, im busy rn so 😭😭

art creds: idk please tell if you do know 🙏

“Oh my gosh it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” The certain red headed girl said as she wrapped her hands around you.

“It has been so long!” you say back as you lean against the door frame when she had let you go. “How was your concert travels?”

“Oh it went well, thanks for asking.” Nilou said with a smile as she suddenly reached into a bag by her side, “Oh yeah, here’s the key you asked for? I hope you can overcome your sugar addiction, but for now you deserve a treat after I’ve been gone for so long!”

She dropped the small golden key into your hand as you then waved her goodbye, promising to meet her soon and that you were a little busy at the moment. You smirked to yourself, what a great excuse that was. To be fair you weren’t exactly lying, it was a sort of way to restrain yourself, well, more like restraining him from something so sweet. The sweet taste of release.

“Who was that at the door?” A breathy husky voice asks as you walk back into your bedroom and plop yourself in the dark room on the bed.

“Oh, Nilou, she came back from her concert tour, can’t believe she’s pretty big now.” you say nonchalantly as you see his red eyes glint in the darkness.

“Did she give you the key? She better fucking have.” he almost growls as you let out a chuckle. Just in that moment you had a snarky little idea as you slip the key into your back pocket and turn to him.

You look at him with doe eyes, “She said she kept it in a bag that she forgot at an inn, don’t worry darling, it’ll only take a week or so to send it back.” you say, sarcastically and feigning sadness and pity in your tone. He grunts as he fights his restraints. What a sight this was, his hands tied behind his back, his legs occasionally kicking the air, his navy blue shirt wide open for your touch.

“What the fuck? Another week? I’m not waiting that long, you have to have a spare key, give it to me right now-” You roll your eyes and cup his cheeks, kissing him to shut him up. His lips move in the same pace as yours, following your motions as he bites your lower lip, harder than usual. You pull away, you lick the spot, tasting a metallic taste. Before you could even notice Dottore leans into you, smashing his lips back onto yours as his tongue enters your mouth in that moment of weakness. His tongue explores the inside of your mouth, wet and warm, he moans into the kiss, relishing the little amount of control he had at the moment before it would be taken away once again. And surely you do, pushing his muscular body away from yours as you gasp for breath.

“Tsk tsk tsk.” he rolls his eyes as you lean back onto the soft mattress, thinking of what to do as payback. You smirk as an idea comes to mind and crawl over to the bed headboard, plopping yourself on Dottore’s lap, your smile widening as you hear him grunt. You run your hands through your hair as one of your icy fingers touch his well sculpted abs, causing him to wince at the sensation. One of your arms snakes around his neck as another one slowly but surely moves up his chest. He frowns and closes his eyes as you lean in closer, breathing on his chest.

Your hot breath drives him crazy as he feels more aroused by the second, helplessly trying to buck his hips up into you. You giggle as you continue, flicking his hard nipples and listening to his grunts and moans. You stick your tongue out, licking the erect nub before putting your whole mouth on it, sucking it, before biting down hard, just like how he had done to you. Dottore whines as you lick the spot, soothing it with your tongue.

He’s panting hard, sweat drips from his forehead as he fights his restraints again as your mouth leaves his body. Your hands trace his name on his chest as you move your hips slightly, edging him on. Your hands then move lower as you position yourself backwards, making space for your hands as you touch the chastity belt.

“What a shame, if not for this we could be having a good time.” you pout as it quickly changes into a sly smile. Dottore smiles, gritting his teeth as he looks at you through his blue hair. “If not for you leaving me alone all the time, I wouldn’t have done this, you know.”

“Tch. Couldn’t even get the belt in my size…” he mumbles, completely ignoring what you just said. You latch yourself onto his other nipple, nibbling it and slobbering your saliva all over it, angry as your anger slowly eases from his muffled moans and his chest heaving up and down relentlessly.

“I’m gonna make you regret this, you know that, don’t you?” he says as you let go of his abused nipple with a pop, now interested in his abs, tracing the lines as you nod. Suddenly his hips bump up into yours, stronger than ever as you fall into him, you yelp as you look at him, a scowl on your face and a smug look on his. Suddenly something caught his eye, he frowns as he then turns his eyes back to you, tilting his head as he smiles. You look back, trying to find what caught his eye as you then see something glinting. A small golden key. You hurriedly check your back pocket and, as expected, it’s empty. It must’ve fallen from your pocket when he thrusted up into you.

“Give it here.” he demands.

“Even if I did give it to you, you don’t even have the hands to free yourself.” you chuckle as you suddenly hear a snap. You eyes widen as you see him rubbing his wrists, a red line imprinted on his skin.

“Should’ve bought more expensive cuffs.” he laughs as he throws the cheap metal to the side, holding you with one hand and the other to grab the key to free himself. You sit there, shocked as you try to take control of the situation once more, frantically trying to free yourself from his grasp. He chuckles at your futile attempt as his big hand holds your wrists, another finally freeing himself from the belt.

“I told you you’d regret it~”

[mamamangaka]

(No one has posted this and I need it so I shall cook for myself)

- Yandere!Alastor with a g/n reader who likes toys and art stuff -

Okay so here’s the thing I kinda see about Alastor:

Hes a fucking looney who will do anything and everything to keep you if he happens to fall in love.

But lemme tell you if you break past those walls and manage to ameliorate his aceness to the point that he’s yandere about you then baby you done.

You might as well have signed over your soul to him.

I like to think only one thing in particular would peak his interest at first.

Maybe your drawing outside a coffee shop -

Or reading tarot cards at the park?

Perhaps even reading under a tree, who knows?

But whatever it is, Alastor saw you and he froze.

He never once expected to fall so deeply in love (especially not at first sight) and I feel that when he did finally succumb after a bit of denial, it would be a quick realization and he’d make a decision to seek you out immediately.

He’d closely stalk you for some time but when he gets you, he’d keep you in his radio tower, where no one else goes and where his world really is.

He’d probably kidnap you mere weeks after realizing he’s enamored, it wouldn’t take long before he came up behind you out of nowhere.

He was someone you’d only seen once or twice in passing but found attractive each time, though you weren’t exactly thinking about a partnership.

He wouldn’t be asking you, he’d simply take you.

(You didn’t need to know he’d been admiring you anyway.)

You weren’t someone of great power or who was well known. You simply met a tragic fate and unfortunately ended up here by mistake due to being involved in “black magic”.

It was unfair, in your opinion, to be cast down simply due to your divination talents and history.

Never once did you misuse your gifts yet here you were.

When you come around, you’re in Alastor room in the hotel.

He explains the situation and gives you options.

You ask to go, not interested in whatever he’s offering and he explains that’s not an option so you need to pick another one.

After demanding to leave, trying to open the door, banging and calling for help and eventually pleading and sobbing with him, you realize you aren’t going anywhere.

You wheep and hoarsely beg as he carries you into the wooded area that seems to pocket into another place.

You realize later that it was a path to the radio tower.

There’s a wooden door that leads to his own personal “home” in that tower.

And inside, I’d expect it’s quite nice.

Greenery everywhere, plants and/or herbs hanging from the ceiling and a cozy woodstove. Lovely flowers and pretty trees surrounding the outside, blocking the view of the horrors that hell had naturally.

A earthy, modest but very comfortable and exquisite environment and cottage style house with at least one library on hand.

But he can take all this beauty away quite easily, so don’t forget or step out of line. The view is a luxury he gives based on your behavior; do not tread lightly.

Now, he’s very commanding and strict with his darling, often times dictating what they eat and wear, bossing them around and physically moving them to where he wants.

• “My little doe, you were simply taking too much time to get to me, I was just helping you along.”

• “Oh darling, don’t you know I’m doing this for your own good? Don’t cry, come here: give me a kiss.”

• “No no, little doe. It’s best if you rest right now. Ah, yes, I can see you don’t want to sleep. How about I read to you or turn the radio on, hm?”

But he’s also super old timey and you would immediately be considered his spouse, and he would pamper and treat you with such respect (at least as much as he could)

If he found out you liked dolls or soft toys, well he’d be all over that and try to use it to his advantage.

I feel like it would be a rag doll copy of himself or a porcelain/ball jointed doll (dressed in 1920-1950 attire) as a Victorian styled Queen or what not.

• “You seem so lonely honey bun, so I picked you up something nice. Hopefully it will warm you a little when you think of me.”

• “I can see you fiddle with your hands a lot, mi amor. Here, have a doll to dress and play with for when your pretty hands need a break from the books.”

• “Oh my, it seems a nap is in order for your crankiness. Where is your toy? It’s better for you to have something to sleep with while I’m doing the broadcast.”

But he wouldn’t have bought it for you, oh no, because the only thing he buys you is the most pristine art supplies and most flattering jewelry and clothes —

— he’d have made this himself for you, from his own power.

And he’d use it to keep an eye on you no matter where you happened to be.

Needed a moment alone? Not without the doll he gave you.

Was hiding from punishment? Not without the doll.

If you left it somewhere in a vain attempt for distance, you’d find it on your person the second you reached in your bag or turned around.

And when Alastor found out you left it? He’d be livid.

But you wouldn’t know he was mad by his face, only his voice and the static crackle in the background.

• “Don’t you ever leave that doll again sweetheart. Do you understand me?”

• “This is how I protect you, darling. It’s best for everyone if you follow direction.”

• “Now honey, you don’t want to lose your privilege to wander around the hotel and mingle with the others, do you? Then you best keep that doll close, hm?”

If you possibly took a liking to the doll he gave you, well..

His heart might soar, he won’t lie

How cute and innocent you were, so completely unaware of the horrors he possesses — the doll possesses — if you step out of line

It’s something he really loves about you; you trust him (mostly bc you have to)

And if you took up sewing to make outfits for the doll?? He’d be so over the moon and even conjure up a little wardrobe for them if enough clothes are made.

And your drawings??? Oh don’t even get me started

too late I did it myself here I go

He would parade you around like you were the messiah of the demonic art world

It didn’t matter if you or anyone else thought you were good

You like doing it? Hes gonna over indulge you.

You drew something just for him???

Then it’s getting a golden frame and you’re getting the radio host fame.

He wouldn’t let anyone touch your sketchbook. He’d actually kill anyone who destroys any piece of your work.

He always coos over you, he’s literally obsessed with you.

Admires you while your drawing like you are the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Always begs to see your drawings.

Does everything in his power to help you with inspiration or getting out of art block.

Hangs up his favorite pieces you’ve done around the hotel and talks you up to everyone.

• “My my, who would have guessed my little doe was so full of talent? Ah-ha, well me, of course!”

• “Oh yes, they’re nothing short of extraordinary and excel in everything they attempt. It’s absolutely magnificent.”

• “Quite the looker, aren’t they? It’s no wonder I fell so hard, they made this old withering heart beat once more.”

NOW LETS ADDRESS THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM:

What if you broke a rule? Either accidental or on purpose?

*rubs palms together deviously*

I mean it’s hell, so it’s not like you could actually die and he’d permanently lose you, but I could see him considering killing, traumatizing and horrifying you to make a point for when you came back. If you broke the rule on purpose or left the hotel without a damn good reason or asking him, I definitely think he’d ponder on it.

But I honestly don’t know if he’d be able to go that far if he’s to the point that he’s fallen for you.

I definitely think he’d be the kind to chain you away for a bit and ignore you for a while after really scaring you though, having only come in when you cry out for him or need to be attended.

He’d be condescending and emotionally manipulating for sure.

• “Well dear, we wouldn’t be in this predicament if you would have just listened and been good, hm?”

• “No no, you can’t come downstairs. I told you this time out is for two weeks. It’s been only two days darling.”

•“Now that’s not the way one of such class as ourselves behave. Shush your crying, my sweet.”

He wouldn’t tolerate a darling openly defying him, he’d put you over his knee and bruise your behind so quick and wouldn’t think twice.

And getting off punishments easy? Nah.

Good behavior or not, you’re gonna be going through the whole thing every single time. He won’t let you have even an ounce of wiggle room on that.

Your bottom stings after only thirty spanks? He isn’t stopping. He said 50 and he meant it, so buckle up buttercup, this is gonna be a long ride.

You don’t want to finish your plate? Well that’s a nice opinion, quite cute! .. but he doesn’t recall asking you what you wanted, so eat up ~

You aren’t tired? Well, allow him the pleasure of wearing you out and soothing you to slumber.

I think he’d allow the darling to cling to him though, that’s the kind of yandere I see him as. He’d maybe mock you a little at first and seem patronizing but all in all, he finds the need to touch him endearing and he does become fond of it.

I think he’d make you dependent on it, really. He’d always encourage you to cuddle up to him, always making sure you sit or stand directly next to him and that’s he’s always got his arm around you or you hanging onto his own.

He’d be tolerant of your crying. I think he’d find you cute while in distress, so that would be his favorite time to hold you tight. He’d caress your tearstreaks and kiss away the droplets.

•“Sweet sugar plum, you’ve been so emotional lately.”

• “Pretty crybaby, what can I do to make you feel better? Come now, there must be something your husband can whip up for you.”

“Oh, my poor, darling y/n..” he’d tsk, stroking the side of your face and nuzzling noses, “don’t cry, hush now, it’s alright, your faithful and devoted protector is here.”

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 15 (Barca)

No. 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

It was so easy to hide. Although you were usually relatively active on social media, you had a backlog of photos that you wanted to post. Nobody noticed that you were posting photos from previous months, and, if they did, nobody cared. 

You had mastered the art of ignoring a phone call and texting the person back after a few minutes apologizing for missing their call. Your teammates knew that you lived on a random schedule, it wasn’t hard to convince them that you actually had completely missed the dozen calls that you had received that day. You hadn’t, watching your phone screen, waiting for the call to go to voicemail every time. 

You called out of practice for the week, insisting that you were sick. Once this week had passed, there were a few scheduled days off. You could take almost two weeks to try and regain control over yourself. You were spiraling, but no one could know. No one would know. 

—-

A persistent knock grabs your attention. You had previously been zoned out in the living room for an undetermined amount of time. You try to ignore the sound and go back into your haze, but the pounding repeats. Again and again. 

Finally, you pull yourself up from the floor, making your way to the door. Expecting a delivery that needs to be signed for or a salesperson, you open the door without looking through the peephole. 

That was a mistake. A very mad Lucy Bronze is standing, hands on her hips. 

“Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N,” she says sternly, “where have you been? The whole team’s been worried about you, you’ve been ignoring us.”

You don’t respond, staring down at the floor in the doorway. Lucy grows more impatient. 

“I’m waiting. You better have a bloody good explanation, young lady.”

“I’m sorry.”

It's barely a whisper. It’s all you can say, but you know it won’t satisfy her. 

“You’re sorry?! You’re sorry?! No, you’re sorry when you hit someone with a football, or when you make a mistake. You’re not ‘sorry’ when you disappear. You’re not ‘sorry’ when you leave the team.”

Lucy is ranting at this point, her anger clear. Every ‘sorry’ she said was spit, mocking you harshly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Lucy heaves a sigh, breathing in deeply. She’s trying to control herself, you know it. You would understand if she kept yelling. She should keep yelling, you have let everyone down. That’s all you do- constantly disappointing people. 

It’s silent for a moment, Lucy refocusing. She looks at you for the first time, really looks at you. She sees the lack of colour in your face- your normally rosie cheeks drained to an almost translucent. She sees the dark circles under your eyes, begging for rest. She sees the red rims around your eyes, sees the dried tear tracks. She also sees the fresh tears pooling, likely a result of her harsh words. 

Oh. She feels like a terrible bully. 

“Y/N, kiddo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that, I was just scared. No one’s heard from you in over a week, we were all worried. I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, whispering, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she says firmly before lowering her voice to just above a whisper and repeating, “it’s not okay.”

Silence fills the air, neither of you know what to say. Lucy’s deciding how to best convince you to let her in, you’re deciding if it would be more effective to talk Lucy into leaving or to simply slam the door and lock it quickly. You’re leaning towards the second option. 

“Can I come in?” she asks. 

Every part of you is screaming not to let her in. Every part of you is screaming that if you let her in, she’s going to find out everything. Every part of you is screaming that if you let her in and she finds out the truth, she’ll leave you. 

And, yet, you nod. You step aside, letting her in. 

She smiles softly, stepping forward. She waits until you shut the door and turn to head back into the main area, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She pulls you tight to her side, the touch firm. 

The two of you walk to the living room, settling on the sofa. It’s quiet again, the silence suffocating. But neither of you can say a word. 

“I’m okay,” you insist, knowing that’s what she needs to hear, “I can handle things myself. You should go.”

That was good. Maybe she would leave, walk right out the door. Maybe, maybe, if she walked out now, she could walk back in later. If she stayed, she would walk out and stay away. 

Lucy looks closely at you, as if trying to read you. 

“You’re not okay.”

You go to insist that you’re fine, but as your mouth opens, you’re cut off. 

“You’re not okay.”

And something, somewhere breaks. You throw towards Lucy, tears already dripping off of your face. You bury your head into her chest, your breath stuttering. She doesn’t know what to do. 

“That’s it, get it all out,” she says. 

She pulls you to be sitting in her lap, facing her as she hugs your body tightly. Your head is pressed into her neck, the skin instantly turning wet. 

“Good, get it all out. Nice, deep breaths. Good girl, big breaths. Keep taking those nice, big breaths. You’re going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay. I’m right here, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

She continues speaking quietly to you, the words soothing. One of her hands is cradling the back of your head, the other running firmly up and down your back. The pressure helps calm you, and Lucy knows this. It’s also the reason that her cheek is pressed to the top of your head, grounding you. 

Lucy knows you. And Lucy’s here. She’s not going anywhere, firmly connected to you now. 

[siblingshuffle]

Sibling Shuffle: The LaLinde Family!

Here’s the LaLinde family! I looked at the concept art a lot with these guys lol

(I have no one to look over all my stuff IRL & I accept constructive criticism) (my ref. for Tempo’s armor had some weird shadows & I don’t think it looks right but at this point it’s fine)

This honestly took less time than I expected. Really surprised at how well I managed to copy Dr. LaLinde’s pose from her first appearance… anyway

Since there wasn’t much we were shown of Vesper Woman, I had to fill in a couple of gaps (and by that I mean a lot of them). We know she is supposed to annoy Tempo into experiencing emotions, and we know her job… but not much else. She didn’t even have a civilian name / design, and I don’t know if she was supposed to get one later on… so yeah this is what I’ve got for her! I’m really happy with her hair. I think it looks fun :)

As with Piano before her, Dr. LaLinde’s purple hair stood out too much from the rest of the cast. I felt a little guilty because it’s a pretty unique character feature & I already made Piano’s hair change, so she gets to keep a streak of purple.

Tempo gets a dress the same length as her original pencil skirt, but it more closely resembles the concept art for her civilian design. I don’t really have a reason other than I like her concept art outfit & because I can

WARNING: this is a VERY long post. I ramble a LOT.

Lore under the cut!

Around the time that Blues attempted to run away, Dr. LaLinde began work on her own robot child, Tempo. Tempo was created as a “child” more than a “tool” (much like the Light kids). Tempo was, like many kids, cheerful and full of energy.

Assuming the ARTS Convention is a yearly event, I’m going to say Tempo met Blues at one of those. Blues isn’t very comfortable in a crowded area, so he was already a bit thrown off when Tempo ran up to him all excited to meet another robot like her. It took a little bit for him to adjust to her enthusiasm, but they were pretty fast friends :)

Unfortunately, then Tempo was caught in a cave-in later that year, which basically destroyed her. Dr. LaLinde rebuilt her, but when it came time to restore her IC chip, she hesitated. She had lost her daughter once; was she willing to risk going through that again? And she had built Tempo with human-level emotions, who’s to say she wouldn’t end up traumatized? So, she set the IC Chip in a drawer in her desk, where Tempo’s personality and emotions sat until after the next ARTS Convention.

There are a few minor changes to how their reconciliation storyline goes from there. Tempo doesn’t forgive Dr. LaLinde immediately - she’s a little hurt that her mother let her stay dead for longer than was necessary. But she’s a very forgiving person, and makes an effort to trust and forgive Dr. LaLinde again, especially once they actually have an actual conversation about it.

Vesper Woman - who I’m giving the Civilian Name of "Rhythm" (because why would one sibling just. not have a personal name?) - was still created around MM4, (partially) to help Tempo restore her personality & emotions fully. I didn’t really change anything about her, more expanded on what there was already, which was not a lot but. she was literally introduced in the second-to-last issue so what can ya do.

She met Rock while he was trying to come to terms with the fact that he had been working for the bad guy. She tried to get him to cheer up a little, then brought him back to Geoworks HQ when he mentioned needing some help. And the other LaLinde’s recognized him (because they had been alive for longer than a week lol)