#listen its alright to not like her

[spacebunniesmha]

“Ochako wants to be a hero for money, She's selfish!” wanting to be a hero to make money so that your parents can have an easy life is selfish??

Also let's not forget she does want to save people; It's not just for the money. Ochakos trying to save people's hearts just like midoriya, just look at chapters 392-395.

[animentality]

a beta reader left a comment on my manuscript that was basically:

"this story is a waste of my time."

and it's like....

i have thick skin and all, since i've been working with beta readers for a long time, but...

ouch.

thanks, i guess. helpful.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Ok, this is mostly bc I realized we've only seen Sally being passive, but how is she able to hypothetically rip apart larger puppets limb from limb? (if the captions with Howdy hold water with other puppets)

(Slight Mutilation Warning Ahead: Puppet Edition)

they absolutely hold So Much water! it's a combination of a couple things!

a) Nightlight!Sally is really Strong. i'd liken to her to a chimp, as much as i hate them. despite being smaller than people, they're absurdly powerful. when it comes to Her, this comes from a mix of hysterical strength and something Else i've been pondering but don't want to solidify yet, so shh dont worry bout it. it's also much easier to tear fleece & cotton/stuffing than, uh, Biological materials.

b) none of the puppets are really prepared for violence? they've lived in an idyllic world where true, visceral violence likely hasn't even been a Thought in anyone's minds. like, you watch videos of people get attacked by like... raccoons or rats and they visibly Lose because they panic! they aren't prepared! they don't wanna fight! so the much smaller creature wins. They Don't Know How To Fight, Or Fight Back.

b.1) also, Nightlight!Sally is still... Sally. she's still their dear friend. i know that if a close friend attacked me, i'm not sure i'd be able to bring myself to do much other than defend/flee. i wouldn't wanna hurt them even if it meant protecting myself. hence why Wally avoids all confrontation with her & can't protect his friends from her. he can't hurt his neighbor.

b.2) there's also the shock factor. imagine you wake up from a pleasant dream to an absolute nightmare reality. Boom, automatically thrown way off your rhythm. then one of your close buddies looks Fuckin Weird, Are You Okay? and other crazy shit is happening! you're freaking out!! then your Close Friend Who's Off is suddenly slashing at you and BOOM, your arm's gone & your entire brain is scrambled from shock and fear and "?!?!?!?!?!". plus, i doubt the puppets know they're full of stuffing. seeing yourself sliced open and white fluff spilling out has gotta be just. so Unpleasant on principle.

c):

CLAWS BABEY! RIP TEAR AND SHRED! those sharp grippers are perfect for piercing and ripping! puppet fleece is Paper to her!

her fighting method is attack wildly until the threat stops making noise! it's very hard to defend oneself from it! imagine those cartoon bits where a cat attacks someone and its just a Flurry of Unbeatable Violence

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

it's as done as im going to make it tbh. inconsistent, not perfect, but done :)

i'd say "sorry about this" but if i found a silly three minute wizards city fan animatic id lose my mind so im not sorry in the least

[mirainotes]

you don't want to know the end of this dream, because it's not the world you wish for; yet still, i wish you'd love even this conclusion.

(redraw of the dreamless dreams PV!)

[aelswiths]

SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

she feels so betrayed that she's looking at him with the most devastating and heartbroken expression. there are literal tears in her eyes. she has just walked in on the most emotionally devastating situation because its just proof that no matter what alfred will always trust uhtred and never trust her in the same way and I am sobbing and dying and SCREAM

[spock-adoodledoo]

oh my god i just finished the dark forest finally. 7/10 i suppose, i went through the first half or so of the book being really annoyed by luo ji but also enjoying the chapters where he shows up because unfortunately he was entertaining. still don't understand the imaginary girlfriend thing, it just feels like he needs someone to protect from the world which like ??? ok sure i guess, it just rubs me the wrong way personally. for the second half and especially the end i became luo ji's number one defender it's fine. for the rest, holy crap—the droplet, the microcosm of the universe on those runaway ships, the wallfacer project, luo ji drawing from rey diaz's plan, the attitude of the world towards him, the entire theory... wow

[trenchcrows]

making my psych presentation that is due in 1.5 hours but. tumbgler

[widevibratobitch]

moments like this when im really glad im a sad little cynic who always considers the worst possible outcome and never lets herself truly get comfortable and trust the good things in her life to stay there and builds her life around trying to soften the blows of the eventual disappointments just waiting around the corner lol never leaving my edgy teenager era peace and love

[ymawgat]

i'm re-listening to welcome to nightvale and "the faceless old woman who lives in your home" his very different now that my grandma is dead years after i first listened to it

[hqmillioncorn]

FFXIVWrite Day five: Barbarous

with @windupnamazu 's Butter

Babycorn looked down at the plate of cookies Butter was holding in front of her. Of course she still had her suspicions but a cookie was a cookie. She took one bite of one of the sugar cookies and her eyes instantly lit up. "Woah! These are way tastier than tree bark!!" Which was a very strange thing to say all things considered. "I know right?!" Butter agreed.

Under the night sky of Ul’dah a small, little lalafell rubbed singed strands of hair between her fingers. Without a word she let them fall down to the ground in a flutter. 

Babycorn moved the hairs around on the ground, trying in vain to see if she could form some sort of recognizable shape with them. Eventually she figured that it was a lost cause and decided that blowing them away would be funner. 

And it was! She and Cherry watched as they flew away in a dash in front of them. Babycorn never knew that hair could move so fast.

“Byebye!” Cherrypit waved to the dirt and hair that had been blown away.

Babycorn remained silent, her hand hovered over the back of her head. With a shaky hand she touched the part of her hair she had carelessly chopped off. There wasn’t really a need to cut it off. Besides the obvious fact that most of it had been almost burnt off by someone. 

The memory of the whole thing was hazy. Even if it had just happened a few hours ago. Babycorn could only remember a bunch of people shaped shapes and a warm feeling behind her. But it wasn’t the good kind of warm, not like how it felt to be hugged by her mama and papa. 

It was scary.

Scary-

“Bebe! Bebe!” 

“Huh?” 

Cherrypit had called out to her. Babycorn had practically trained herself to respond to anything Cherrypit said in record time. It did not take her long to walk over to her brother’s side, besides his designated play area. It was full of chalk drawings and various other smaller toys that he and Babycorn had managed to steal over the years.

She looked down and noticed he had grabbed a piece of chalk and had gotten to work in drawing another one of his scribbles. Most of them didn’t make a lot of sense to Babycorn. Like, what was up with the drawing of this weird pink-haired girl about? But, that didn’t really matter. They were still the prettiest things ever to her. 

As she silently watched Cherrypit draw, a glimmer from the corner of her eye caught her attention.

It was the knife she had used to cut her hair. It was still here. 

Babycorn told Cherry she would “Be right back.” and walked over to pick the knife up from the ground. Knives were used to hurt people, she knew this by now. That meant that the person who had thrown this knife at her wanted to hurt her. 

Thankfully they had just missed but it still scared her. 

She also didn’t remember picking the knife up and taking it with her. But she guessed it was a good thing she did, since it helped with cutting off some of her singed hair. Babycorn turned the knife to the side and caught a peek at her own reflection. “Hello.” she gave herself a little wave. 

Her reflection showed her just how much of her hair she had cut off. One side was different from the other. Babycorn set the knife down and sat down on the ground. She grabbed the side of her hair that had escaped being burnt. 

Her mama always said that her hair was soft, like…like…

…She couldn’t quite remember anymore. 

It was very well known around the mansion by now that it was better off to leave Babycorn alone to her own devices. 

Between biting hands and hissing at others she made it very hard, both physically and emotionally for anyone to get close to her. If there was anyone that could be described as both an immovable wall and an unstoppable object all at the same time, it was Babycorn. That wall and object also had the tendency to scratch and bite.

So Butter had heard. 

But surely someone so nice to their younger sibling couldn’t be all that bad. He had seen it himself. Instances where Babycorn would drop everything she was doing to do something for Cherrypit or listen to him intently as he babbled to her. 

There was even one time after he had let Pancake do his hair that he noticed Babycorn walking down the hall with Cherrypit right behind her. Her own hair was almost a mirror of his, a mess of pigtails and barrettes. The culprit was obvious, it had to be Cherrypit, who was holding a hairbrush in his oversized sleeves.

Babycorn’s whole faced had turned a shade of pink and she turned away as she quickened her pace to anywhere but where Butter was. 

He could still remember the look on her face. Though not for any reason or anything.

That morning Butter had decided he would cook something for her. From his brief conversations with her and all the times Babycorn had been early for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, eating was one of her favorite things to do. It made sense, Pancake always did say the way to a girl’s heart was through her tummy.  

Or it was something like that. Butter guessed she must have heard it from someone else. He wasn’t really thinking about it at the time, he was thinking about how pretty Babycorn’s eyes looked during the sunset the day before. Of course, for completely normal reasons.

As Butter made his way downstairs he noticed that someone had been here just before him. Whoever this certain someone had not bothered to wipe their feet down after coming in from outside, as they tracked mud all over the floor of the basement. “I should clean this place up before I start cooking!” It would be the nice thing to do! Butter didn’t want anyone to slip on any of this mud and it’s not like he minded doing a little bit of cleaning or anything.

That’s what he was here for after all! 

As Butter carefully maneuvered around the mud, he made his way into the kitchen to where he knew the bucket and mop would be. 

Just as he was about to head into the designated break room, someone caught his eye. He wasn’t alone. 

There was no mistaking that yellow bonbon anywhere. 

Babycorn was in the kitchen with him, so it could have been her and Cherry who had tracked the mud in before he got here. ‘I guess that would explain the smaller footprints. And the handprints.’ Butter thought to himself, it was all adding up.

Butter figured he should say hi to her before he started cleaning but as soon as he even thought about doing that-his heart started beating faster and faster. It was clear to even him that he was nervous. His face was warm and he was sure that if Cinnamon was here she would say something like, “Your face looks almost as red as my wings!!” or something like that. 

The sound of metal being moved around caught Butter’s attention. He looked up to see Babycorn rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, like she was looking for something. It was honestly a little hard to tell. It was times like these that Butter wished he was just a little taller. 

“Bebe?” Cherrypit’s voice came in. 

‘There he is!’ His suspicions were right. Cherry was just too short for Butter to see from where he was standing. It made sense, after all, he and Babycorn were rarely ever seen apart. Butter couldn’t really think of any instances where he had seen them apart. It was almost like they were glued to each other’s side. Much like Pancake and him. 

At that moment Butter noticed something in Babycorn’s hands. A large butcher’s knife. 

“Oh wow!” 

Butter’s exclamation caught Babycorn’s attention as she quickly turned around in Butter’s direction, knife held firmly in her hand, she was unsure what to do with it. 

Meanwhile, Butter was all smiles. “Are you going to cook something? I can help if you want to!” He wasn’t entirely sure if he could cook whatever it was Babycorn was planning to make but he could learn on the spot for sure!

“I…” Babycorn wasn’t sure what to do as Butter began walking closer to her. She was still kind of hungry, even after eating breakfast but that wasn’t what she was in the kitchen to do. 

Babycorn looked down at Cherrypit, who was happily waving his sleeves around. “Butts! Butts!” He was really happy to see one of his friends here. He was always happy to see anyone. 

The knife was still in Babycorn's hands, she looked down at the right angle to catch her own reflection looking back at her. Her hair was uneven, looking no different than the hundreds of other times she had looked at it. A pair of ugly green eyes looked back at her. 

It made her mad just looking at it all.

Babycorn snapped her head up at Butter. “Can I help you?!” Her yelling caused Butter to stop mid-step. 

“Um…” Butter tapped the ends of his fingers together, “I was hoping I would be able to help you! With whatever you’re doing!” He smiled at her. His bright smile only helped in fueling the fires of Babycorn’s anger. 

“Well I’m not doing anything! And I don’t need your help with anything either!” Babycorn slammed the butcher's knife back into the drawer that she had taken it from. She had hoped that doing that would be enough to convince Butter to leave her alone but instead he was still standing there, smiling at her.

“If that’s the case…” Butter grabbed an oven mitt from the wall and put them on his hands, even Babycorn could tell they were too big for him. “I was gonna bake some cookies if you wanted to help with that! They’re going to be sugar cookies! They’re me and Pancakes favorites!!” 

“Ugh!” Babycorn rolled her eyes and pushed her way past Butter, she fought back against the urge to apologize for bumping into him. Why should she apologize anyway? He was the one bothering her!

“Sorry about that! I didn’t mean to bump you!” Butter apologized. 

Babycorn paused. “It’s ok.” She answered, turning his back to him she began to walk away from him as quickly as she could. Cherrypit trailed behind her. He gave his friend Butts a quick wave goodbye. “Bye! Bye!”

Just as Babycorn thought she was finally safe she heard Butter call out to her again.

“Your hair looks really nice today by the way!!” 

Babycorn froze in place. And so did Butter. 

Butter sank down closer to the floor of the kitchen clutching his head in embarrassment. “Whyyy did I say that……” He whispered to himself. It had just come out! He meant every word of it but he meant to just think it! Not say it!

Babycorn grabbed the back of her hair. It felt like the sharp parts of straw even after all these years. For a second she felt her heart have a steady beat. Then she bolted out of that kitchen so fast that even Cherrypit had trouble keeping up with her. 

There was only one clear explanation for all of this.

That Butts guy must be crazy. 

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

do you ever look at a character you've created and think

oh. the world is going to twist you in terrible ways. they're going to do the thing to you that you very vocally hate.

like i am already tired of reminding a non existent audience of central fact about this man.

[dirt-str1der]

Literally transfem characters are five from umprella academy and majima from yakuza and tricky from madness combat

[autumnoakes]

the people in my life who think everyone should eat healthy and that any """junk""" food is disgusting, not worth eating, will destroy your body everytime you even look at it, etc. vs me who just wants food i'll eat honestly

[lalunanymph]

KITTEN, BEHAVE ☆

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ there are consequences to teasing your biker boyfriend...

⋆｡°✩ semi-public s/ex, fem!reader, biker!sylus, reader wears a skirt, reader's a nasty gal <3, undertones of dom/sub (sylus is one kinky mf), finger sucking, finger gagging, petnames (kitten, baby), fucking on his bike (hehe), c/um countdown, unprotected s/ex (wrap it up babes), sylus matches our freak perfectly, based on this thot i had

⋆｡°✩ dawn says: i've been a nasty girl ive been a nasty girl nasty nasty (sorry zayne)

Sylus isn’t one to find beauty in the mundane but the wind whipping past his frosty locks and your arms wrapped tightly around him makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine.

“Kitten, are you alright?” he calls over the lashing breeze. 

His leather jacket is ridiculously thick, but even through the material, he can feel the heat of your cheeks seeping through.

You always flush whenever he calls you your favorite pet name, and Sylus forgets that just like a kitten, you can be just as playful. 

A slender hand tipped with French nails slides down his torso, leaving blistering heat in its wake. The thin compression shirt he’s wearing under his jacket can barely fight off the warmth of your palm bleeding past the material and onto his skin.

His heart doubles in speed, and in response, he revs the N-907 Ultrabike, its wheels kicking up more dirt and dust. Linkon City speeds into a blur, White Coves’ beaches in the distance and to his right, Bloom Forest spreads her velvety green arms open for adventurous outdoor lovers to play in. 

Your hand trickles down his abs, stealing his attention back to your whims, and he smirks behind his visor when he feels your dainty, pretty little palm resting on the front of his pants.

Looks like the little kitten wants to play a dangerous game.

Two can play the same. 

Sylus pretends to ignore you, and he can tell it only frustrates you more when he remains stone cold and unmoving; a statue you’re trying to thaw.

Your free hand creeps under the hem of his shirt, and thank fuck the wind is too loud because a groan slips past his clenched teeth—it would be absolutely embarrassing if you heard it. His mind works doubly hard to focus on not crashing the bike, maneuvering it down the winding steep roads.

“I thought you said you wanted to take me for a ride,” your voice touches his heated ears, innocent and alluring. 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing, kitten?” He tilts his head back slightly and hears your snort. 

Your antics will never cease to amaze him. Whatever possessed you to be bold also eggs you on to be audacious. Your hands travel further up his shirt, pressing right onto his broad pecs and you smirk when you feel the bike wobbling slightly under his control.

“Kitten,” he hisses. “Stop it.”

But, you don’t listen to him. You never do. 

This insolent prey. He tries his damndest not to buck his hips when you start to rub his bulge, merciless with your teasing. Your other hand reaches up to his neck, where his favorite leather collar sits prettily on his defined clavicles, and tug on it, earning another hiss.

The bike skids to a stop and you’re not sure how you ended up pushed against the pillion seat, Sylus looming over you. He kills the engine and kicks down the stand, the sudden deafening silence exacerbating your heavy breathing. 

“Wait,” you squeak, and he shakes his head.

“No more waiting. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 

Looking around in a panic, you notice that he’s parked the bike under a secluded shade of trees, next to an empty strip of road. 

This was the same route you took to the edge of the N-109 when you were given the mission to retrieve Sylus a few months ago. 

“Familiar, isn’t it?” He reads your mind with a dark chuckle. 

Those ruby red eyes bore into yours with the grace of a predator provoked, and you, his favorite prey, will finally get what you’ve been asking for. 

“I think it’s high time we recreated some memories from the first night we both saw each other,” he drags his palm up your bare thigh, making you shiver. “It’s a good thing you’re in a pretty little skirt, kitten,” he hums, pushing the hem of your leather mini skirt—a gift from him—out of the way. 

Sylus inhales sharply when he notices the micro thong you’re wearing which barely covers anything, his nostrils flaring.

“Insufferable.”

“Sy,” you whine, unsure what he's waiting for. It's never like him to play with his food.

The press of his bigger body on top of yours cages you to the pillion seat, the friction burning when he unceremoniously drags you closer to him. 

Those intense eyes seem to devour you, and for the first time since you’ve been together with him, you see a shadow of his villainous evil in them. 

“Is this what you wanted?” 

Is this what you’ve been begging for? 

Sylus wraps a hand around your throat in broad daylight, not caring for morals or decency when he squeezes. Hard.

Your eyes roll back into your head, regret streaming in for how you teased him earlier. 

“A-ah—” you choke lightly. “Was jus’ tryna play around.” 

Sylus ignores your whimpers, a bored look on his face as he loosens his fingers, letting you suck in a wheezy breath. 

“Little hunters never learn their lessons, do they?” 

He smirks unexpectedly. 

“Remember that night you tried to tame me during our interrogation? In the end, I was the one who had you screaming, didn’t I, kitten?” 

You did remember—of course, you did.

The shine of your boots spreading his kneeling thighs apart. Leather collar around a pale strip of throat you just wanted to suck on and leave a mark. His smug leers, those glowing ruby eyes that shone like dying embers when he finally snaps off the handcuffs you placed him in and pins you to the ground for a taste of your own medicine.

As much as you hate to confront the truth, it stares you down with an impassive face and dark eyes—a truth that breaks the delusion that you were the one in control when it came to Sylus. 

He touches your thighs, spreads them further. Bright sunlight speckles through the trees, casting webs of shadows across his crooked nose and high cheekbones. 

Sylus takes his time to peel your thong off, and you bite down on your lip to muffle a whimper.

“What? Don't tell me you're all shy now?” 

He snorts in amusement at your attempts to be innocent, prying your lower lip free, stroking the curve of your plush mouth with his thumb until you relent and suck on his digit docilely. 

While you’re not inexperienced when it comes to such carnal submission, it’s the first time you’re doing it outside of the bedroom where anyone could stumble upon the both of you. 

The thought makes your thighs tense and your needy pussy clench down on thin air, something that Sylus doesn’t miss.

“You like this, huh? Being slutted out so publicly… it turns you on to be so open to me.” 

He continues to push his thumb around your mouth; pressing down on your gums, flicking the tip of your tongue, inspecting the ridges and juts of each pearly white tooth. Intentionally drawing out your humiliation. 

Satisfied with the oral inspection, he removes his thumb, swiftly stuffing your protests with two thick fingers. 

“You say ‘no’, but I can smell that sweet little cunt getting wetter,” he murmurs, flitting his dark gaze right to your folds flushing readily with need; right to that cleft which houses his favorite hole.

Lewd doesn’t begin to cover how Sylus can treat you in bed. Outside the sheets, he’s content to play the role of your partner and friend, tagging along on your adventures and explorations. 

But the second he has you trapped in his bed, he becomes a different person. 

Meaner. Assertive.

Downright cruel. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” He goads, locks of silver hair falling across his damp forehead. Sweat dews across your chest, and you feel the heat of shame rising in you.

Sylus, I was just joking, you try to argue, but he’s not hearing it. 

“Didn’t seem like a joke when you were pawing at my cock earlier, kitten,” your lover hums, unable to take his half-mast red eyes off of you.  

He slots a hand between your thighs, and you swallow a cry when he drags your thong to the side, spreading your wetness around roughly with his thumb. Sylus rubs tight circles on your aching clit, forcing you to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Ssh,” he whispers when you give a tiny, choked cry. Sylus takes this chance to nuzzle your neck, inhaling your scent like a starved man. “We don’t want anyone to find us out, don’t we, kitten?” 

Evil, evil man. You bite on the inside of your palm to keep quiet when he lifts one leg to wrap around his narrow waist, effortlessly tugging his zipper down and freeing his cock. 

“One single sound and I will stop, do I make myself clear?”

There’s no choice but for you to nod. Sylus doesn’t waste a single second once he’s got you all nice and wet for him, grasping the base of his girthy and veiny length, stroking it a few times to make sure he’s hard and ready for you.

The thick tip breaches past your tight ring of muscle, and you bite down on a sharp gasp, squeezing your eyes close.

His breathing is getting heavier, and he curses the second he bottoms out in your tight heat. 

The bike begins to shake with every clean stroke, his thrusts making your toes curl and heels dig into his back. Luckily, the pillion seat is wide enough to accommodate your shaking bodies; never imagining for a single second that your lover would be boldly fucking you on it in the middle of a dangerous zone.

But, Sylus has always been like this—addictive, painful.

Dangerous. 

How he fucks you is no different. 

The blunt head touches the deepest spot inside of you, and you’re helpless to do anything but cling onto him like second skin, muffling your whines into his broad shoulder.

“Looks like the little kitten is enjoying her cream,” he murmurs, trailing his gaze down your body taking him so well. 

The veins on the back of his hands stand out, drawing your attention to him dragging the front of your blouse down, tucking your bra cups under your heaving breasts. 

Sylus’ mouth wraps around one turgid bud, sucking it till it’s shiny with his spit and throbbing from oversensitivity. 

He repeats the same motion on your neglected nipple, savoring your hitched breaths and muffled whines. 

Your thighs start to shake, and you turn your head to the side. 

Look at you, he coos and grabs your chin, forcing you to gaze at the spot between your thighs where he’s fucking into you. Look at how well you’re taking me. 

You’re so wet that droplets of white are trickling down your inner thighs, frothing into stickiness where his cock is rutting shallowly inside of you. 

“Sy,” you moan softly, eyes glossing over with tears of pleasure.

He loves how needy and pathetic you look for him with your swollen, parted mouth and tight nipples just begging to be pinched or flicked.

A furrow creases between his brows, drops of sweat trickling down his jaw. 

You surprise him by leaning forward, flattening your tongue and lapping it right up, shameless in your desire for him. 

“Naughty girl,” Sylus purrs, his red eyes darkening to an impossible black until you’re sure not a shred of your sweet boyfriend remains. Two thick fingers part your mouth open, sliding down your welcoming throat until he’s knuckle-deep in you.

Sylus chokes you out as his other hand trails down your body towards your clit, rubbing the flushed nub until your hips buck and you cry out; a master at bringing your body closer to the pleasurable brink. 

The tears beading in your lash line finally freefall down your face, triggering his devilish satisfaction. 

Returning the favor, Sylus licks them clean, chuckling cruelly at the arousal turning you cross-eyed. 

He loves it when you look this fucked out, and one day when you’re comfortable enough, he hopes you’ll relent to him taking a picture of that messed up, pretty face for his safekeeping.

Baby, you gurgle around his fingers. I’m close… 

Yeah? He goads. Gonna break for me? Come on this cock? Make a mess? Fuck—do it baby. Mess me up. Make me feel so good because that’s all you’re good for, huh? 

He grits his teeth, fighting back the cresting pleasure, needing you to come first.

Come on, baby. Come with me. Five… four… three… that’s it, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you. Don’t come until I reach zero. Fuck—that pussy’s so tight. Two… one… fuck, fuck. 

High strung keens are escaping past the cracks of his fingers stuffed in your mouth, your entire body shaking violently that Sylus thinks you’re being wrecked by an internal earthquake.

Zero. Zero. Fuck, baby. Come for me. Come on, give it to me. Give me that sweet cum. Yeah, that’s it, that’s it—

He grunts, his patience breaking, flooding inside of you in waves of heat; filling you up to the brim.

In this moment of weakness where anyone targeting him can put a bullet right through his head, Sylus thinks that if he dies right now, he would do so happily in your arms.

His forehead gently thumps onto yours and you must be as fucked up as him because you push his hair back, scratching his scalp lightly.

Your sculpted, 6’2 menace of a lover who’s seen death and destruction since the day he could speak, groans and nuzzles your cheek like a weak puppy. With every version of Sylus that you have seen before, this will always be your favorite one—where he’s comfortable enough to kiss you affectionately, bringing you down from the high.

He hums. “Satisfied?” 

Sylus would never say he loves you out loud—that’s not in his nature.

But, his actions scream louder than words when he adjusts your rumpled clothes and gives you a peck on your cheek.

“Do you still want to visit that mad scientist or should we scrap it for another day?”

The implicit invitation tempts you. 

A boring lecture or a whole day spread out on my sheets, kitten?

“Let’s go home,” you choose the latter, and Sylus tries his hardest to hide his smug smile when you refer to his penthouse as your own home.

“Of course. But, for the sake of not violating any more public decency laws, you better keep your paws to yourself until we get home, kitten.”

Proving your disobedience and your unwillingness to learn your lesson, you sink two fingers under his collar, dragging him close enough for your lips to touch. 

“That depends on if you can get us home fast enough, Sy.”

He takes it as a challenge, a grin touched with a hint of lunacy splitting across his face.

“Is that a challenge, sweetheart?” 

“No, I—”

He pulls you into a kiss, devouring your breaths until your lungs are filled with nothing but him, him, him. 

His fingers in your hair, an arm wound tightly around your waist so his favorite prey can never escape him. Sylus breaks off the kiss, ruby eyes like two bloody pools when he stares at your warm cheeks and puffy mouth. 

“You should know I always—always—win our petty bets.”

— feedback and reblogs are appreciated luvs <33

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or translate to another site

[hypnagogics]

THE WAY YOU WRITE IS JUST SO YUMMM so yeah🧍🏻‍♀️can you write something about streamer ellie <33

☆: IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. definitelyyyy hasn't been...months...anyway. positive this is one of the worse things i've written, but didn't wanna leave you hanging forever! ngl it's pretty filthy..heh.

◇: 18+ pretend those twitch guideline things don't exist. remote control vibrator use, orgasm denial, sub-ish!ellie?? plot twist at the end bc i think im so funny. 1.6k wc. don't mind the layout of this idk what else to do...

You watch your girlfriend stream her game from your fluffy and comfortable spot on your shared bed—you observe how focused she was on her screen, how her skilled fingers were flying across the keyboard and mouse. It would certainly be a shame to disturb her in such a high tension moment but you think it over, running your finger over the small buttons of the sleek little remote in your hand.

"Yeah, yeah, got 'em! Look at that guys, I fuckin’ aced that!" Ellie rejoices in her victory, and gleefully boasts to her viewers, adjusting her microphone closer and leaning back in her chair.

You're glad you were far off camera, her fans didn't even know she was in a relationship—Ellie made it clear she wanted you to be separate from her hobbies, not because she wanted to keep you a secret, but because she wanted to keep you safe. And you enjoyed watching her stream from the sidelines like this, you saw how her personality captivated viewers and how much fun she really was. But you also enjoyed messing with her on the occasion. Like today.

"Can I watch tonight's stream again?" You asked her eagerly. "Yeah, why not? I'll be doing some tournaments and stuff though, so no distractions." Oops. You bit back a laugh. Ellie immediately sussed out the mischievous look on your face and she sighed, expecting the worst.

Then you showed her the box you've been hiding, "Please let's try, I won't click it too much, I promise." She stared at you for a whole minute, maybe more, before sighing and reluctantly agreeing, rubbing her hands all over her face. "God, fine. Just 'cause I love you. Damn you're evil."

Fast forward to now—the device was snugly inserted inside her pretty pussy, tested out to prove it does in fact work, and works well at that.

So off Ellie went to play her game, getting so caught up in everything she seemingly forgot about the device entirely. In between games she was talking to the viewers, reading the chat and joking back and forth. You decided it was a good enough time to click it so you pressed the button, only for a miniscule zap.

She jerked in her seat, gasping, but quickly recovered with a strategic cough. "Phew sorry guys, something got caught in my throat." You saw a bright berry blush spread across her face, and the way she fought to turn and throw a glare at you. This was going to be fun.

"Alright, the next round’s gonna start, we gotta lock in! Hopefully nothing pops up and this goes smoothly. I can taste the win already.” She put a certain warning tone to her voice in the last part of her sentence, you knew it was meant for you, but were you going to listen? Absolutely not. "Oh yeah chat fun fact, this old area of the map was inspired by ancient ruins just of—ah!" As if her body had a mind of its own, she squirmed in her seat and she clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a moan when you hit it again, but this time you didn't turn it off right away. You kept it going for a few more seconds, to prolong the terribly delicious sensation.

She screwed her eyes shut tightly and held her breath until you turned it off, mumbling to her viewers about "having hiccups". "The game is starting now, so we really gotta get serious." Her voice had an unsteadiness to it only you could hear, she was keeping her composure rather well so far. But likely wouldn't be able to keep up the act for much longer. Even she has her limits.

As her match went on, she got quiet when she was focused, mashing the keys with a speed fast as sound. Of course, you hit it again, just a short one, causing a choked "guh" to escape from her lips and she twitched when you did so, her facade starting to crack. The effort to keep her voice stable was showing, she was huffing and struggling to get her words out clearly, they were laced with obvious irritation.

"Fuck missed the shot, dammit. Yeah I don't know, somethings up today, sorry guys...off my game." You decided to be nice to her until the game ended, not pressing it further or adjusting the intensity. She played for a little while longer before losing the match, leaning forward on the desk with her face in her hands. This was the perfect moment, so you cranked it up, increased the intensity to maximum, and held the button for the longest time yet, making her whine—a low, drawn out sound she couldn't stifle this time.

You could hear lots of messages being sent, pings in rapid succession, they were probably clipping that moment. Perverts, you thought. 

Her chest was noticeably heaving up and down, her legs spread as she rocks her front against the chair, and she kept her head lowered until you decreased the intensity but didn't turn it all the way off. Her hands were shaking, and her face was a vibrant cherry red, the screen even reflected the sparkle of a couple tears in her eyes.

“What? Oh, I'm just so sad about the loss guys, we were so close—hnn- so…so closeahh—I mean, we should've gotten that…” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip and tapping her fingers on the desk’s wooden surface. “Y’know what, I'll be right back.” She paused the stream, made triple sure her camera and microphone were turned off, then whipped around in her chair to face you, glaring silver daggers your way.

You just giggled innocently and turned the device off again. “What the fuck is wrong with you, this shit is not- not light on you at all.” Her voice was breaking, her pretty features contorted in a beautifully needy expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all watery. Nearly as wet as the mess in her pants. You feigned innocence and shrugged at her, “Well I didn't know it was that strong.” “You knew damn well.” She's fed up with your antics, but you have fun playing with her. She covers her face and leans back in the chair, the embarrassment in her voice the only thing you could hear, “Fuck you...turn it up again, wanna cum.”

You couldn't contain the laugh that burst forth from your chest, then said, “Only if you stream it.” The shock that flickered across her face was priceless, you wish you could have snapped a photo.

“What the fuck do you mean by that, nah forget it.”

“Hey, you gotta finish your stream either way, they're waiting. Would you wanna be so awful and deprive those darlings of your presence?”

You flash her a sugary smile, and she shoots you a murderous look again, before wordlessly scooting back to her setup, fanning herself briefly and readjusting her coppery hair.

Then she turns the stream back on. “Sorry guys, I had to get up for a second. Anyway, let's play one more game. I'm getting kinda tired today. Let's make this one count, lock in like never before.” She takes a deep breath, cracks her knuckles, and begins smacking away at the keyboard buttons. You're able to see the way she looks tense, on edge, anticipating your devilish interruption.

You debate whether you should torture her, but the answer quickly becomes clear. Click.

“Ah—fuck!” She sputters, and roughly slams her fist on the desk. The pleasure was hitting her with full force, she was in her own, lewd, world now. Her head is thrown back, back arched and hips stuttering, the release was about to sneak up on her.

You watch the scenario unfold, licking your lips and pressing your thighs together to deal with the pressure between them. Her unapologetic moans get louder, but for a second she snaps out of the trance to sit back upright, turn the stream off, before the peak hits her like a truck.

“Holy, fu—hah!!” With a squeal she cums, not caring about how fucking loud she was being, wanting to be selfishly absorbed in ecstasy.

She started to jolt around in her seat, the throes of overstimulation making her whimper like an animal in heat, it truly was a sight to behold. You wish you were in between her legs, lapping up her sweetness straight from the source, but in a way, just watching from the sidelines was satisfying enough. You'll clean her up afterward.

Finally you turned it off once and for all, and gazed at her, she was panting heavily, the post-orgasm glow making her rosy skin shimmer in the low light.

“Hmmm, thanks babe, that was so good…” She tried to talk, her head was in the clouds, but she looked at peace.

“You're a whore.” You chortled, and you two shared a laugh.

Although, a flurry of shrill sounds brought you both out of the fantasy. Ping, ping, ping.

Unfortunately she wasn't able to enjoy the aftermath of a mind-numbing session, because her eyes shot open and she began scrambling to find the source of the sound. Your stomach dropped as you watched her panic, her neuroticism infectious.

She looked at you, her eyes wider than saucers, nothing but fear in her voice, “I wasn't able to turn my mic off…”

What was she going to do now?

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