#just a little bit of spice

[ofdraiocht]

@yeonban​ // 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 👀. && morning after starters [ BARE ]: as naoe (tries to) get dressed, naotora gently places a soft, tender kiss against his bare shoulder  &  13. for naotora to distract naoe from getting ready by kissing/groping him. there is plenty of time left until their day has to properly start (an asset borne out of them both being early risers even by early riser standards) and naotora seems to have a very clear preference for what he thinks they should be doing with it, in blatant opposition to naoe's own plans of leaving the warmth of their shared bed behind.

Naoe knows he’s not going to be getting out of bed any time soon. He’d learned that very early on in their relationship when they started to share their nights together, especially after they’d started being more intimate. He’s turned it into an amusing little game, seeing how far he could get in trying to get out of bed before Naotora pulled him back in. He never got very far and that morning was no different, except Naotora was exceptionally more handsy that morning. 

He gives it one more playful little attempt before he feigns defeat, falling back into Naotora’s kisses and wandering hands with a content sigh. 

“Someone’s rather insatiable this morning.” He teases, pulling his lover closer to return some of those kisses. “I’m sure we can be a little late and we won’t be missed--” 

Explaining to his vassals or his Lord exactly why they were late was a problem for future him, deciding instead to indulge.

[tanglepelt]

Dpxdc 177

Danny and Damian are twins. Danny was killed by Damian obviously. The normal only one heir business.

When he was put into the pit. Either by a guilt ridden Damian or Talia late in the night. He vanished. Natural portal whipped him away. Right in the path of Jack and Maddie. They adopt the little 8 year old who has no memories of his past.

Normal stuff happens. Danny dies a second time becomes a halfa and befriends cujo.

Now cujo loves Danny and loves to visit him. Too bad cujo gets Damian confused with Danny. But hey. He had two people now. Double the pets.

One day Danny is playing with cujo and cujo unannounced decides his ppl need to meet.

Danny was clearly confused. First where is he? Cujo that was completely naughty behavior. Then there was a dude staring at him. A doppelgänger? Another clone? Like this dude looked nearly identical to him besides the eyes.

Now Damian. Damian recognizes Danny right away. Now he likely thinks this is a clone or something.

[milktea-grn]

hair gel things

[becca-e-barnes]

Before I go back to writing requests again, I'm fully obsessed with 'Too Sweet' by Hozier and I just need to talk about it 🤤

Like dbf!Bucky laying you down on your bed, maybe in a little bit of a hurry before your parents get home.

"You're too sweet for me." Even as he's saying it, he's tugging your dress up, kissing up the insides of your bare thighs, letting you enjoy the gentle scratch of a couple of days of beard growth.

You pull your dress off the rest of the way, lying on your bed in only your underwear and it forces him to take a second that he really doesn't have to pause and just admire you.

"Far too sweet for me." He confirms, drinking in the sight of you. All those soft curves and kissable expanses of bare skin weigh on him because with so little time, where is he supposed to start? It's not fair to rush this but it's not like either of you would benefit from getting caught.

The way he looks at you gives you a confidence you've found you really benefit from.

"Maybe I'm not too sweet." You can't stop yourself, letting your hand trail from your breasts to the elastic band of your panties, sliding under the thin material.

Your fingers stray towards your clit, the tip of your middle finger circling the little bundle of nerves, very aware that you've got such a keen audience. Fuck, you're so wet already. You can't help it when he kisses the way he does; like he fucking needs you.

"Maybe I'll do all the naughty things you've ever dreamed of and then some. Maybe I'll be the one to ruin you." You're almost convincing yourself with this and it's thrilling to watch him squirm, his dick twitching in the confines of his jeans.

"I'd like you to." He hadn't given that a whole lot of thought until now. Up until this point, you were the sweet young woman who was entirely too wholesome to get tangled up with him.

That all changes quite quickly. It's hard not to when you remove the hand from your panties, trailing your arousal soaked fingertip along his bottom lip, keen to see how long it would take him to engulf it with his eager mouth. Not long at all, it appears.

[littlebigmouse]

No you don't understand. Reigen does not commit tax fraud or insurance fraud. He doesn't actually have psychic powers, not even a little, or empath powers or what you have it. His family are regular ass people with regular ass jobs and frankly, so is Arataka, a young, self-employed guy living pay-check to pay-check because that's what most people starting out self-employed do. He spends most of the day at work and then gets take-out not because he's bringing college-student energy to the table, but because that's what the average single and fresh member of the japanese work force does. Because holding on to friends at that age is hard enough without existential-crisis-induced self-loathing.

It is so, so important to me that Reigen is the most statistically average twenty something japanese man there is. He's literally just a guy. A perfectly average middle schooler who liked to slack off and forgot his lunch that one time and wanted to be someone one day, when he was filled with youthful optimism, before life got complicated, before he realized he was just another fish in a really, really big ocean with a LOT of other fishes. One perfectly average fish among thousands of other, average fishes that become perfectly average members of society.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I don’t know how long we’re wrapped in each other’s arms before we’re forced apart as an overzealous dancer bumps into us, causing us to stumble sideways.

I barely regain my balance before Ash grabs my hand and pulls me away, leading me through the maze of people. They’re nothing but a blur as we wind our way off the dance floor where there’s finally some open space to breathe. I think he’s going to stop once we get there, but he continues forward. The only thing ahead of us now is a hallway with the bathrooms on the right and stairs on the left. Just as I’m about to ask him where he’s taking us, he stops short and slides into a dark corner.

As he backs himself against the wall, pulling me into him, I finally understand. “Is this okay?” He asks.

I lean in so fast that I practically breathe the answer into his mouth, “Yeah,” and before I know it, we’re making out again. But this time is far more intense, our kisses deeper, our breathing ragged, our hands grabbing fistfuls of hair and clothing and clawing at skin as though our desire for each other has grown into some kind of wild animal. Finally free from its cage, there’s no going back now.

I pin him against the wall and press my thigh between his legs, and he makes a sound that I feel more than hear with his mouth on my neck. And then I feel his hand move down the front of my jeans. I’m grateful for how loud the club is when he finds what he’s looking for and an uncontrolled moan escapes my lips. He grips me and breathes into my ear, “Atlas.”

Fuck, there is nothing sexier than the way he says my name.

I can barely think, let alone speak. All I can manage is, “Hm?” and even that comes out as more of a whimper than a question.

“Let’s go somewhere.”

I put my hand up on the wall behind him to steady myself and somehow find it in me to ask, “Where?”

“Anywhere. My place, yours, I really don’t care, but if we stay here, we’re bound to get kicked out.” He moves his hand slowly over the bulge in my jeans and kisses my ear softly. The wet sound of his lips is amplified and sends a shiver down my spine. “Do you wanna leave with me?”

More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

I nod as I clear my throat and try to will my brain to start functioning again. “I, um, my apartment. It’s three blocks away.” Or maybe it’s six. I don’t know. All I know is, Dawn better not be home tonight.

“Perfect.” He kisses me and moves both hands to my waist, “Let me check in with Lex real quick and then we can go.” I step back to make room for him to squeeze by. He looks up at me with a smirk, biting his lip, and winks at me before saying, “I’ll be right back,” and walking away.

It’s been a while since he’s winked at me, but for the first time I don’t blush. I assume my blood is otherwise occupied and not available to flush my face. Speaking of which, I need to take a moment, so I lean against the wall and pull out my phone. I start typing out a text to Dawn asking if she’ll be home tonight, but then delete it before sending, realizing I’ll have to explain why I’m asking, and I’m not prepared to do that. So, I slide the phone back in my pocket and hope for the best.

I take a few deep breaths and wipe the sweat from my face, suddenly realizing how dehydrated I feel. As soon as I’m able, I walk over to the water station set up in the back of the club.

The relief of the cool liquid as it hits the back of my throat is instant, and I drink three full cups before Ash finds me. I hand him one as soon as he walks up.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully, and drinks it down quick. As he refills the cup he says, “Lex is good. They’re all staying at Blair’s tonight.”

I suddenly remember the promise I made to her when we first arrived, and I almost feel a little guilty. “Did you tell her we’re leaving together?”

“Yeah.”

“Was she okay with that?”

He shrugs, “Not really her decision, is it?”

“I suppose not. You wanna go?”

“Definitely.”

Prev // Next

[hawnks]

A werewolf knight promised a bride in return for his unflinching loyalty and unmatched battle prowess.

His Jarl thinks the most beautiful, talented, and wellbred Lady of the island will suit nicely as his gift.

But the wolf has already made his choice -- he'd made it long before he ever went to war. Everything he did, every terrible, horrible, deadly thing, he did it for her.

And since he was promised a bride, well. Who can stop him? It's his due, after all.

[honnlemm]

Just added a bit of color into his dark and broody life

He needs a bit spice and color in his life man

Void is very beautiful as always

[finch1pinch]

started rewatching trollhunters out of a need of familiarity when everything in my life is new and bad and hard (college.) and now ive redesigned Claire to make her more of a alternative theater kid with the anger issues that they only hint at in the show

ive given her more of a personality than the #Feminist Only Female character in the group ur welcome lol

[chrisrin]

big fan of the idea that god tier outfits are affected by your aspect more than just changing the color palette. just the little details.

[batsplat]

pecco rant please please

*spins wheel on possible topics* absurdly underrated but in a dumb way. you'd think you can stumble your way into two premier class titles. I don't care he's on the best bike - let's be honest, how often this century have the title winners not been on the best bike? 2004 and to a lesser extent 2005 you can say clearly weaker bike, 2007 late 2010s 2021 there's a clear enough disparity with anyone else riding the bike that you can say clearly the rider is making the difference/it's an unrideable wreck one guy is making respectable, then there's a few seasons where it's at least very close whose machinery is best or they're fighting with people on equal equipment, which pecco has done! but generally speaking, good/promising riders end up on good bikes and then they win. that's how the game works!

the thing about 2022 is that it had such a massive mid-season swing that overhauling a ninety something point margin cannot come down to any single factor. is it fair to say fabio lost that title? on balance, it's a bit harsh - yes, there were a few too many errors post-sachsenring, yes, some were driven by desperation, but also you can't really expect anyone to ride a flawless season. but pecco did win that title as much as yamaha lost it. I don't care if you're riding a literal rocketship with two wheels, you can't win four races in a row if you're not extremely good at what you do! if we're saying that title was worth less because the yamaha turned to shit in the second half of the season, then let's keep going. let's put an asterisk next to 2013 because jorge and dani both got injured (let's not even get into the 'if marc hadn't been injured' asterisks because that's where you get into truly silly territory). is 2006 not a legit title because of all the bad luck valentino faced that year? let's say all titles between 2007 to 2015 were worth less because at any one time only 4-6 bikes had a realistic chance of winning races. throw out any title before 2009 because they were constantly fucking about with the tyres and there wasn't a level playing field. if you're motivated enough, you can play this game with basically anything, but it's dumb and pointless because that's not how sports works! you can only win against whoever you're facing. it has always been thus and it will always be thus

it's narratively fun and juicy that pecco has these insecurities himself - but within the context of everyone else doing discourse over it, the whole thing is massively overblown! linked to some of the worst sports discourse about how much people love to disparage late bloomers, because they need every single successful athlete to fit the same mould of the ultra-talented wunderkind, apparently. it's more interesting when it's not always the most 'talented' (whatever tf that means), naturally gifted, *fast the second he touches a bike* bloke who wins. sometimes they have to work hard for it, sometimes they have to improve themselves year on year and be smart about how they do it, sometimes they have to be in the right place and right time, sometimes they have to be very lucky. sports is all about competition, and competition is all about contrast. it's a contrast that can be generated in a whole lot of ways, and in fairness to motogp they have come up with a bunch of interesting narratively tense contests that don't rely on a massive fundamental 'talent' differential - but at the end of the day, that's one of the best ones you can have! the more ways you can have to win in any given sport, the better, both in the literal sense of how you go about the actual process of winning and how you even become a winner. none of this means that pecco isn't very very good, it means he got there in a different way than every other multiple champ this century has. it fundamentally flattens the sport if you want every top-level competitor to be an alien-level talent... one of the best things about this current era is that it has given us something new and exciting in that regard, where you well and truly believe some very different blokes might have what it takes to eventually be champion

anyway, pecco is absurdly adept at digging himself into holes and absurdly adept at digging himself out of them. he's one of the worst frontrunners imaginable in every sense, biologically incapable of dominating without at least a perpetual hint of jeopardy, both in the context of a race and a season. but when his back is against the wall, somehow he keeps finding performances you never imagined he was capable of. his mixed up and slightly odd skillset, his strengths and weaknesses, how he's better and worse than he has any right to be... all of it lends itself to perpetual momentum shifts and thrilling seasons - because you never quite know what you're going to get. love him or hate him, he's a gift to the overall competitive landscape! god knows the racing hasn't been much to write home about these last few years (though, yes, we did have a good little run this season), but somehow he's managed to get himself involved in two out of the six title deciders this century back-to-back. is that not the dream for the viewer, to have a bloke at the top of the sport with a little self-combust chip in his head every time he builds too much of an advantage? build a hundred of those guys! throw a marc marquez at him and see what he does! I can't wait to see what he'll come up with next

[inquisimer]

wip wednesday

been a HOT minute since I did one of these, but my brain is spinning with [redacted] number of Veilguard fics, so I'm back with a vengeance, and a snippet from my beefed up Ossuary reunion for Arlow & Lucanis >:] I just think he should have been a little more fucked up about it all, tbh

tagging forward to @crabs-with-sticks | @shivunin | @dreadfutures | @queenaeducan | and @rosella-writes!

He was thinner and gaunter, cheeks sunken around the unkempt beard. Grime and sweat clung to his skin and she did not need to see beneath his ragged robes to know that he had as many new scars as he did split ends. A flash of anger briefly interrupted her relief, but underneath the toll this last year had taken were the familiar dips and planes of her best friend. “It’s really you,” she said, slipping into Antivan as she ran her hands up and down his arms. The moment was tenuous and she feared that if she stopped touching him, he would disappear back into grief-stricken memory. “You’re here, you’re here, and you’re alive.” For all the joy rushing through her, that edge of wariness hadn’t left his face. It clung to his furrowed brow and the longer it did, the faster Arlow’s smile faded into trepidation. “Arlow,” he murmured again, then closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “I want to believe you are real, and if you are, I’m sorry, but I cannot be sure unless—“ A splitting pain burst through Arlow’s head as Lucanis smashed his brow into hers. She released him and stumbled back, hand catching at her temple. Stars danced across her vision and she swallowed bile that rose in her throat—it had not been that long since Solas’ ritual, and her head did not take so well to another impact so soon. The blow reverberated through her skull; dimly, she registered the crackle of the Fade at her back as the blurred shadow of Lucanis stalked forward. “Hey!” A wall of ice sprayed between the two Crows, stopping Lucanis in his tracks. He stared at Neve over Arlow’s shoulder. “I don’t know you,” he said. “You’re about to, if you don’t back off.” A featherlight touch brushed the back of Arlow’s neck and a surge of healing rolled through her. “You good, Rook?” “Fine,” she ground out, pushing back to her feet with a glare. “What the fuck, Lucanis?” He was still staring at Neve, mouth slightly parted. The wariness had vanished, replaced by confusion. If she didn’t know the exact move he’d used, Arlow might have thought he dazed himself in his attack. “I don’t know you,” he repeated, “which means that she could not have plucked out out of my memories, which means that you—“ His eyes flicked to Arlow, and she recognized them immediately. They looked exactly the way hers had since they left the Diamond. Hopeful, and utterly afraid of that hope. “You’re real,” he whispered. “You’re really here. Arlow—“ He staggered forward and Neve raised her staff, but Arlow held up a hand. “Let him through, Neve.” “Rook—“ “Dispel it, or I’ll do it for you.” “Fine, but if you die I’m taking you to Nevarra, because I will not be the one explaining it to Lace.”

[suusoh]

I just think nina would be soooooo complicit in johan's yandere tendencies with his darling. She'd be so worried, but at the same time, this is the closest she ever got of her brother finally making a friend, much less having a freaking crush on someone, after pleading and forcing him to try to form connections with people and to do something for himself in his life. So not only is she letting it slide, but she's lowkey encouraging it as well, softly making you turn a blind eye as she comforts you, and tries to suggest you just brush off his behaviour for now... he just cares about you— a lot! And that's really rare for him! So... how about... how about you don't worry about that for now, and just... just try to understand that he really likes you, okay? She's sure his talks of making you move in with him so early is just... the kind of cute boyfriend talk when they're enamored? It's just his way of showing how much he wants you around... there, there, he really just likes you.

[becca-e-barnes]

Can i request something where bucky has a smutty obsession with sundresses? Just the way his doll looks in them and stuff?

I've definitely written Bucky loving sundresses before but now that there's a bit of a chill in the air, I'm imagining the same sundresses but with tights underneath 😏

Having the tights keeps you a little bit warmer but it doesn't give Bucky the access he's used to. The tights are such a tease because he knows how flimsy they are but they're in the way of what he wants and that would never do.

He does love the feeling of them though. The thin material is so smooth under his fingertips, there's an attractive sheen to them and he finds he can't take his eyes off your legs, right at the hem of your dress.

"Sweetheart." Bucky's voice is firm and it makes you smile to yourself. "Come here."

He's sitting by the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and you know that he's been watching you since you came down to make your breakfast.

You peck his lips softly when you reach him, enjoying the way a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Everything okay?" You ask, letting him press his knee between your thighs, spreading your legs.

His hands land on your legs out of instinct. The silky smooth feeling does something for him that he didn't quite expect and for a second, touching you over the fabric feels just as intimate as touching your bare skin.

"I like these." Bucky teases, squeezing your ass, making you roll slightly against his thigh.

"I'm glad you like them. You need to be gentle though, you'll rip them."

That wasn't even something he'd considered but now it's all he can think about. Those perfect tights, totally ruined, your panties pushed out of the way so there's nothing between your body and his fingers.

"You've never really liked it when I'm too gentle." He reminds you and you can't help but giggle because he's right and you know it. "What if... I just ripped a hole. Right here. Between your legs." His fingers tap the apex of your thighs, through your tights and underwear and your only option is to grind down on his thigh just a little harder.

"That would ruin them." You rock your hips back and forth, enjoying the friction against his insanely muscular thigh, letting your own need build.

"I don't think so. I think it might make them better. You know I like those pretty dresses you wear. Putting that flimsy fabric in the way is just a tease." Both of his hands meet under your skirt, testing the resistance of the material when he tugs in different directions.

"Rip them." You whisper, half pleading.

He huffs out a quiet laugh, pulling harder and you feel the fabric give the whole way across with little ladders beginning to run down the legs.

"Bend over. Let me see." You do as you're told, standing up, pulling the skirt of your dress up to expose your clothed sex to him.

It's not clothed for long though, he widens the hole just a little, slipping your panties to the side to allow him to sink a finger into your wet, eager, inviting cunt, quickly followed by a second.

"Pretty little hole to fuck you through." He muses, watching you try to resist the urge to fuck yourself on his fingers, getting more and more desperate for his cock.

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

I don’t think Eddie’s fragile midwestern sensibilities could handle the Tajin/Chamoy combination on a mango. Like I think it genuinely might end him if Latino reader gave it to him.

Like to be honest, I don’t even think he could handle the red sauce from a Taco Bell.

[acertifiedwitch]

I love it when Merlin fan-media represents Merlin’s Magic as a conscious being that can interact with him it’s so hilarious