#its no longer short

[hinamie]

i don't normally participate in these redraw challenges but it's megumi so i'll make an exception

[vela-pulsars]

a little experiment

[pahatarcarabosse]

[httpiastri]

lando norris x reader, 18+

"i'm bored."

lando's head shoots up from below you. your head is tilted to the side, gazing out the window as if you can't be bothered to care about the man between your legs; as if anything, even the gray skies outside, is more interesting than this.

but you're just pretending, of course.

there's no doubt in the way that your body always trembles under his touch, or the way that your cheeks grow hot when he just looks at you. he may be slow and careful, taking his time with his touches instead of rushing into things, but he's never been boring to you before, and he sure isn't now.

"what?" lando asks, frowning. he's a bit confused – after all, you were the one who called him up half an hour ago, begging him to come over – but he's not completely sure he believes you. he knows the effect he has on you. "you're talking nonsense."

you shake your head slightly. "no, this is boring..." you mutter, letting out an exaggerated sigh. his kisses still linger where he left them on the inside of your thighs just moments ago, and you already regret making him halt his actions.

"god, you're so bratty."

your eyes dart back at him. there's a teasing grin on his lips, and his fingers on your thighs suddenly make themselves known again. one thumb draws circles into your skin, as the other hand moves up to swipe just along the edge of your slit. "i- i'm not." the instability of your voice is clear to lando, and it's easy for him to take notice of how your legs have tensed up in just a moment. "i just... want you to..."

your eyes flutter closed when one of his fingers makes contact with your clit. "hm? what do you want me to do to you?" he increases the pressure, casually circling your bud as your hips buck up slightly. "for you to feel less bored?"

"you- you've said that-" a whine escapes from your mouth, not able to form your sentences when he's teasing you like this. he notices and slows down his movements to let you speak. "you said that you like to make my eyes roll," your eyes find his the moment you open your eyelids. "do it."

he cocks an eyebrow at you. "alright, then." his lips trace down from your stomach to right above your core, kisses still feathery yet carrying more purpose than before. "your wish is my command."

[whaliiwatching]

a rendezvous beyond

and a halfway closeup just bc im rlly happy with how the bg turned out lol

[glitteraffe-art]

(bt voice) commander briggs. may i keep him

second image based on this meme:

[xxplastic-cubexx]

chat if i may speak

[buwheal]

hey spamton! anything interesting happen recently?

[gurggggleburgle]

the reason why Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan can't attic wife each other in their house and never leave is that they don't have internet or anything else around to help keep them moving. I think we chalk too much of Shen Qingqiu being a super productive person post transmigration often too much to reading into things and treating his unreliable narration as fact.

But like, what is he supposed to do all if not actually go outside and talk to people and get a job. Luo Binghe needs to do things other than be a housewife for his own sanity so he doesn't cabin fever. He can't live focusing his day around a singular person being in the room its not healthy and would drive him insane. These are not overly productive constantly doing things people. These are people doing things to make sure they aren't malaise slugs feeling nothing in their day to day drudgery.

This is just what a healthy post/pre internet mental state kinda looks like.

[luckyfox3000]

DC X DP PROMT #20

Hello there lovely fanfic obsessed people! New promt!

This was NOT how jason thought his day would go.

Jason let out a dramatic groan as he mentally screamed to his abusers the universe.

Looking down at his new, blue eyes ward, he looked to the sky and wondered where it all went wrong.

...To be fair, when he saw a supposedly abandoned child with black hair and blue eyes he shouldn't have trusted the innocent smile given to him.

'Well' He thought, eyeing the boy, 'at the very least it was sure to give bruce aneurysm.'

Feel free to use or add on!

[bettertwin9000]

Butterfly. I did the best I could with my longer taills- S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N Helped a bit as well.

[postmortemnivis]

“it’s just a girl harmonising with her fan”

so close! it’s actually simon who has to come back to base after johnnys death, his best mates blood still on his vest and hands. hands, because he even took off his gloves, thinking it’d save him.

the barracks have never felt and sounded so silent, even the light buzzing of the led lights is quiet.

simon opens the door to johnnys room in his usual silence, but this time he’s not knocking on the door and asking johnny if he fancies a fag outside, he’s sitting down on his bed in a trance. looking down between his leather boots he notices some dark red, dry spots. his eyes immediately go somewhere else. his throat dries and his eyes start to sting. he decides to leave the room immediately.

his brain hasn’t registered yet that price will soon come and tell him to put johnnys stuff in cardboard boxes and ship them to his family. no, simon could never. he’d get on the first train and bring johnnys mother her boy’s stuff himself.

simon takes johnnys journal from under his pillow, he knows it’s there, he’s seen him hide it there so many times. flipping through the pages he finds unlinked quotes, thoughts and many, many drawings. sketches. polaroid photos and digital ones. a few flowers pressed between some pages and even ferry tickets, receipts. trinkets.

“simon.” kyle’s voice calls him from the door he left open without noticing. “simon.”

“wha’?”

“captain wants to talk to us.” the man replies. “to you.”

“tell ‘im m’busy.” simon grunts, closing the journal and holding it tightly in his hand.

“simon…”

“did i stutter?”

kyle raises his arms in defeat. before leaving the room he takes a glance around what used to be johnnys personal space, where he and him had gotten drunk in the middle of the night countless times during the years. “do as you please, lt.” he sighs.

simon looks at kyle as he quietly shuts the door.

simon sniffles, and a whiff of johnnys aftershave reaches his nostrils. he coughs it out, hoping to get it out of his system, it burns his lungs like smoke and makes him sick.

[milkbreadtoast]

"I quit my job and became the Princess Bride"✨ Have you read this romance novel? 😇

[failing-to-write-again]

Imagine Shu at a club with you

Its sweaty and loud...but at least you're here

Throw back to June (oops) where I promised to do my part of the deal of writing a Boyfriend!Shu at a human party. Reiji's version will be written by @bubblespalacee (no rush at all on this btw take your time) and @fangsforiris replied saying they might join and if they do I cannot wait to read and repost it.

Warnings : alcohol, swearing, DL vampire-ness, mildly suggestive no actual acts just allusions to it

The party was loud you had to admit, the fact you were still here was shocking. Your friends were slowly spreading out at this point in the night, the birthday girl having taken her boyfriend to some private corner promising to message before she leaves. Although with how many vodka blacks she has had it is probably wiser to just keep an eye on the door.

Shu had taken a place at the bar nearby while you danced giving you time to catch up with them. That and the fact that he would likely rather die than dance in the dense mob in the club. That doesn't mean blue eyes weren't following your every move the second you weren't by his side, piercing through any would be flirts getting too close. Whiskey in hand, earphones hanging from his neck he broods as your dark prince was prone to when around large groups. Walking towards him those eyes that once were sharp, soften into a half lidded stare paired with his classic smirk. As you reach him, a hand rising as natural as breathing to rest on your hip pulling you closer.

"You know," you begin, cocking your head as your hand rests over his, "it might be more fun to dance with your girlfriend instead of just staring at her." He lets out an amused snort, shifting his weight to his other foot and pulling you closer.

"Why move when the view is pleasant? Unless you want to grind against me lewd woman." You lightly slap his arm in response, eliciting a proper laugh from the blonde. It didn't last long though, his hands taking to wandering instead. Running up and down your arms slowly. His pupils were wider than normal, the alcohol mixed with your presence intoxicating him. He drops his head to your shoulder, sighing as he places barely there kisses against your collar bone.

"It's so loud in here, why can't they all be quiet and let me enjoy watching you in piece."

"I don't think it would count as a club is people aren't being drunk and rowdy Shu, we can go to the smoking area outside if you'd like."

Shu straightens back to his full height, taking your hand in his and leading the way through the crowd towards the cold night air. As you step outside you shiver, the temperature change catching you off guard. Moments later you feel the jacket you had picked out for Shu drape around your shoulders. The patio was much more sparse compared to the sardine can that was indoors. Yet still busy enough that nobody paid the two of you any mind as you sat against the low wall lining the area. It was raining just past the covering awning, tinging the air with a crisp, fresh smell. A cold hand resting against yours, fingers entwined as you both continued drinking.

While not fully drunk, you were enjoying the slight haze around you. The haze that has you not fully remembering the point where drinking stopped and kissing began, but you were also lucid enough to know you weren't about to stop. Shu, normally more intentional and teasing with his kisses, was instead hungry, barely letting you back away for air chasing your lips with his. The fingers on his left hand teasing just under the fabric of your clothes, while his right tangles in your hair letting him kiss you deeper. Your arms around his neck, twisting into the tighter curls at the nape of his neck. Your neck and his both having little nips and marks that were sure to remain into the next few days, and some new bite marks joined your ongoing collection.

Shu's hands moving to push you back, shockingly onto something soft. You take a moment to look around, realizing you are back in the mansion laying on the soft white sheets of Shu's bed. Your shoes and his on the rack by the stairs leading to his door, and his jacket thrown against the sofa. Shu took this time to approach, un-clipping his mp3 player and letting it drop onto the end of the bed. One knee rising to sit beside yours, his forearm holding his body above yours.

"I think I deserve to have my fun now, seeing as you like to tease so much...lewd woman."

[cinammonelles]

I want to talk about this page in particular because the implications here are so riveting.

Lavi is currently 19. Allen is believed to be 16.

Which means that either

The Bookmen are lying

Bookman Jr. did die then and Allen either didn't age the first few years or his age got fucked up multiple times before he met Mana

The first seems highly improbable at this point tbh. If the Bookmen were planning to make Allen take the poison to make him remember his past then lying about when Past!Junior (presumably) died seems counterintuitive and would only make Allen mistrust them more once he was in full possession of his memories.

It doesn't seem like Allen de-aged to an infant. He says his earliest memories are from when he was in the circus. Even if he did age back to an infant, he would've needed caretakers and nothing in the story suggests he had any.

(Note how little Allen doesn't have his Innocence in the last panel. What the fuck does this mean Hoshino.)

Allen looks perhaps 4-5 in both of these panels. If Past!Junior died over 19 years ago and Allen aged linearly since then, then he would have to be 23+ by now. Even considering the possibility that he aged back to an infant, he he should be 19+ by now and he looks barely over 17.

We can assume that he must've aged in a somewhat even fashion once he joined the circus because otherwise the performers would've commented on it at some point of time.

What happened in the years between Junior dying and little Allen getting into the circus? Was he in a child's body till he acquired his Innocence? How did he even acquire his Innocence in the first place?

There's also a final possibility that came to me while I was writing this post— Lavi was born while Past!Junior was still alive. He was born with the 'mark' because Past!Junior was no longer fit to be a Junior. I genuinely have no idea how Hoshino will explain this. Will it be some sort of corruption? Memory loss? Chronic illness?

All of them seem equally unlikely options at this point. But so did the possibility of Allen and Bookman Jr. being different people before this chapter :)

Either ways, this was a very intriguing chapter and I'm looking forward to whatever Hoshino has in store for us.

[fauustic]

the fear of losing this

too many people in my inbox got a little too comfortable asking me for “a fight between reader” as well as “miguel angst please” so i am combining both as i struggle to get through this writer’s block ))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. little comfort. your universe is falling apart, yet miguel doesn’t want to let you go.

warnings: pure angst. light cursing? i’m not too sure, just lots of tears.

word count: 2211

The night sky of Nueva York shined brightly with the bustle of commute, highly advanced cars whirring softly through the clouds. Your mask hung from your hands at your side, bunched up in the anger that fizzed and popped in your bloodstream– threatening to explode at any given moment as Miguel brushed off your conversation with a stoic chill.

“You don’t understand how important this is to me Miguel–” your voice raised as you paced the highest level of the building, padding against the overly complex structures that mimicked webs. You would have laughed at the irony of having a headquarters so invested in the theme of spiders that even the ground you walk on replicated the symmetry of webs if the both of you were in any other given situation– but that joking persona that came with the gig flew and crashed out the window the moment Miguel brushed off and rejected your plans to return back home. “I need to be there, helping my people. What is the point of me taking up a spot in this ‘fateful–’” You dragged out the words, venom dripping from your tongue as you partially made fun of the organization he spent so much time on. “Spider Society if my own boss doesn’t let me return back to the place I belong in?”

“No, no.” His tone was blunt as he stood as rigid as ever; surveying your every move in a way that you could never guess what he was thinking, with or without the mask. “You don’t understand.” Miguel repeated your own words back to you in a taunt as one of his clawed hands fidgeted with the device that decided whether or not you could walk around or stay in a little bubble for the next week just like all the other prisoners were down below. “You created a problem in your own universe, that’s the problem we’re having here. You cannot fix it.” He practically spat his words, anger emitting from every rhythmic clang whenever he tossed the technology into the air and caught it with calculation. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re from that Earth, you put that place you so valiantly ‘protect’ into a state of emergency. Is that not clear enough?”

“Oh, sure– but the hundreds of other spider-people that can’t go one word without making a joke of the situation can fix my mess? Am I just some inexperienced rookie to you, Miguel?” You countered, ripping your gaze from his own. His features were exposed to you as his mask was off as well, the sunken circles beneath his eyes growing prominent when a vibrant car passed by and shone a striking yellow light into the corridor the two of you stood within. His usual expression made of stone chipped away with the stress he was under as a deeper frown made its way onto his lips.

Miguel sighed dramatically before pinching the bridge of his nose, turning away from you to mumble a jumble of incoherency. “God,” He repeats your name like it's a curse, “That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just not safe.”

You scoffed, eyes growing wide at the audacity of this man you have to call your boss. “Of course it’s not safe Miguel, that’s our job.” You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, pulling at the roots of your hair in any attempt to calm yourself down. “I risked my life every single day in my universe before I even knew of your existence, yet now suddenly I can’t?”

“This is different. For some reason these– these anomalies are running rampant in your world and it’s taking everything to finally have the problem at hand contained.” Miguel held his breath as if he had something more to say, but left it unsaid the moment you stomped closer towards him in a new fit of anger.

You shoved your palm against his chest, baring your teeth as a groan erupted from the back of your throat in a concoction of frustration and despair. “Exactly! That’s exactly the problem, Miguel. My people out there are suffering and fighting for their lives, surrounded by these people that are like me but aren’t me.” Tears began to well up in the corners of your pained gaze, humiliation washing over your consciousness as you sniffled and stifled a sob. Fauxe confidence and quips were something you specialized in, annoying Miguel in a little dynamic the two of you found yourself in as months turned into an entire year of being called in for missions. Emotions were never a thing the both of you have ever discussed with one another because it wasn’t your position to pry and he was never the one to initiate such conversation.

“If you just let me go, I’m more than willing to show you how capable I am.” It came out as a whisper as you turned away from him and began padding down the structural webs. Miguel was on high alert, you could notice as every glance felt as if he was trying to convince himself that no other member of his society occupied this part of Headquarters. He followed you close behind, claws digging into the beams of construction to reach the same floor as you without a word. The brooding silence that usually met your company could be sensed from any person in their right mind, and as you spotted the hesitation in each thud of his footfalls– confusion clouded your anger. So in a flurry of adrenaline, you webbed his next step to the ground with a ball of the substance you artificially produced in the depths of your makeshift and cozy lab, hidden away at your home in the world you desperately needed to save. It would give you time to finally just talk to him.

“¿Eres estúpido o qué? Do that again and I’m putting you in the–”

It wasn’t to hold him down, you know you couldn’t match his strength. It was to make a statement. 

You interrupted him, a newfound determination holding onto the little hope you had. “You follow me for one more second, I’m going through that portal and never looking back.” Brutally honest and uncharacteristically serious, the attempt at ripping his limb free was cut cold at the promise looming in the air. His frown fell for just a moment’s notice, mouth agape in shocked horror before quickly recovering himself. Repeating yourself more clearly as his attention was occupied, your body shined away while shaky fingers struggled to input the coordinates of your universe. But eventually it clicked, the AI voice of Miguel’s beloved Lyla sounded throughout the tension in a glitchy mess– notifying Miguel of the portal to-be seconds before it truly distorted the fabrication of reality in front of you.

Miguel dropped to his knees, struggling to claw off the web that had his foot planted to the structure. His breath quickened concerningly, shoulders heaving as the plan of his crumbled in front of him in an instant; all because he was not observant enough. You played him like an instrument like you always had, a pained groan from the back of his throat sounded and echoed throughout the space of the vast headquarters. “No, no, no..” He repeated, mirroring the despair you had on your features moments ago at the idea of not being able to save your people. You could never once recollect a fraction of a second where he allowed himself to convey the pain plaguing his mind, and as he reached out to you in a frantic heap of limbs– the walls of protection he hazardously built around himself came crumbling down by each shape contorting and twisting into a gateway to your world. “I can’t, I can’t lose anybody else–”

You stood there, heart breaking as the man who has had villains three times your size on their knees, collapse into fragments of himself at the mere idea of you leaving the security of his universe. Bursts of color painted the dark hues blotching upon white, igniting his fresh-tear stained cheeks in splashes of reds and yellows and greens. The portal was completely open, awaiting your entrance to return back to your familiarity– yet your senses buzzed alarmingly at each step away from Miguel. It’s almost as if you could feel the hole in his chest, searing away his soul he finally allowed himself to offer like a god’s offering.

You fell to your knees to hold his face in your suited hands, the waves of sorrow and grief infesting your mind like a sickness almost had you doubling over in pain. You could hear the cries of hundreds around his, no– your own heavy breathing, a confused and fearful little girl’s pleas for help overlapping the muddled screams. You felt the weight of a child in your hands before it was ripped away like a paper airplane in the wind, and soon your trembling hands met the purchase of his nape. Your body moved automatically, holding his face in the comfort of your lap while you shielded his gaze from the portal. Despite his power, the capability to snap you in two, you held him like a fragile doll that would break within any mishap.

“All this time, you never told me.” You sobbed into his hair, dampening his combed back curls with your tears and he only held your waist like you were the anchor in this unforgiving ocean of anguish. You have become one, the memories of his own mixing into the blur of yours's.

“I didn’t know how to.” He murmured into the purchase of your thigh, wetness seeping into your suit. But you didn’t care as your hands wandered all over his figure: a soft massage to the shoulders before quickly scooping his neck into your arms before finally settling on petting his hair back. “I, I haven’t allowed you to go to your world because a part of my thoughts can imagine your arms fading into a technicolor mess, falling into the clutches of another failed universe.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, gulping up air as the portal behind the both of you fizzled and popped.

“I can’t lose you too. I’d be so–” He hesitated, breathing in deeply just to choke on a sob. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He poured out the burdens weighing on his conscience, confirming your long-forgotten wonder that he was just as emotional when he was faced with his grief head-on; the same intensity seen in his short-tempered anger.

You simply hushed him, cooing reassurance that he accepted with greed. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” The rational fear being expressed aloud made your shoulders shake and head buzz with anxiety, but you steeled yourself at the reminder of Miguel melting into your tearful embrace like putty. You needed to be strong for him when he wasn’t, just like how he pushed himself to the greatest extent his body can endure all the times before. 

“It’s just, I can’t lose where I come from.” You worked at ridding his foot from your webs as your serene tone accompanied his sniffles, his breathing settling out bit by bit as you continued to finally explain yourself. In regards to Miguel's quietness, you genuinely thought he was listening. “You can’t keep me away and shield me from my own mistakes, O’Hara. It’s just not possible, I need a home to thrive and protect. Without my people, I’m going to disappear as well.” A snap of your webs trapping his limbs finished your little speech, indicating that time was up and you had a job to do.

“I’m.. worried.” He mumbles aloud, like the sentence itself was foreign on his tongue. “These creatures from foreign worlds, they are drawn to your universe as if there’s a pulling force. I haven’t been able to figure it out. It’s so infuriating, it’s like I can’t do–”

You intercept his little tangent as you grab his chin and lift his gaze to meet yours’, an unsaid question hanging into the atmosphere like an old letter to a former self. Do you want this? Is this okay? I’m scared of messing this up.

The question is answered as Miguel’s grasp finds purchase in your flesh, claws digging into your thighs like if he let you go you’d fade along with everything else of his. In a messy, salty clash of teeth against fangs and tongue against lips, Miguel lapped up every inch of your mouth like he had to memorize every crevice of your entire being. It’s as if the two of you have synchronized, being able to suspect slight changes in each other’s mood as he grew more needy with the introduction of desire bubbling against the forefront of your mind.

“We can do this.” You murmured into his cheek, hands dancing over his suit in case this was the last time you’d ever be blessed with his presence again.

Miguel nodded, heaving for breath before he snatched one last kiss– sincere and genuine and full of unfiltered affection. “Yeah,” His nose met the crook of your neck, grazing each curve it stumbled upon.

“Together, mi alma.”