#im sorry this took so long anon

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Can you write how Geo would deal with a mc that is always sick? (Totally not cause I'm sick too)

My Remedy for your Malady. (All x Sick! MC/Reader)

Anon. First and foremost, I made you wait 5 1/2 days. I am truly, wholly sorry for this *humbly bows*. (▰︶︹︺▰)

Secondly, I decided that I'm gonna do this for all 7 of our characters, because Jess, Brit and Deryl deserve more attention. I hope you may forgive me for my lateness, and enjoy this fic nonetheless (btw get well soon if you're not already <33).

Also I know that Jess especially is shorter (literally teehee) than the others, but I'm gonna get the hang of her eventually. Same with Deryl. >:]

ALSO, you're in an established relationship with them, so that's why they have (very legal) access to your residence!

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Remedy: a medicine or treatment for a disease or injury.

Malady: a disease or ailment.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo was concerned when he found out you were ill.

When you didn't show up to school for the last few days, he texted you to find out why; to which you bluntly told him you felt like utter shit.

He doesn't pick up on the fact you're sick until you straight-up tell him.

Depending on what type of sick you are, he'll get the appropriate medicines/remedies and speed his way towards your home, hell, he might even skip archery, and he *never* skips archery.

Would rock up with food he knows shouldn't cause any problems or nausea for you and will probably make soup.

And you better fucking eat it.

He will feed it to you (reluctantly, but if you seriously can't do it yourself, then he'll manage).

Will ask you how the hell you fell ill anyway, and depending on your answer, he'll be either: Pissed (if you caught it from someone else), Or exasperated (if you stopped taking care of yourself or didn't equip yourself well enough to deal with the weather).

Will take care of you either way.

Will read to you in Japanese to help you sleep.

Will try to not lie near you if possible, unless absolutely needed. He does not plan on catching shit.

Will remain at your residence until you recover; unless he has classes that are either critically important and/or ones you're also in.

Will lend you his notes.

Will also take them back after a few days.

Will also just probably talk to you while you're bedridden, unless you cannot, in which case he'll simply watch you sleep, occasionally stroking your head and hair to try and comfort you.

He's trying his best, okay?

Sol will freak when he finds out you're sick.

Doesn't care what he's got on next, he's gonna go take care of you.

Will probably feel bad for not telling Hyugo anything about suddenly vanishing

, but he'll understand right?

Will spawn outside your home with: - Medicine, - Your favourite comfort food (if you can eat it without the fear of vomiting), - Probably will bring poetry and art with him, so you both have something to do (that's not him) when you're bedridden.

Will try and hold you if possible, doesn't mind if he gets your blessed germs on him.

You'll have to tell him that you'd worry for him if he fell ill, so he'll respect that.

But he will feed you. You don't have a say in that.

You're being babied now.

He's gonna make sure everything you want (and can have when sick), you'll have.

Is honestly okay with not going to any class, he'll just ask Hyugo for notes if he hasn't been MIAing.

Covers you in blankets if you've got a cold.

If you have a fever? Ice cream. >:]

Essentially tries to uplift your mood as much as humanely possible.

This guy will do anything for you. <33

Crowe will ensure that when he arrives at your home, you'll have everything you'll need.

Will cook your favourite food.

Will make you eat soup and light foods that are easy on the stomach.

Won't touch you, he doesn't want to fall ill, but will read to you.

He's got a soothing voice I just know it.

And he's 110% going to put you in a coma from how tired you feel when his voice hits just right.

Or maybe you're just fatigued because of your body waging a war against god-knows what kind of virus.

Will make you all forms of beverages to suit your illness, will also go out of his way to purchase any, after all, he's got the funding.

Will still go to classes, and takes extensive notes for you.

Will also tutor you the content if you're up for it.

Will stroke your hair if it's not sweaty, as a form of comfort.

Will make you feel as loved as possible.

Because that's what you deserve.

Brittney will be appalled.

How did you get sick? More importantly...who got you sick?

She's gonna yell at them.

Or fight them.

Maybe both.

Will buy a bunch of goodies for the both of you.

She can't cook for shit, so she'll just get takeout as food and order a fuckton of cough drops and Panadol.

You're both gonna be painting each others' nails.

And spilling gossip. Oh my god, she always had gossip.

Will give you notes to subjects that are majors, or ones you share.

Other than that can't offer much.

Will sit away from you to not get sick, but she'll 110% be supporting you emotionally.

Will probably give you a massage when you get better.

Idk she gives the vibe that she would.

Is the most aggressively supportive girlfriend ever.

She only wants you to recover ASAP, and to feel as content as someone who's sick can be. <333

Jess will be focused solely on you recovering as swiftly as humanely possible.

Is upset when she finds out you're fallen ill.

She'll drive to her home, grab the best shit she has and drives to your home.

Stays with you for days on end.

You've become her priority now, after all.

Jess is a very devoted (and lonely) girl, what can I say.

Will try and comfort you via reading to you, or listening to you talk about literally anything.

She just loves your company and you. Poor girl's been neglected her whole life.

She'll try her hardest to take care of you, and she does a very good job. (Ask Brittney teehee)

You're more than glad to have her.

And she to have you.

Hyugo will be astounded.

You? Got sick?

Why?

Did someone make you sick???? (if so teehee someone's getting food poisoning~)

He's at your home, with everything.

Literally everything.

Blankets, movies, games, medicine, puns, your favourite food and whatever else he deems necessary.

Will hug you if you're not aggressively sneezing/coughing.

Will watch movies with you on the couch with you lying on his plush fucking thighs.

Says the most stupid shit in Japanese (such as teaching you how to hide a body) and making it sound like flirting.

Tells you jokes and puns to make you feel better, until you laugh too hard that is and almost die.

Will make food for you.

Will ramble on about random shit to you, or listen to you talk (if you can).

Literally just seeing you content is more than enough for him.

Deryl will be SHOOKETH.

He will sprint to your fucking house. He doesn't care.

You're his only priority now.

Will magically appear at your home, and immediately hugs you.

You can be fucking dying, he doesn't care.

You're getting squashed.

Will be asking if you're okay 24/7

Until he realises he forgot to bring food.

Then he runs to get it, along with tablets, Panadol, all that jazz.

Like RUNS.

HE WILL RUN.

HE IS A FAST MOTHERFUCKER.

FAST!!!!!

Then he gets tired, so by the time he gets to the store, gets the food (and the 'goods'), he's gonna just call a fucking cab and crash at your place. (he forgot takeout existed lol)

He doesn't mind, and frankly, neither do you. The food and snacks was awesome (well, what you could eat anyway).

Will try his absolute best to take care of you, but often gets carried away with his energy. Often talks and rambles to you while you happily lay in bed next to him and listen.

Will call Geo or Jess for how to make a warm soup to feed you.

Then it becomes 'we've got Masterchefs at home'.

Shit goes crazy when Deryl's around tbh.

And you're more than happy to enjoy the ride (in more ways than one ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)).

[antiendovents]

This is more asking for advice than a vent but it's a bit of a vent too. It's really long and I'm so sorry but there's important context and we are also physically incapable of not being long winded. No TW i can think of beyond vague mentions of trauma

TL;DR: A friend claims to be an endogenic system and came out to our friend group first, leaving me to clean up the misinformation mess while navigating the minefield that is them being the more liked friend, while avoiding sounding like a fake claiming asshole. Help

About a year ago we decided to come out to our close friend circle. When we came out to one of our friends, they came out to us back. As endogenic. We were really excited for those few seconds before they revealed they were endogenic, and we didn't say anything then because we genuinely had no idea what to say. The fawning kicked in and for several months we were really trying to be accepting of them being endogenic, but we really can't. After further conversations "one" on "one" with them we've discovered they have a deep level of misinformation that I am not sure how to deal with. I can't just cut them off because we're in a group chat together with several of our other friends who I am almost certain like them more than us.

I can almost guarantee that they have infested the rest of the group with misinformation about a disorder I spent half a year having regular breakdowns about having and what that means for us and our childhood. Realizing what we went through was traumatic, that our mother was genuinely insidiously abusive instead of just kind of mean and crazy, was genuinely one of, if not the hardest, thing we've been through to date. Realizing the memory issues were more than just ADHD and silly brainTM, that the gender fluid stuff was alters, all of it was excruciating. But we made it through the other side. We cut contact with our abusive mother, we have an extremely loving and patient and kind partner that held us while we cried about syscovery and hold us now when we have breakdowns about various other things. We had already done a lot of research on DID before even considered the possibility we could have it for a project in high school, and later when we started really needing to figure out wtf was wrong it was that basis of research that lead us to do further research on it to discover that yes, we have this, and yes, that means we were deeply betrayed by the people who we're supposed to protect us and keep us safe and loved.

This friend who came out has referred to alters as being "dead" or "killed", and they split pretty much the entire cast of Hazbin Hotel immediately after watching it, as well as a different media that I'm not going to say cause it's mildly niche and while I know they don't follow this blog I don't want to risk it. I don't want to fake claim them over this, as many CDD systems have very low split tolerances, are fictive heavy, etc., but on top of them identifying as endogenic and clearly not having done any research beyond TikTok and Tumblr, I just don't know. They have however, mentioned things like amnesia and trauma holders, which indicates to me they are in fact traumatized, likely even more than we are due to the low split tolerance (if they truly are a system), and a traumagenic system, but the endogenic community sunk their grimy predatory claws in and made it impossible for them to come to terms with it.

We really desperately want to correct the misinformation I know has been spread among the group, but more than that I need the friend to accept that endogenic plurality doesn't exist, and that if they are a system, it's traumagenic. I do however, know how difficult it was for us to come to terms with our own trauma, and do t really want to subject another person to that. If we had discovered endogenic plurality before coming to terms with our disorder we likely would have buried our heads in the sand as well, which would have inevitably made it so much worse when we did inevitably have to face our trauma.

I am not super worried about destabilizing them as they have stated they're in therapy with a therapist that recognizes their plurality (though a therapist that accepts endogenic systems as real is just as bad to me as a therapist who doesnt see DID as real at all imo), though that is still a concern. We aren't super close with this friend ourselves, but several people in the group are. I'm mainly worried about losing them or them thinking I'm "fake claiming" them when I got to correct the misinformation.

Anyway, the point of this ask that has taken away too long to get to, is how does one go about both informing a friend (gently and kindly they are genuinely a nice person) that they have trauma, that their system was formed by trauma, and that you really can't be a system without it? How does one go about informing the rest of their friends about the reality of this disorder when you fumbled the first coming out and didn't really make it explicit enough you have DID and not just blorbos in your head cause it's fun? What the hell do I do how do I fix this? This has genuinely been causing a lot of stress and I can't say anything on our blog because they asked for our Tumblr and we gave it when we shouldn't have and now we can't talk about this on there.

Any help or advice would be amazing, whether that's for informing the friend, or the group as a whole. Thank you so much in advance, and thank you for having this space as well. -🦝🧥

i think maybe you should start a conversation with them, try to explain to them first that DID/OSDD is a trauma disorder (if necessary you could try link a few sources or maybe even recommend they look into the sources themselves about it) and once you explain to them you can hopefully explain to the group together that your friend was misinformed and maybe link them some sources too. if you're struggling to find sources here are a few : 01 , 02 , 03 , 04 . they might not be the best but i hope they help and i hope everything goes well. it's not easy to tell a friend they're wrong about something, but sometimes its important to do so, both for you and for them.

[chizuery]

For the qsmp ask game, how about 1, 8, and 9?

1. favorite theory?

The Code Entity being a failed egg experiment, that's why "name the egg" popped out back when the Code Entities were still unknown. Or Philza's theory about the Code Entity.

Another theory is Foolish working with the Federation the entire time, but with the current qFoolish lore happening...

8. thoughts on the code entity and or any third party entity/group that isn’t the federation

I'm so very curious what their motivation is. So far there's two third party groups that exists, which is the Code Entities and whoever Fit is trying to contact. I want to know what their goal is — and what are they trying to investigate about The Federation. Because it seems like they're against The Federation, but we still don't have a reason why. There's also the island in general being suspicious and The Federation portraying it as a "vacation" but it's obviously anything but a vacation...

9. your favorite egg & why?

100% Bobby. And it's not just because I'm very biased with the familioier. Maybe,,, very biased. Bobby is such an adventurous and chaotic egg and I love him so much for it. Bobby is the first egg I've gotten attached to, and it may have to do with only watching Jaiden's POV before. Bobby is so chaotic and would "fight" Roier, but he was such a mama's boy in Jaiden's POV. Bobby is secretly such a sweet egg and he's embarrassed about it. He's always so happy whenever Jaiden logs on the server and so protective of his mama. There's also a time when Jaiden got overwhelmed during the arrival of the Brazilians and everything was going wrong, and Bobby went to Jaiden because he got worried when she was moving away from the crowd. I also love Roier and Bobby's dynamic. The way it started with Roier wanting to use Bobby for revenge and falling to the father-son dynamic as they spent more time together. Just the two of them playfully hitting each other for fun and going on so many adventures together. And when Bobby died, I was so devastated about it and couldn't stop crying the entire time. That stream broke me so bad, but his death brought so much lore. We got N.I.N.H.O, Jaiden working for the Federation lore, Cellbit betrayal arc, etc. I still believe Bobby's the happiest egg out of all; he had such loving parents who encouraged him since Day 1, the nightmare or the kidnapping never stopped him from being adventurous, he loves his parents so much.

qsmp ask game

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

can you PLEASEEEE do something with the idea of reader stealing/wearing katsukis clothes?? you’re the only one who i think will fully do this idea justice xx

pure fluff, reader is a thief, reader likes the way katsuki smells, roughhousing lol kinda ?? katsuki sorta tackles you, katsuki is a meanie, tickling, no pronouns mentioned in this one I don’t think ! lemme know if i missed sum else !!

a/n : hey so this has been sittin in my drafts for literal decades omg IM SO SORRY🙁🙁🙁🙁ALSO BTW TYSM FOR THINKIN I COULD DO UR ASK JUSTICE I WAS SO FLATTERED WHEN I READ THIS I WAS GIGGLING N SHIT🤭🤭i was always so excited for this ask but I literally never got around to doing it after my break n stuff, im slowly (and that’s suuuuper slowly im so sorry yall i suck) getting to all of your asks one at a time and im so grateful yall r still givin me the time of day honestly , so please be patient with me🤧💗💗💍 ! But anway enough dumping ! Anon if you’re still sticking around, i truly hope u enjoy this ! And ofc all of yall too ! much luv xxx!!

"you fuckin' thief.."

shit. you thought he'd be gone for longer.

lately, you’d been routinely sneaking into katsuki’s dorm room and nabbing some of his clothes. sweaters, hoodies, t-shirts : as long as they were in your reach, you’d grab them.

it's not your fault, really ! katsuki's clothes are so cosy and warm and they smell just like him. plus, they're perfect to snuggle in when he's busy, how could you not borrow them for a little while ?!

..except you can admit that you’ve been stalling..and a lot of his clothes were still in your room, but you still planned on giving them back..soon !

and you can’t even pretend, because you’re wearing on of his hoodies that had been missing for a good week now.

"katsuki, baby." you slowly lean away from his clothes drawer, your hand ready to snag a black hoodie of his slowly trailing towards the floor "i can explain."

"all my damn sweaters, my fuckin' hoodies. they all just vanished without a trace.." he starts, slowly stalking over to you. you squeak, slowing getting on your knees to prepare yourself should you have to break his ankles and sprint out of the room. he's fuming, eyebrows twitching "thought i was goin' crazy.."

"and all this time.."

"suki.." you try, voice wobbly as your knees shake with each step closer he gets.

"it's been fucking YOU ?!"

and he pounces.

with a squeal, you scramble and dash away just as he leaps for you and narrowly misses, he's got you cornered as you're on opossite sides of his bed while you beg for mercy and he keeps yelling at you to 'come here'. in a panick you grab one of his pillows and fling it at him.

it feels like the pillow slides down his face in slow motion to reveal a look so vile a demon appearing in front of you right now would scare you less

“you’re. so. dead.”

there’s really nowhere else for you to go. you’re truly cornered, you might as well just be buried right now. you think about the leftovers waiting for you in the fridge and how sero still hadn’t returned the manga he’d leant from you, but you’ve lived a pretty good life.

before your body can decide to move, katsuki leaps over to you tackling you and having you land straight onto his bed with a loud shriek.

frantically, you wave your hands around “wait, wait pleasepleasepleasepleasepleas-” but your begs of mercy are cut off when katsuki jams a finger into your side, causing you to yelp. he hovers over you with a mean smirk. and you know what’s coming.

“katsu—”

you don’t even get to finish before he jams his hands into your sides and mercilessly tickles you.

from an outsiders point of view? this is harmless. but your boyfriend is mean and the biggest asshole in the world because he knows all of your weak spots and the places he knows will have you shaking and gasping for breath. it felt like actually torture, really.

“thought you could get away with it, huh ?” he sneers, leaning down a bit more so he’s eye level with you “thought you could keep taking my shit and i’d just neeever find out, hm ? yeah ?”

“b-but i—ah ! didn’t—!” you gasp and squeal, choking on the sentences you can’t manage to push out of your throat as your eyes squeeze closed. you don’t have to see his face to know he’s enjoying this.

“you’re a fuckin’ thief.” he spits, backing up from you so you don’t headbutt him square in the nose from your thrashing. you’re response is nothing but a harsh gasp and he smirks wider.

you think he’s finally, finally taken pity on you when his fingers slow to a stop, but he glares down at you, hands still on either sides of you “say it.”

you can’t even catch your breath before he hurriedly pressed closer to your sides to scare you, you shriek “stop ! m’sorry !”

“not what i wanted you to say, try again.”

“you’re—” you take a breath “sucha”

his fingers graze your shirt and his eyes are wide, daring you to finish your sentence, you bring your hands up to try to hide his field of vision.

“OKAY ! okay, okay…” you slowly lower your hands away, finally dropping them at your sides with a sigh “m’ a thief…” you mumble in defeat, embarrassment creeping up on you not only from the fact that you got caught but that the blond above you clearly enjoyed your torture if the evil snickers you heard we’re any sign of that.

he hums in satisfaction “mhm, no good fuckin’ thief. should lock you up and throw away the key on your ass.” you hate how handsome he looks when he’s playful like this with you. your sides still hurt and your voice is croaky from how out of breath you were and for a moment you seriously thought you saw the pearly gates.

you pout, and all it does is make him smile wider.

your boyfriend is mean. and the biggest asshole in the entire fucking world.

“s’not my fault..your clothes are comfy.” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “and they smell good.”

he scoffs, leaning down closer towards you “that’s cus i fuckin’ wash them. and i haven’t been able to lately cus someone’s been stealing my entire closet.”

“i didn’t !”

“was boutta make me walk around naked, ya moron. all my clothes are gone.” you roll your eyes, he never lacked in the dramatics department.

“you’re such a drama queen.” you whine, sinking into his comforter. he ignores you and he presses your cheeks together with one hand, chuckling at your smooched cheeks and furrowed brows.

“stop stealing my stuff.” he announces slowly. he’s clear, no way you could’ve misunderstood him anyway. he sighs and presses a quick peck to your lips still pressed together

“if you want one of my sweaters r’something, jus’ come ask me. can give you one..or whatever.” he finishes, voice slightly muffled in embarrassment as he shoves his mouth against yours again and again making wet kissing sounds and you manage a giggle. he rolls his eyes, but a smile slowly crawls up his face anyway as he releases your cheeks. you let out a happy sigh, opening and closing your mouth to get rid of the slight soreness.

“take this shit off though.” he tugs at the hoodie you’re wearing “stinks. need to put it in the wash.”

“no it doesn’t !” you protest, pressing the color against your nose in an attempt to keep it close to you “it smells like you!” you pout. he doesn’t respond for a bit, opting to squint at you while the tips of his ears turned pink. and in a second his snatched the bottom of it and ripped it off of you, ripping a pathetic scream from you.

he examined his hoodie with an unreadable expression before his eyes land back on you for a second, then he slowly starts folding up his sweater “you trynna say i stink ?” he says lowly.

“no. i wouldn’t wear your clothes if they were nasty” you scrunch up your nose “you can take back the sweater in my room, though. the smell is starting to wear off.”

“gee, thanks for offering to give me my sweater back. weirdo” he glares, spitting his words out sarcastically and you giggle at his extra emphasis on his ownership of the hoodie which earns you a huff.

“ i’m grabbing all the shit you took from me, and they stay with me.” he starts warningly “but you can keep this, i guess..” he adds, patting on his now folded hoodie ready for a cleaning. you smile happily, running your socked feet into his blankets.

“ oh, but don’t forget to wear it first after you washed it, want it to smell like you. otherwise there’s no point.”

“you really are a fucking weirdo.” he spits, but the way his cheeks burn bright red say he’s not truly mad about it. you laugh, and katsuki grumbles. “hope you learned your lesson, freak.” he taunts. you hum in fake thought, then release a sigh.

“yeah, i guess i did.” you concede, and he nods proudly.

and sure, yeah, you’re boyfriend’s a big meanie. but you do a great job at riling him up.

“for now.”

[scribz-ag24]

I CANT FIND THE ANON WHO SENT THE COMIC ABOUT THE REPTILES USING BITES TO SHOW AFFECTION AND I AM SO MAD ABOUT IT.

Anyways Grovyle would not have the emotional intelligence to recognize his feelings so his instincts have to do the job for him.

[temeyes]

Can we get a nikolai tummy please? 👉👈

HI ANONNN, made him extra hairy just for uuuu~~~

[americankimchi]

Do you have any tips for writing Obi Wan or any meta in mind with his characterizarion?

hmmm sure why not! i'll give a few tips on how i'd write obi-wan. mind you this is how i interpret the character, so ymmv.

i truly do not like it when fics have obi-wan voluntarily leaving the order. like it's so out-of-character for me in my head that the premise of the story + the writing would have to work triple-time to get me to stick around. now if he's been removed from it by an EXTERNAL SOURCE (not the order. i cannot stress this enough: the jedi kicking obi-wan out is so jarring to me i'll leave the fic in an instant) or somehow unable to return to the order for whatever reason, all is well.

not a prodigy, but a genius. obi-wan is an incredibly intelligent person with an absolutely staggering knowledge base in a wide variety of topics, but all that knowledge was earned through blood, sweat, tears, and time. he sat down with his game face on and put in the work. that's also why he makes an excellent teacher: he knows what most students will struggle with because he struggled too, and knows through experience how best to overcome them. i headcanon that it contributes to why he's such a good negotiator: he's really good at stripping down information to the essentials and communicating that information effectively and efficiently to others because of his intense study habits.

humble, but not ignorant of his skills. it's pretty impossible to fully divorce yourself from pride in your achievements, and i don't think it's healthy to not feel any pride at all, so i think obi-wan has a very clear understanding of his skillset and how best to use it. i don't think he'd be ignorant of how good he is at something, especially since the direct consequence of his aptitude led him to being a member of the jedi council. pretty hard to be blind to your strengths when you're being asked for your input on topics that directly draw from that knowledge.

averse to healthcare. listen i enjoy obi-wan whump just as much as the next obi-wan stan (the desire to put him in the cosmic salad spinner comes with the territory, i fear) but as a character who grew up in an environment that deeply cares for the well-being of all, and knowing that you cannot help others unless you yourself first have the ability to do so, i can't really see him ignoring injuries outside of combat scenarios. like on the battlefield he's got more pressing concerns than a pesky little shrapnel wound or five, but once the battle's over?? he might not be first in line to the medics but i can't see him avoiding them entirely. an army without a general is working at a sharp disadvantage and i don't think he'd risk his men by neglecting his physical health in that manner. note that i said 'physical'. make of that what you will :)

duty. obi-wan is the definition of a paladin. he takes an oath and by the force he's going to keep it. train the boy? absolutely, qui-gon. whether or not anakin chooses to respect that training is another matter, but he did definitively get knighted! refuse to kill anakin? listen he's handed vader his own ass to him twice post order 66 and each time he did it he did it nonlethally. that takes skill. that takes dedication. exile yourself to tatooine for 19 years and then decide fuck it, we ball, and die after Once Again Deciding Not To Kill Anakin Skywalker? step aside casper, there's a new friendly ghost in town. every time obi-wan commits to something the man COMMITS. you GOTTA respect that grind.

flirty but in the sense that he's going to match the energy someone brings to the table. like he's a negotiator. he knows how to read people and figure out the Vibes. if he thinks the other person will be 1) 100% receptive and 2) will respond with a delightful wit, why the hell not? obi-wan's highest stat is charisma and he's got expertise in persuasion. whether they're allies or not does not factor into this equation. he can have a little flirtation with morally dubious and potentially hostile characters. as a treat.

this has nothing to do with his character but i firmly believe that he and quinlan vos had at LEAST a fling when they were padawans. there is zero evidence to back this up aside from a few comics where they were being goofy teenagers together but i stand by this. it is an unshakeable aspect of obi-wan to me that has only gotten worse with the kenobi show.

no matter what, no matter how terrible or devastating or downright apocalyptic it gets, obi-wan kenobi will never fall to the dark side. never. it won't be easy, but that is a line he has never, and will never cross. i will not hear any "obi-wan touched the dark side during the theed generator fight" slander. if that was true tell me why the force theme was playing during his moment of triumph!!! Would John Williams Lie To Us Like That?? to our face?????

anyways i could go on forever about obi-wan because he is My Ultimate Blorbo but this post is getting super long so i'll leave it there. hope this helped even a little or at the very least was entertaining for you to read <3

[petrichorium]

I... would like to hear more of your thoughts about Luffy.... if you have any more to spare.....

lil prequel to this

The jungle is hotter than you anticipated.

It's only been an hour and already you're sweating through your linen shirt. It was foolish, really, to assume you'd be prepared, but before setting foot on the beach you might have said you'd last at least the first day before stripping most of your outerclothes.

Luffy, in contrast, seems perfectly unaffected. Of course it’s been nearly a decade since he’d first entered the Grand Line, an infinity of experience compared to you—in fact you might even say he looks more at home amongst the overgrowth and unseen beasts than he did in the bustling urbanism of your home island. He stands taller, you think; doesn’t bother hunching to your height, shoulders rolled back with eager confidence.

He'd picked up a walking stick somewhere along the way, and though he's offered more than once you've resolutely refused to climb onto that broad back if only because just the sight of it before you has your heart beating ever faster.

(And, admittedly, because more than once you've spotted some bug or another that has drawn you astray, and you'd be far too sheepish to ask him to stop and let you off if you saw one from his back.)

Now you lead the way, following the trail of distinctively eaten foliage that you'd first pointed out to a surprisingly keen pirate king who'd crouched to hover over your shoulder as you eagerly gestured to the characteristic patterns. He's carried on following you, an energetic pup at your heels with hands just a bit too willing to reach out and tug you away from the countless dips and valleys you seem determined to fall down.

Such as the one you stumble across now. The ground drops before you, so large that even your poor reflexes can stop you. Your heart drops even faster—once the trees have given way you realize the cliff you’ve run square into has revealed a perfect view of the ship you arrived on, and just how far into the horizon it’s gotten.

“Ahhhh,” Luffy says, a dismayed sort of noise. You flinch as a heavy forearm slams against your shoulder, the man forcing more of his weight than comfortable onto you as he leans forward. “So slow. The Sunny would have been gone by now.”

“What?”

“The Thousand Sunny! My ship!”

You wrinkle your nose. “I know what the Thousand Sunny is—“

“You do?” He’s giddy now, eager as he leans even closer into your personal space. “She’s the best ship ever, right? With the lion at the front, so cool, I'll take you to sit on it when—“

“I don’t know that much.” Your hand finds his face as you shove him away none too gently. He doesn’t budge. “Just the name, the figurehead… the flag.”

What any person in the world would know about the ship that carries the king of the pirates. You don’t bother clarifying such things anymore. Luffy doesn’t tend to listen.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned by the fact that our ship has sailed off?”

He blinks. “That’s why you brought me along, though.”

The words turn your blood cold. You swallow thickly. “You knew? Did you… did Lyle tell you? Is that why you agreed so quickly?”

Luffy makes a face. When he speaks it’s sour in a distinctly juvenile way. “Don’t talk about him, I don’t like him. And I really don’t like when you talk about him.”

"He's my husband," is all you can think to say in response.

"He wants you dead."

Even more than before, you feel as if you've been doused in freezing water, as if the air has been knocked from your lungs. You knew—of course you knew, obviously you knew, but hearing it aloud is an entirely different territory. Your knees buckle; Luffy’s hands find your waist before you can drop, lifting you with ease to deposit you almost tenderly onto the large outcropping of rock you’d been bracing yourself against.

They rest on either side of your thighs. You try not to think too hard about how warm they feel against you.

Your new perch is high enough that you’re level with him now. It’s a more comfortable feeling, no longer craning your neck to look him in the eye. Except he has other intentions; ones that have your face growing hot as he sighs and lowers his head to rest his cheek against the soft give of your thigh.

He’s always been touchy, moreso than appropriate, but it’s never been anything this bold. When he glances up at you through lidded eyes your breath hitches, a thrill going through you.

“We’ll just wait for my crew, yeah? If I don’t show up in a couple days they’ll follow my vivre card to find us. But you knew all that, didn’t you?”

You squirm a little. Luffy's arm tightens around your legs.

"Stop that. Just lemme—"

He shoves his face into your stomach. You yelp, hand flying to grip his hair none too gently—but that only drags a groan from him as he presses further and inhales deeply. Your abdomen tenses involuntarily.

(Lyle had never touched you so intimately, and certainly never so desperately. It had all been courteous and tasteful during the course of your arranged engagement, and then he'd gone cold after the wedding. Some rebellious part of you wishes he could see you and the king of the pirates now...)

He pulls back only when you finally sink into it. Stomach still fluttering, you push it aside and lean back on your forearm, that hand in his hair relaxing to stroke through the strands absent-mindedly. He eases up, lifting his head to watch you.

“Why?” You say finally. “Why are you so calm? I tricked you into coming here, I lied to you, I manipulated you, and you just went along with it? Now you’re stranded on this island with me for who knows how long until your people finally show up and you’re just okay with that? Why?”

Luffy blinks at you, dark eyes wide as his head tilts and his mouth pulls into a pout that has your heart skipping a beat.

“Well… you’re gonna join my crew, aren’t you?”

[yikesb3rg]

mkx johnshi maybe?

mrow

[arcadebandit]

you should totally draw 80s boyfriends haha,,,

ah yes, my favorite ship dynamic: trash goblin man x sunshine bf

HC: Felix is very, very supportive when it comes to Turbo's races. Even if he wins every lap and likes to be a snob about it, Turbo actually gets super flustered at Felix's compliments because he's so genuine about it.

I love 8-bit yaoi.

[waterghostype]

what the water gave me by florence + the machine but it's jay and nya

But oh, my love, don't forget me When I let the water take me

im editing this post to put a fixed version here bc i dont like the one i posted but i kept it up for too long

[sweetlandspos]

Your art is simply georgeous, I really love how you draw Sukuna ❤️ I wonder if someday you could draw Sukuna in his original form? I honestly think his Heian Era form is beautiful.

This is obviously just a suggestion, of course you can ignore it. ^^

Kept the undercut cause I love it

[sukunasun]

may i pls get some alpha sukuna… he’s so nasty (affectionate)

sukuna's every bit the perfect alpha on paper. ask the potential omegas lining up to fix a nest in his home and watch them salivate for a knot so large and a bond so deep. an alpha they'll present and prostrate for. there are rumours about the sheer weight and size of his cock, the heady pheromones, not to mention his week-long ruts. call it an impossible excursion—a breeding fuckfest with only one thing in mind. to be used and bred full of his pups. a litter or two or more. fucking without care—brutal, relentless, and insatiable.

but forget that his reputation precedes him. sukuna's true value as an alpha stands solely on his capability to hunt and chase, to capture a coveted mate he keeps...or lack thereof.

contrary to the rules of ritual, courting is by far the least of sukuna's priorities. turning his nose up at romance and the like when he's had potential mates eating out the palm of his hand since the beginning. there's no need to make a song and dance about it when he'd have his pick and fill of omegas without needing to try. much less convince them of his oh so superior traits.

he's attractive, you'll give him that. most alphas are. but there's something extra special about a tall man with tattoos and a mean side. such callousness. oozing masculinity and hot-blooded need. like an impending storm. too intense, too forthcoming, and way more than you're prepared for. after all, an unmated alpha is an available alpha and you're not one to compete.

'she's so inadequate for a mate. he'll reject her soon.' they say. any time now and some other needy thing might just swoop in to take her place. someone who's deserving of it.

what a waste, you've gotten the attention of the most powerful alpha you've ever met and want nothing to do with it—a self-righteous omega who believes alphas should know better. why give in to such baser instincts, how primitive, how primal. moreso in this day and age when suppressants are readily available and cycles can be tracked to a T.

which is why you don't look back when his gaze lingers a bit too long. adding distance when he not-so-subtly attempts to leave his scent on you. going as far as to turn him down the first time he cages you in and offers—upfront and blatantly—to 'help you out' with your next heat. as if you were some charity case. "promise i won't bite," he teases you about your barren neck and inexperience, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

"i'm not interested," you scoff, leaving him there with a hard-on in his pants and no relief. he might be a prized alpha but you won't entertain the idea of proving yourself. stroking his ego and preening for him. you were just as valuable of a partner despite being beyond your prime years with zero experience and still unmated.

••••••••••••••••••••

the only problem is that he won't take no for an answer.

he's made his choice among the other blurred faces and dull scents. been waiting a long time for someone as irresistible as you. "do you fear me?" he asks the moment you bend over his kitchen counter. he allows himself a peek at a round ass and soft hips, also to sniff at your scent permeating the air. omega. he knows as much. you make it pretty obvious with your distaste for alphas. but the sweet-scented slick between your legs is as telling.

geez. he thinks. those suppressants of yours are next to useless if you're already dripping this much within proximity to an alpha. not just any alpha either, sukuna's well aware you're beginning to fall for him. you want him so bad and it's so unfair. he's barely even touched you. but only because he's wondering if your underwear would survive the rest of the day. 'what if she's wearing a thong and her thighs get drenched too.' he grins like a wolf at the thought.

you admit with a heavy heart, "i'm more afraid of what i'm like with you." because how does one resist his advances. sukuna pushes the envelope just enough to make your knees buckle. his domineering aura makes everyone else cower in fear under a cold gaze but watch how it turns into a dreamy one when you push his face away after a kiss gets heated. his incisors poke you slightly like a teasing taunt and you find yourself fighting the pleasure.

"it's natural," he'll justify. how your body longs so desperately to belong to this alpha. succumbing to his...ferventness. his large, heated hands roaming over your breasts hidden underneath his shirt. the collar's too wide but it gives him room to wrap his fist delicately around your neck. you bite back an excited squeal when it feels so right.

••••••••••••••••••••

there's something off about him when sukuna returns home late that night. an unfamiliar scent lingers on his clothing and your stomach twist with a possessive feeling. the same one that eats you alive to the point of guilt. you smell it the moment he walks through the door of your bedroom. 

nothing like yours, it's not sharp enough to be daunting nor is it reminiscent of an alpha's scent. but it's potent. almost as if they were doing it on purpose. releasing their pheromones so he'd pick up on it, or worse, that you'd notice.

you try not to jump to any conclusions and you don't want to be jealous, but it's hard having your boyfriend come home with the smell of another omega on him.

you straddle him against the headboard with a hardened look on your face. involuntarily snarling as you peel his suit jacket off. shirt buttons coming apart under your rushed hands.

he grins at your ferocious display. reminds him of an angry kitten. he grinds his hips upwards, keeping you in place with steady hands. bouncing you on top of his clothed cock wasn't in the plans tonight, he thought he'd shower off the stench. it's not like it was strong enough to affect him.

but he tries to get you off instead, while he tries to get himself some self-control. "feel good?" he dares to question when you're practically losing your mind, a sudden spike of lust spurs in your belly, incited with just that little bit of friction. hoping feverishly that the scent of fresh arousal will be overridden by heat and breathy gasps through gritted teeth.

you're hardly in a headspace to reply but an eager nod shall suffice. "didn't think you'd be the jealous type," you feel him nipping at your ear, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck, the slight graze of teeth against freshly washed and oiled skin,

"i'm not jealous—" you lie. holding back a moan when he rocks a little faster, writhing atop him in pleasure. your nipples have risen taut against your nightgown and it makes an incredibly lewd sight. sitting in his lap so compliantly.

“i'd want them to watch us,” he whispers and you'd never do such a thing but the idea turns you on. he tells you that back in ancient times they used to partake in mating rituals and bonding ceremonies. privacy was more a privilege then and so was having an audience. that other omegas and betas would know of their place. how insignificant they are, if only they could watch you now, pussy fluttering and juices leaking all over their prized alpha.

••••••••••••••••••••

sukuna watches your face as you come undone for the fourth time. shushes your sobbing cries with a gentle hand caressing your back. "you don't have to worry," he's too busy holding himself back to find another.

says he wants to do things on your own terms and timing. swears that he won't easily fall prey to the lingering sweet-scented air around you, perfumed syrup and sugar. gently skimming his lips and tongue over a soft nape, a supple shoulder. he'll settle for merely licking the flesh he wishes to sink his teeth into. a caress, a chaste kiss, but never bruising or breaking.

he swallows the protest to earn your approving smile in return. it's enough of a struggle seeing you prancing around unaffected while he's been dying to fuck you senseless. to do what's natural to him. "it's wrong for an unmated couple to live together," seems to be everyone else's motto and he'd like to laugh but there's a shred of truth to it. he realises that it's impossible when he wants to fuck all. the. time.

gritting his teeth and forcing a smile when he's hit with a waft of your scent, he knows you're turned on. you want it just as much—every heat spent away from him in separate rooms. he smells your slick calling out to him. hears your moans poorly muffled and overshadowed by the sounds of you fucking yourself. your pussy bare and gleaming, he'll get on his knees for a taste. prying your twitching thighs apart, forcing them open if he has to, his lips nibbling and sucking your clit til you're crying from the pleasure, thrumming his tongue so fast it drives you crazy. all for the tang of your squirt staining his tastebuds and mussed-up sheets below.

but he shouldn't live life by the balls. no matter how full and heavy they get with the need for release. preferably inside you, so deep and plenty he finds himself picturing it at random times of the day. zoning out in his office, in the middle of traffic. how full you'd look with your belly bulging out. would it drip between your pussy lips or should he plug you with his cock instead, refusing a single drop to leak.

still, he wills himself to stay within your bounds. being lustful and possessive isn't anything to be ashamed of. it's part of his makeup but he's more than that. two people are perfectly capable of looking beyond their sex and desires—or so you tell him.

••••••••••••••••••••

his rut arrives when his symptoms not-so casually appear in the middle of the week. pheromones and a temper not even you can subdue. he's biting into his knuckles from the arousal spurred on by great timing and comically predictable circumstances—just the smell and sight of you there, happily unaware and otherwise tempting.

maybe your expectations have been exceedingly high. you can't change his nature. but how dare he forbid you from entering the home you shared, spare keys hidden and passcodes altered. "leave—" he warns, then breathes a frustrated sigh, "—it's not safe."

not that he feels particularly sorry about his tone, but what separates him from you is but a door and a razor-thin resolve. he's at his limit. he won't survive this on suppressants alone. not with you looking the way you do. "how can i help?" you ask worriedly, wrecking your head over him. wanting to comfort and coddle. for someone who turns their nose up at omegan stereotypes, you're playing the part so perfectly it drives him mad.

because it's the worst experience for an alpha to go through a rut alone. you'd understand the pain of having to suppress a heat. all the years dealing with the fevers and cramps. milk leaking from your sore nipples wishing he'd be there to relieve the pressure. a nest of him and only him. grinding and burrowing within amber, musk, and spice. intoxicating, intense, chasing after the smell found in his sweat-drenched tee, a wrinkled white shirt bearing smoke and aftershave on its collar. snuggling his pillow and getting off with your fingers or a whirring toy at its highest speed, but it's not enough, never enough. pussy contracting on absolutely nothing.

his den is dark and moody when you step inside. slipping into a frenzied haze, there he lazes with legs spread on your shared bed big enough for four, it stretches wider than you remembered, or maybe it's that you've yet to see it in this light, waiting to be broken in and littered with your belongings. he's grabbed at them in a rush. whatever your scent clung to. your duvet, your stuffed toy, and pretty, day-old crimson panties gripped in the same fist he pumps his cock with.

the threads fray, soaked fabric snapping and stretching with every drag down his shaft. rip. rip. rippp. a hole tears through when he tugs too hard and that heavy thing slaps over his stomach with a resounding smack.

you see it for the first time and wonder why not sooner. the perfect dick hiding in plain sight. actually, that's not true. you just haven't seen it this up close and personal. but given the sneak peeks—when the steam clears in the shower and it hangs soft and hefty, the way it juts out of tight gym shorts, or just...the swell of it rubbing in between your ass cheeks when he gets needy—none of them could've prepared you for this.

sukuna thinks it’s so ugly and brutish. he's found many an opportunity to tell you so, even now as his head cranes backwards with a frustrated groan, a growl that rumbles from somewhere deep within. ”it's enough to scare off any omega—” he says, a knowing smirk on his face when he can practically smell the slick dribbling down your thighs, saturating your panties, "—but not you."

a thick vein throbs on the underside, tip bulging and a little darker than the shaft, girthy and gushing with precum. his balls are heavy, taut with tension under the soft skin, and you shudder at the thought of what his knot would look like...who would've thought that such a monstrous-looking thing would have this much of an effect on you. weak in the knees and stomach fluttering in anticipation. the way it seems oh so daunting, how are you meant to take all of that inside you. if he laid the entire thing right against your stomach, how far would it go? it'd be enough to knock the wind out of you.

you try to calm your nerves. it's just a rut. it'll be over in no time. quick and simple. although you've read plenty of stories and watched the videos to know this wouldn't be a passionate embrace. no tenderness or care for your pleasure let alone your comfort. you wish to believe that he'll be careful if not a bit rough. and maybe a part of you wants to please him. despite all your certainties, would it be so bad to make him feel good and satisfy his needs? would it be wrong to wish for his scent mark, and his bonding bite. to be claimed and chosen.

it's an expression you've never seen before. as if he wants to devour you. he won't explain himself as he makes you watch. turning you into a voyeur as the urge takes over him. hooded eyes locked on yours, his blown-out pupils and slobbering drool are enough evidence for you—he intends to mate.

whimpering his name does nothing to quell his madness or ministrations. he's so far gone you don't think he comprehends the things he says, "can't wait to knot you...breed you...been wanting to taste you for so long..." he purrs, low and rumbling from his chest. sharp teeth grazing against your earlobe teasingly but never biting down on the cartilage, just a light nibble that turns you into a shivering mess. he's caught you within his jaws and your instincts argue against your better judgement, you're beyond fighting and struggling now while your weak hands push against his hulking mass to no avail.

yet, it's thrilling. amazing even. an alpha pinned atop you and nowhere to run. his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck, the back of your ear, both your arms lifted in his singlehanded grasp. he dives for every inch of skin, every spot that bears your aroma the strongest, going as far into the divot of your armpit while he's laving at the salt and sweat greedily. his saliva scenting sugar-sweet skin, marking you as his chosen victim. "you're so dirty—" is more of a plea for him to snap out of it. already embarrassed, exposed, and so eager.

he takes a pebbled nipple between his teeth and swirls his tongue around the tip of it. you're too distracted to realise he hadn't responded to your quip, because your scent told him all he needed to know, so did the soft whimper when he abandons one nipple, and the moan when he takes the other in his mouth.

there's a way to do things and sukuna's way is unmerciful. a man has never been this good at finding a clit, which is probably why his tongue won't leave it alone. he keeps his tongue broad until it comes out of hiding before he's got his lips wrapped around. he sucks on it languidly. pulls away just to spit and slaver, blow a raspberry for fun. marvelling at the drool and the mess you've made.

no time to waste when most of it was spent not eating your pussy. sukuna hums and hungrily feasts, tongue flicking frantically. your screams come out involuntarily, unable to hold back your moans coming out in short staccato bursts. a little panicked, but nonetheless agreeable. "something's happening! wait—" you hiss when it starts to burn a little. your hips lifting off the bed while his fingers keep prodding that special spot inside.

it only makes it all the more pleasurable when the pressure builds, when the squeeze feels so tight. you clench and feel every pass of his digits, every purposeful lick. "—kuna, i think i'm gonna—" his fingers quicken while his other forearm presses down on your pelvis to keep you in place and it's more than enough to make you come hard. gushing again and again, streaking the sheets and his smug expression.

"i've always wanted to do that," he admits cheekily. a face you can't stop admiring now that it's covered in your juices. your legs tremble and you can't catch your breath whilst he's leaving gentle kisses on your oversensitive lips, but he's far from finished with you.

with his cock leaking in his hold, he taps it on your sticky heat for good measure before gliding it back and forth, the opening of his cock prodding, getting caught on your clit as he slips in slow. with how thick he is, you feel every ridge and vein. gasping at the first push and fisting the sheets to try and accommodate.

unsurprisingly, it hurts just a pinch. "please,” you mewl, just that single word slipping past ragged breaths as you struggle. throat dry and crackly from the heaving and the foggy, post-orgasm haze. you don't know if you want him to stop or to go on but—"what if it can't fit?" you're genuinely concerned because it might not physically fit. already full to the brim, your pussy stretches so snugly around his shaft like a glove.

"there's a lot more to go," he hints at the rest of his cock he's yet to sheath inside you. "but we'll make it fit," a large palm rests over your womb as he swipes his thumb against your clit, hoping it'll ease the discomfort.

you nod weakly, whimpering "i trust you," but he's so big. you can feel your pussy trying to suck him in, a bead of sweat travels down your chest. mouth falling open as he slips in a little at a time, girth forcing your entrance to open wider. buries his cock in the one pussy he’s fantasized about the most and ruts like he's always wanted to.

••••••••••••••••••••

on the third day, you start getting restless. feeling sore and exhausted while running on no sleep and little bites of food. the room is in dire need of fresh air and the bed frame is on its last legs, but sukuna's urges grow stronger by the day. he barely manages to pull out to hydrate before he goes back to fucking you. always so slow and gentle, however, your moans and whines spill out, slowly but surely you succumb to every orgasm that rocks through you. wave after rippling wave.

still hard and throbbing the entire time. it's probably because every time your neck cranes upwards as an offering, baring your mating gland, he avoids it. fighting it. "why won't you knot me?" comes out sounding pouty and petulant but you don't care. your delectable scent slowly fades into a bitter note, anxiety and insecurity filling your voice. sukuna hasn't even tried to push it past your folds. steadily milking his knot outside of where it should be with his own hands is enough of a blatant rejection.

he reminds himself that he'd sworn to never let it go that far, knotting you would change everything, what if you couldn't see him the same way, that he was just another alpha who took you for himself. "i can't," guilt laces his voice and so does his frustration when his conscience appears from behind the pussy-drunk fog. his heart bleeding, his instincts yearning. 'i don't want to hurt you' is what he means. but what you hear in your dejected state is 'you won't be able to handle it.'

was it your inexperience that made him uninterested? you knew alphas liked them subservient, obedient. just like an omega should be. taking his knot without qualms. consummating in perfect rhythm. a tinge of pain shoots through your chest at the thought—sukuna could have any omega he wants, you've kept him waiting too long, you've made him doubt. you're not able to keep up, to please him, to be enough...despite giving in. despite trying your best to take him. he won't claim you,' says the voice in your head.

a whimper breaks from you at his words. you shouldn't have to ask, this was meant to be innate, instinctual, not something he has to restrain himself from. "aren't i your mate? don't i belong to you?" you sob, hot tears flowing down your cheeks.

he presses his forehead to yours, "you're gonna bleed, i might break you," he tries to explain, getting uncharacteristically soft in the moment. it's your fault for stumbling across a wounded beast. finding your way into his broken heart. binding the pieces back together while you soothe the aches and kiss his scars. 'yes you belong to me.' his beautiful omega who begs so nicely to be mated, if this is what you're like three days in, he longs to see what you're like in heat.

you shake your head, getting stubborn. you won't accept it and you're on the verge of clawing at him to get away. you've been ready at his mercy and what for. just to come out the other end dissatisfied and unfulfilled. fuck. you just want it to be done with. defile me, ravage me, you want him completely.

in an attempt to fight him, you let out a harmless threat, one you regret the moment it's uttered because you've gone too far—"if you won't do it, i'll find another alpha who will!"

suddenly, sukuna's thoughts are invaded by that sick thought. scenes of you naked and oozing slick. pinned beneath another alpha, his weight pressing into you along with his knot, glaring at him as he makes his claim the way he couldn't and it makes him snap.

the growling sound that leaves his mouth is a warning, and so is the hand that slips around your throat. large fingers coming together around your neck. the squeeze cutting your gasp short. it should frighten you, he could snap your neck as easily as it is to split a matchstick in half and right now, he seems just about ready to.

"careful now, omega," he spits out, teeth bared and demanding submission. forbidding and looming above you, his fist tightens ever so slightly. "you've forgotten your place," it seems you've misjudged your role and the precarious position you're in. fucked out in his den, in his bed. intentionally riling him up won't do you any good. no one touches you, scents you, or claims you but him no matter how your feet kick him uselessly, he doesn't move an inch.

"i'm sorry—" you pant, "i'll be good, i promise." you squirm and wriggle underneath, uncertain if you should run or relish in it. so ominous it turns you on even more. he's never put you in your place like this and you think you should make him jealous more often if it means he'd choke you out and go feral on your pussy.

"is that so?" he tries again. presses his cock in slowly inch by inch. feeling your pussy open up and yield to his girth. sukuna leans in close so he gets to watch your eyes roll back. bullies his way through with one deep thrust and finds himself balls-deep. "you want it so bad? want me to ruin this perfect pussy all because you wanna cum all over my knot, i won't stop til you're screaming and milking me dry—"

muscle memory forces your back to arch towards him. his broad chest against your nipples, delicious hot skin rubbing your hardened nubs the right way. he stills for a moment before he withdraws slowly, a mix of pleasure and anticipation coiling in your belly.

watching him, watching you. he looks down and groans at the obscene sight of cream and slick coating his shaft, viscous and too much to bear. the bulge in your tummy protrudes where his cock takes up all that space, rearranging your guts had never looked this lewd.

when his knot finally kisses your entrance, you feel it hot and prodding against you. desperate for him shove it in. to feel it pop through and nestle so deep, all the way to the hilt while he stays there and unloads himself inside you. balls twitching, sitting in a warm crook he’s found. your omega instincts sing at the thought of him filling you up. "knot me, breed me, my alpha—" you cry. begging for it, hot and immensely copious. a sticky mess all over, both the mattress completely drenched in fluids and your insides coated in his seed.

he feels the give of your womb, the tightness around the head of his cock. groaning at the sensation. just a little bit more and he'd be buried, finally. he fucks you violently, no holds barred. hands gripping your hips so achingly tight he might shatter your pelvis into pieces. you'll count the bruises later on but shall forgive him for the fact that he's cumming his brains out.

you're crying and babbling mindlessly, yes yes just like that. your limbs begin to shake as your peak edges closer, hand gripping his bicep while bracing yourself. wild and frantic hips jerking and shallow thrusts bumping and nudging against your cervix. striking deep and rocking you against the sheets.

your shivering doesn't go unnoticed and there he leans in to give your oiled and mouth-watering neck a final lick, shushing you with a gentle, calming kiss to your mating gland in preparation for his teeth.

and when he finally pushes his knot in, cock piercing your womb as your pussy clamps down viciously on its slim spot at the base, his teeth spears into your flesh with ease. there's the give of taut skin and tight muscle but soon he settles deep enough for blood to trickle and you come several times, pulsing and fluttering along multiple orgasms rolling in after the next, enough that you're shaking in his hold.

you cry and cry, overstimulated, sensitive, and so in love. not only with how full you feel but you surprise him with your own teeth sinking down into his trapezius, not too deep into muscle but just enough to leave tiny dents in his skin. your chattering jaw and slippery lips can't find purchase while you're preoccupied with whining his name. so you try again, this time closer to his neck.

sukuna catches on to your efforts and finds it all the more endearing. helping you find the perfect spot, he manoeuvres his neck closer while you give him light nibbles and sharp pinprick nips here and there but they're all too soft to pierce the skin. "do it," he pants, "mark me anywhere, i'm yours."

it must be his words that urge you but you think it's more to do with the greed roiling inside you. you want to leave a mark that he'd never be able to cover up. by the time he's grinding his knot into you again, pulling at your hips and guiding you on it like a toy, milking him of whatever's left, your lips part around the front of his neck without any more hesitation. inhaling his scent deeply, the vibrations of his groans rattling against your teeth, before biting down on his throat. teeth embedded deep and tongue lapping at his bobbing adam's apple.

he leans in to kiss you filthy and open-mouthed, tongues swapping spit and bloody iron while your thumbs caress his jaw and neck, adding a little pressure to the spot where his freshly bitten mating gland throbs quickly. a hummingbird wingbeat beneath your fingertips.

[bigshotautos]

I really like your theory about Spamton basically haunting a mannequin after death. Have you ever touched upon the reaction from Jevil (or anyone, really) upon seeing the new Spamton? Especially considering Spamton isn't even aware he 'died'.

^ how i think jevil's first sight of Spamton would go. i love this ask. this is referring to some headcanons I made a while back, I'll link it here for the one post and the general ghost spamton theory is linked in that one as well. Going to elaborate on it more under the cut for those interested + more art.

In general I think that people from Spamton's past wouldn't really care if they notice at all, since he wasn't in the business of making close friends with anyone. With the Addisons, in my interpretation he had a "weird co-worker" relationship with them, and while Addisons in general treated each other like potential business competitors that they had to make-nice with, Spamton is especially easy to single out for being visibly and temperamentally different. His altered, current state is something they'd feel at least uncomfortable by, but many wouldn't have been too close with him to begin with for them to talk about it with him directly. Would get whispered about between each other for sure, like we saw with them talking about Spamton after the NEO fight. It moves him from the "disgraced guy I used to know" category to the "actually unpleasant to look at or think about" territory. This goes for Swatch, Queen, and Seam (less so), who seem to buy heavily into the Lightner and Darkner dynamic, with Spamton corrupting the Lightner's dream being a strong taboo against what it means to be a Darkner.

As for what Jevil thinks, Spamton during the NEO fight is both a beautiful and horrifying display. Jevil at this point hasn't seen him in years since his imprisonment, and in their time apart Jevil has grown to find novelty in the cage that everyone else besides him is in since he's created huge emotional distance between him and the reality he lives in. Seeing the fact that Spamton had corrupted an abandoned dream of a Lightner and was causing so much chaos to the established order of the world would be exhilarating, but at the same time seeing that Spamton had accomplished this and still had his strings visible (and changed to a marionette puppet with no symbolic agency), it'd be a painful confirmation of his worldview that even Spamton, who deep down he still cares for, could never have been free.

Jevil would think at first he'd just gone through some nebulous situation to change what he looks like, since ofc he himself has toy-like traits (arguable if that happened with Gasterfication or not), Seam is a plushie cat, and other Card Castle Darkners are based on toys, but feeling the lack of life combined with the symbolic body of Spamton would mean to him something bigger had went wrong. He wouldn't dare to bring it up in an empathetic way, stuck in his mindset that it doesn't matter, but it'd still hit a part of him he doesn't like to think still exists. It's something he gets over quickly, almost performatively going back to fucking with him and taking advantage of his fear for entertainment, but it didn't sit well at first.

To me, the fact Spamton "died" isn't really a huge deal, kind of like with the ghosts in Undertale where no one really cares they're just ghosts. They're just doing their thing. To me it'd be fine if neither of them find out what happened for certain, but it's something that adds Flavor to his character.

[layraket]

I really like your art.. and you're really cool ajajaas bueno este yo estoy hoy aqui para preguntar si podrías dibujar a Wind y Vio jugando jenga encima de Wolfie.. AJAJSJSJAJS D PERSONA POR LA IDEA CRACK ESQ NO ME LA SACO DE LA CABEZAAAAA

vio is testing how much patience has twilight how much time can wolfie stay still

wind is there for emotional support

enfin se la estan pasando de bomba

[coryyes]

i dont have a specific prompt for u to draw (i have no brain for it at the moment) but id love to see more of ur komahina art...

throws this at you like im throwing bread crumbs to a duck