#please be nice to me I’m sensitive

[pumpkinfreak]

Plastic Inferno

Hey if you fallow me for horror stuff you may not like this, or maybe you will. I don’t feel like making a second blog for comic related stuff so I’m posting my fics here. I have too many fixations and too little patience. Anyway, Plastic Man centric fic starts below. ***

Plastic man stared, eyes unfocused, into the vast expanse of space. The Watchtower hummed around him, rotating at an almost imperceptible rate. The conversations behind him fade into the hum. He shouldn’t be here, but Woozy said it would be good to get away for a few hours. “You alright over there Plas.” Superman called from behind him. Twisting his midsection around he smiled, “Oh me,  I’m great!” Plas had never craved a cigarette so bad in his life. It made his teeth itch. “ Probably gonna head out early.” Not waiting for a response, Plas stretched over the table and out of the room. They watched as he left. 

The sound of the Teleporter rumbled through the walls, finally Wonder Woman broke the silence. “I’m worried about him.” Kyle Rayner, Green Lantern, nodded in agreement. “He’s been weird all day. Well, weird for Plastic Man. He barely spoke!” Superman swiveled his chair to face the Flash. “Explain again what happened last night?” The Speedster shrugged. “Not much to tell. He was on monitor duty. Called me at midnight, and said he had a family emergency. So I took over for him.” 

Superman rubbed the back of his neck. “Huh,  Never really considered that he had a family.” One by one guilt clouded over their faces, as they looked at one another. Plas talked a lot, but what did he ever say about himself? None of them had bothered to ask. Exception is Batman, of course, but never asks, he just finds out. “Kyle, you should go talk to him.” Wonder Woman offered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You spend the most time with him.” Kyle crossed his arms. “Yeah, but we never talk about anything serious.” Batman stood up sliding past Kyle on his way out. “Now is a good time to start.” Kyle sighed, he was right. 

Kyle followed Plastic Man’s coordinates, teleporting to an alley in Brooklyn. Powered down, he stepped out into the street, and began typing out a message to Plas on his phone. Kyle stopped when a tall man walked out of the corner bodega ahead of him. Black pants, red shirt, white goggles tucked into the back pocket. “Plas?” Kyle called out tentatively. The man turned around, eyebrows raised. 

“Kyle, what are you doing here? Did something happen?” He asked, coming close. “You're not…shiny.” Kyle replied, caught off guard. When meeting Plas a few years ago he had been so put off by his appearance. Shiny, perfectly smooth skin, no pores or wrinkles. Except when he smiled. Plas was a walking PVC mannequin. Seeing him now, as a normal middle aged man, it felt almost wrong. 

Plas smiled. His first real smile of the day. “This is what I looked like before my accident.” He popped a cigarette in his mouth,  spreading his arms out. Giving Kyle a good look. “You’re older than I thought you were. No offense.” Plas waved him off. “None taken, I’m frozen at thirty five. No matter what I look like.” Plas lit up the cigarette, storing the lighter and pack inside his body. Yup this was Plastic Man. “So why are you here?” 

Kyle rocked on his heels. May as well be honest. “You just seem down today . I thought I’d come check on you.” Plas exhaled a puff of smoke. “It’s nothing, I just have a lot on my mind.” 

Kyle crossed his arms. “Since when do you smoke?” Plas grinned, biting the cig between his teeth. “You sound like the nuns.” He remarked. “ Cut me a break, this is my first one in three years.” Kyle nodded. “It must be pretty serious then.” Plas’s smile went flat. He looked tired. Kyle used his ring to fly them up onto the rooftop. “I’m pretty sure this is kidnapping.” Plas remarked. 

They sat on the edge of the roof, their feet dangling off the edge. “It feels weird to call you Plastic Man when you look like that.” The older man glanced over at him. “ Patrick O’Biren, but everyone calls me Eel.” He offered his hand to Kyle, who shook it. Then they were quiet for a while. It was different, being quiet with Eel, who was always joking or rambling about something stupid. 

Right now he just sat, glassy blue eyes heavy, as he looked out over the street. Smoke swirling up from his mouth into the cold night. Kyle could see it in his body he was agitated. Shoulders rounded and high. Clenching and unclenching his hands. 

Kyle waited until Eel lit a second cigarette. “So are you going to tell me what happened?” Eel sighed. He wanted to scream it from this rooftop. Maybe that when lighted that weight in his chest, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t face the fullness of it yet. So he met it halfway instead. Rubbing out his cigarette he confessed. “My son was in an accident last night.” Kyle turned to him, Eyes wide. “You have a son? I mean, is he okay?” Eel looked out into the city like the void of space. Unbothered by Kyle’s surprise. “He’s stable now.” Kyle felt a pit grow in his stomach, there was something else. 

“Luke, that’s a good name. How old is he?” Eel faced him. That familiar smile tugging at his lips. “Twelve, although he’s quick to remind me he’s nearly thirteen.” Shame washing over Eel. “I didn’t know about him until he was ten.” Kyle frowned and opened his mouth to speak . “Don't pity me. You know the story. I was a thug long before he was here and too long after.” Eel interjected as he stood. To pace back and forth on the ledge of the building.  

“Can you believe she recognized me?” He morphed back to his shiny body, for a moment. “ Saw me on T.V. next to Superman. Decided maybe I deserve a chance to meet my boy. My Angel…” He stopped, cursed himself for slipping up. She hadn’t been his Angel. Not for over a decade. He cleared his throat roughly. “His mother, Angle, offered to have him tested to prove it . I laughed at her. He looks just like me.”  

Kyle knew he wasn’t really talking to him anymore. Eel’s eyes looked wet, straining to keep from crying. Kyle stood  and Eel turned away from him. “Eel, what happened to Angel last night.” Neither of them could hear the city anymore. 

“Kyle, did I ever tell you that my mother died when I was thirteen.” His voice was choked, his body didn’t want these words to escape. It made it real to say it. Eel bitterly wiped away tears. Kyle kept his distance, uncertain of how to proceed. 

“Does Luke know?”

If Plas said anything he didn't hear him. Not over the sound of the explosion below them. A massive plume of purple flame came roaring out of the sewer. Fire bursting manhole covers out of the ground. The force shattered windows down the block. “Let's go.” Plastic man said, stretching down to the street. “Wait, Plas I’ll handle it. You should get back to the hospital.” 

Plas didn't look back at him. “ It could be hours before Luke is coherent, I may as well be useful.” He was already lowering himself down into the sewer. Kyle tried calling after him, eventually giving up to fly after him.    

Using his ring Kyle lit up the space around them. Chill damp air made them shiver. “What do you think could make a blast like that?” Lantern asked. A shrill screech came howling from down the tunnel. Both men covered their ears, the sound piercing threw their skulls. “I think it might be down there.” Plas sarcastically replied. Kyle flew them down the tunnel, avoiding the slimy dark water below them. 

The tunnel opened to a much larger chamber that dropped down into a dark abyss. “It's too quiet here.” Plas whispered. Both men could feel it. Something in this place was wrong. The darkness was different, As though you could reach out and touch it. “Hey, just let me call someone else. Go be with your boy.” Kyle offered again. “GL I appreciate it, I really do, but-“

A strong gust of wind came up from the darkness, knocking them back, and Kyle cried out. The two began falling. The ring lighting the way down. Plastic Man managed to reach Kyle. Wrapping him up as he formed into a ball cushioning the impact. They splashed into warm water, an acrid sour smell washed over them as they broke the stagnant surface. 

Plas reformed holding Kyle, eyes watering from the stench. That oppressive darkness still gripped them. The ring only illuminated a few feet around them, and Plas saw the gash in The Lanterns side. 

“GL, Lantern, Kyle!” Plas shook him gently, but Kyles only limply moved his head. “I should have listened to you.” Plas Whispered to himself. His rubber skin rippled, and he searched the darkness. There was someone watching them. “Who’s there!” he shouted. The blackness disoriented him. If Plas couldn’t feel the water around his ankles, you could convince him he was suspended in an endless void. He shouted again, searching up above him, hoping to see the shaft they fell down.   

There was a pinprick of light, he noticed, just outside the reach of the light. He moved toward it, stopping, when the light multiplied to two, then five.

In the green glow of light, a tall figure melted out of the shadows. stepping forward on bird-like feet. Plas pulled Kyle closer. The creature's five eyes, fanned out over its white disk-like face. They blinked in unison at him. It was an owl, or something like one. “You should not be here.” Its voice is like the rumble of a furnace. 

“Did you-Did you do this.”Plas meant to shout it, but it came out soft. It flapped its large black wings. The feathers on its long neck and chest bristled. It raised its hand, human-like and bone white like its face, fingers tipped with long thick claws. Plas instinctively wrapped one arm around the creature's neck. It didn't flinch, only blinked again. “Please, I only wish to help.”

 A purple flame emerged from the creature's open palm. Plas’s grip on its neck tightened. “He will die.” Eel felt sick loosening his hold as the flame wafted over from its hand and into Kyle's wound. The flesh coming back together. Kyle groaned and then sighed in relief. “He will sleep for some time, You must follow me.” 

Plas moved Kyle onto this back. Tendril of his body kept him in place. The creature swept past, Plas noticed the glint of metal in its opposite hand. A sword. “Lantern was right, I should call back up.” The creature flapped its wings, agitated. “It is too late for that. You are no longer on earth.” Plastic Man squinted trying to see more of the creature. 

“Fat chance, I’m listening to you.” He stretched up quickly, only to have his body pulled back. He tried again this time he was pushed down by what he did not know, but it nearly knocked him off balance. “It’s not you, but your friend.” It said gesturing to the unconscious Lantern. “He cannot leave, my opponent took his blood. He is trapped here until I find his enchanter.” 

Plastic Man perked up. The word enchanter caught his attention. “Magic! Of all the heroes to get sucked into this…it had to be me.” Plastic Man lamented. “You must follow me. Neither of you will survive, unless you go back to Earth alone.”      

Plas furrowed his brow, his goggles going u-shaped. “Fat chance of that.” He quipped. The creature nodded, “It is your choice O’Brien.” Plas cringed, he needed to keep his distance from this thing. It knew his name, who knows what else. “What are you anyway, Where are we?” The creature blinked its eyes, and came close in a single stride.

“ You are in Hell Patrick O’brian.”

[katadastical]

Ok I didn’t do this when I initially posted the video because tbh I’m scared of people being mean to me on the internet

But you tumblr gremlins who live in my phone seem nice so if you’re curious about what dumbass has been running this blog

OR watching me scream about cowboys and being a dorky little fandom idiot who can’t aim a gun sounds fun then I present: this video

[thisblogisaboutabook]

I’m nervous to post the next part of “Bad Idea, Right?”

I am still working on it buttttt there’s some Elriel content and I know how passionate everyone gets and don’t want to get yelled at for “picking a side”. Elriel just fit the plot of my story better due to the Aunt and Uncle dynamics.

So I’m going to say this now: I love Elain. I love Gwyn. Both are strong, capable females who have overcome adversity and I am excited to read more about them. I will be happy with whomever Azriel ends up with so long as they are cherished and respected.

If I had to pick a side it would be: MEriel 😏

[seaswallovvme]

I see you wanted some request... May i suggest Baldwin laying his head on reader's lap and sharing a romantic moment? Maybe reader reading some poetry for Balwin and some soft kissses in his gloved hand. Just if you want, of course.

Have a nice day ♡

Shallows

A/N: This is inspired by the song “Shallows” by Daughter just in case you wanna listen to it! Also the poem is a shortened version of “Anim Zemirot” which is a Jewish liturgical poem. I thought it fit nicely cause often the love we share with others brings us closer to God and sometimes God reflects in other people to bring out the best in us🤍

The stifling Jerusalem heat was something she would surely never get used to.

She was born in a place far from the holy land, raised in a land that was so far she doubted she’d ever see it again.

A land where snow would fall and cover the mountains and endless meadows in a thick coating of white.

Sometimes she missed her home which now seemed impossibly far away, and everything in her new home couldn’t have been more different.

The first few months she had cried a lot, she had been homesick to a point where she could hardly eat, unsure about her fate of being the new queen of the kingdom of heaven.

It was such a heavy weight that lasted upon her shoulders at such a young age.

It was burden that threatened to crush her whenever she would wake in the mornings and yet, when she thought the sun would never rise for her again, a single ray of light made its way into her heart.

Her husband had always been so gentle and patient with her, coaxing her out of her shell when she shut herself away, bringing a small tray of her favourite cakes and spiced tea into her room.

He was so gentle, so kind and fair and so different from what her mother had told her about the ways of men.

He was exactly what a king should be and there had been so many before him, older and more experienced too but their glory faded in comparison to Baldwin.

She had never minded that he was sick, a part of her hoping he would leave her alone to lament his fate and yet she found herself to be pleasantly surprised when he didn’t.

It had taken time for her to get used to his presence and the duties that came with being a queen but she would have been a fool to keep him on a distance forever.

She simply couldn’t.

Not when he would sit by the side of her bed when she refused to leave her chambers for the first week, not when he would never raise his voice or have any demands other than to at least try to give this new life a chance.

A hour of him sitting on the edge of her bed had soon turned into more.

Spending the evenings playing chess or visiting the gardens at sundown, talking of books from lands far away, myths and stories or battles that had been fought long ago.

She simply couldn’t keep this gentle and soft-spoken young man at arms length.

One night however he didn’t come to her chambers.

She waited for the sun to set but even then, no trace of him.

Perhaps he had grown tired of her stubbornness.

Perhaps he had grown tired of her self pity?

And how could he not?

His fate was much more agonising than hers, his existence was a matter of life and death every day, only alive and breathing by the grace of god.

She felt like a fool to cause such an ordeal in front of the man who suffered each day, bearing his cross yet being so kind to her.

She was tossing at turning in her bed.

It was hot and the silken sheets that wrapped around her body so softly even felt too heavy at this point, too hot, too tight.

It was no use crying now, she decided chewing on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully while slowly climbing out of her bed.

The marble floor was pleasantly cold underneath her bare feet as she slipped through the darkened hallways of the palace, quiet as a cat, a burning candle in one hand a book in the other.

She knew the way to Baldwins chambers.

He had shown her on the first day she arrived, explaining she would be welcome at any time of day or night no matter the reasoning.

And this reasoning was very important, she was sure.

She would head inside and apologise.

She would apologise and ask if she could read to him the way he had read to her so often.

She would say how sorry she was for being so ignorant and selfish, how she was sure she would do her very best from now on to be a proper queen and wife.

However as soon as she knocked softly and slipped past the guards with an apologetic smile the words died in her throat.

His chambers were dimly lit by candles, a faint trace of sandal wood lingering in the air.

Here it was cooler than elsewhere in the palace, to help his weary lungs breathe.

He was laying in bed, on his back.

His hands were freshly bandaged, his face too now that he was not wearing a mask and she could smell the herbal ointments.

Quietly she stepped closer but still he noticed her, raising his head as his eyes widened and she was sure had never seen a man this worried in her life.

“I am so truly sorry I was not able to visit you my beautiful darling”

When he spoke she had to step even closer to hear his voice, so soft and quiet that it easily could have passed as a hushed wind.

“I have developed a fever, nothing grave yet my physicians refuse to let me leave my chambers” he explained, a sorrowful look on his face.

“I had sent for a servant to inform you about the situation..did no one tell you at all?”

In that moment all of her hesitance, fear and standoffish thoughts melted away and instead her heart soared with an unfamiliar feeling.

It had first started faintly in her stomach when he would offer her his arm in the gardens a while ago but this was a much more intense feeling.

So intense it almost hurt yet in such a strangely beautiful way and she could feel the tears stinging in her eyes.

“Please do not apologise..it is I who should tell you how sorry I am” her voice was a mere whisper, strained and she licked her lips to wet them before slowly climbing into his bed, so careful not to hurt him.

She looked up, facing the guards by the door.

“Please leave us”

She rarely ever addressed them but now she did, her timid voice so loud against the quiet of his chambers that it nearly startled her.

Baldwin seemed curious by the way she was behaving and even more so when she spoke again as soon as the guards had left and closed the heavy door behind them.

“I want to apologise” she started quietly but her voice got more sure the more she spoke.

“I want to apologise for having been so difficult when I know you are feeling much worse than I. I have never wanted to be a burden to you or make your days more difficult than they are already”

When she had first started talking she avoided his gaze but now she looked at him, truly, for the first time ever and despite the fact she could only see his eyes she knew underneath the bandages he was smiling.

“An angel sent from heaven could never be a burden to me” he whispered back, reaching out to place his bandages hand on hers so very softly.

Her vision became blurry with tears and yet she smiled, gently squeezing his hand back and oh how she thanked the almighty to have given her a husband as gentle and righteous as hers.

She slipped underneath the covers, nuzzling into him hoping he could forgive her but the way he held her close made her feel like there was nothing to forgive at all.

After a short while they had settled in comfortably and now it was her turn to return all the affection, love and care he had showered her with in the last few weeks.

His head was heavy, resting in her lap and his eyes were shut as she gently traced her fingers over his bandages face, every now and then raising his hand to her lips to kiss it.

A fever was always worse at night but she hoped her presence would bring him at least a small sense of comfort, even if it was the least she could do.

Her plan however seemed to work just fine, his breathing slower, less laboured and his limbs had relaxed, his free arm wrapped around her as if he were scared she would leave.

She wouldn’t, never again.

“Would you like me to read to you? I finished one of the books you gifted me and when I read one poem I was reminded of you” she admitted, somewhat glad the dimly lit room disguised the flushing cheeks that came with how she hated herself emotionally.

She wasn’t worried he would make fun of her though, he never had made her feel uncomfortable and now it was on her to make him feel just as safe.

His response was a faint nod and a whisper, his blue eyes opening and he looked at her with so much adoration that she could feel her heart ache once more

“Yes please..”

She was eager to comply, not wasting a second she straightened up a little, opening the book she had brought, flipping through the pages until she found what she had been looking for.

With care she tilted the book in a way for the torches on the walls to hit the paper in a way that would make it possible for her to read.

When she did, her voice was quiet and she made no pause, only rubbing his hand through the bandages.

The way he squeezed her hand back made her stomach flutter, sure that he could feel her touch.

“Melodies I weave, songs I sweetly sing;
longing for Your Presence, to You I yearn to cling.

In Your shelter would my soul delight to dwell,
to grasp Your mystery, captured by Your spell.

Thus I glorify You in speech as in song,
declaring with my love: to You do I belong.

The scope of your greatness and he marvel of Your strength
are reflected in Your actions all described at length.

Youth and force in battle, old age on judgment day;
like a seasoned warrior, with strength He clears the way.

He wears triumph as a helmet on His head,
His power and holiness have stood Him in good stead.

May my prayer rise to the Creator of the miracle of birth,
Master of beginnings whose might and justice fill the earth.

May You find sweet and pleasing my prayer and my songs;
my soul goes out in yearning, for You alone it longs.”

Silence stretched out near torturously when she had finished reading and neither of them said a word.

She felt embarrassed all of the sudden, awkward having read a poem filled with devotion and yearning such as this, both for him and for God but when she looked down into his face all of those feelings faded.

His eyes were open, glossy with adoration and a sheer layer of tears and she could have sworn she had never seen a sight this beautiful.

No matter the illness, no matter the bandages and physical fragility that seemed to drain him, none of that could take his beauty away.

His voice broke when he spoke and she was so taken aback it took her a moment to recognise his words were a quote from the poem she had read

“..declaring with my love: to You do I belong..this poem is about the Lord is it not?”

She smiled faintly, shutting the book as she placed it down on the small table next to the bed.

“It is..it reminded me of you. Of how brave and good you are and I cannot help but feel as if the Lord wanted us to cross paths. Your love turns me into a better person Baldwin. When I am with you I feel as close to him as I have ever felt before”

His hand squeezed hers just a little tighter and he took a deep breath before he continued

“Sometimes I cannot comprehend the Heavenly Father and his mysterious ways. I used to think my illness was a way for him to punish me, scorn me for my sins but how could I ever doubt his justness, his everlasting grace and love when he granted me the time I get to spend with you?”

[roosterm3at]

Reblog if you think alyx and Barney should kiss somtimes

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

✨Committed to being silly and frivolous and whimsical in a world that tries to steal every ounce of joy and happiness and magic from you✨

[floral-hex]

hi it’s my birthday tomorrow

[lansolot]

lansolot my theater and classical literature enjoying blogger on my dash DO YOU have any favorite monologues from shows or books or anything else that you would like to share about

thank you so much for this ask! this’ll be quite the messy post, so do forgive me for that. however, i will make an attempt to organize it! also, i do apologize for any grammar or spelling errors i make. i’m half asleep at the moment

— 1

i could go on for hours about this play as it’s such a favorite of mine. i’ve already gone on a long tangent about horatio and hamlet in the past, so i’ll at least try to make this little ramble hamlet centered. despite how often i see people complain about how hamlet isn’t a good play and that shakespeare is too difficult to understand, i think that people should at least try to understand his works. especially hamlet, as i personally think that it’s an incredibly influential play of his. even though hamlet’s classic “to be, or not to be” soliloquy is quite popular, it’s incredible that it’s so popular and commonly studied by so many people. words love to fail me, but what i’m trying to say is that there’s something beautiful about literature written so long ago being so widely adored, related to, and studied by people today. it’s so fun seeing others relate to characters like hamlet and get all giddy when reading said books and realizing that hey, this character written about over 100 years ago is quite similar to me!

— 2

the amount of symbolism in the picture of dorian gray makes me insane. the amount of nature symbolism? the fact that basil is what oscar sees himself as, henry is what the world sees him as, and dorian is what oscar wishes that he could be in a different era? i could go on about this for hours if my words weren’t failing me

— 3

listen. i do not play about religious themes and, as you all know, symbolism, metaphors, etc. i don’t know many people that care about this book, but i’ll be rambling about it anyways. the death of ivan ilyich is FULL of symbolism. first off, whist. in the death of ivan ilyich, various characters play whist in order to escape from matters they deem as bothersome or dull. ivan ilyich plays whist to forget about the pain he’s in, pyotr ivanovich flees ivan’s home quickly to play whist and distract himself from the solemn atmosphere of ivan’s funeral. characters play whist in order to distract themselves from suffering, death, and monotony. it’s, as i see it, a representation of the more “trivial” activities that ivan and those around him participate in to flee from a life that’s lacking of enjoyment and liveliness. also, ivan being compared to a phoenix? a creature that shines brilliantly, returns to ash, then returns back to life? the fact that ivan lived his “golden days”, fell ill, and in the end, passed away and saw light instead of dark? god, this book makes me ILL. don’t even get me started on the fact that the chapters grow shorter as ivan dies to show himself slowly nearing his demise. and the fact that the number 3, a number heavily used in the bible, is so commonly used in the death of ivan ilyich, but especially during the last chapter? the fact that biblically it can represent a new life and resurrection… and the way that ivan ilyich resorts to god in his final days… and also, the fact that the saying “it is finished” is referenced in the books ending… someone please stop me from rambling too much. none of this makes sense bc i’m so tired but that’s ok

[hawnks]

gentle psa:

I am one person running a fan account; I am also in the final weeks of my graduate program, working a high-stress job, and working on my thesis which is writing a whole book.

I’m sorry if you send an ask and it takes me a second to get to it, or if I’m not updating fics at a frequency you’re happy with. But this is my hobby and I do it for fun, and my real life is always going to take priority.

Please remember I’m a human being too, not just a fic writer

[rarelyrad]

Please tell me I’m not the only person who hates getting comments on Ao3 saying to “fuck myself” or “I hate this” like dog, if you don’t like it don’t read it but no need to say shit like that.

[trippppp]

like i don’t like my chest? but also when it’s swollen and sensitive and like. when i squeeze it it kind of hurts?

[lieutenant-amuel]

I remembered I loved making S&T videos and since I liked Miraculous the Movie and Russian dub of the songs, I decided to make it!

The song Stronger Together with Russian lyrics, romanization, and English translation made by me на коленке.

[anxioustwilight]

This is a vibe.

I don’t know if it’s a good vibe, but. This feels like one of those niche “my parents are arguing in the background” kind of videos.

I’m mostly over Mr. Spock. I hope I can create an environment where my Shrimp feel safe enough to have more shrimp.

[neo-nomatrix]

EAT IT UP !

HOW THE JJK MEN EAT P*$$Y

Multiple x reader

-> GOJO, NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, SUKUNA, CHOSO

warnings ⚠️ smut… duh. pussy eating… duh. 69 in getos. talks of bondage. talks of choking (on dick) overalll smut idk

GOJO SATORU AKA “kid in a candy store”

On his tummy, feet in the air, humming. His legs are swaying back and forth but you’re way too busy to notice. He’s looking up at you with those unmistakable eyes watching you fall apart on his skilled tongue. His hand use your thighs as handles and makes out with your sloppy, cute cunt. He’s trying to tease you but the words come out as gurgled mumbles since his mouth is basically superglued to you.

You’re throbbing on his lips and he slurps it up like honey. Sometimes he dips his fingers in but usually sticks with his mouth. Fucks his tongue inside of you and he’ll probably start gagging because of how far he gets. He has to hug your thighs when you cum because of how squirmy you get. Nips at your clit when it’s all sensitive and giggles.

“You’re so fucking cute squirming”

“Oh wow… feels that good huh?”

“Is this how it feels when you gag on my cock?”

NANAMI KENTO AKA “use me like a chair”

Wants all your weight on his face or else he’s not happy. And no- it’s not an option. Maybe you’ll suffocate him, but who’s to say that’s not the goal? He cups his hands around your thighs and pulls you down on him, immediately getting to work. He’s so sensual and romantic about it. Slowly licking from your entrance to your clit. Definitely kisses your clit before starting anything.

Gathers a whole bunch of spit before and globs it onto you. There should literally be bubbles when you get off of him. Tries his best not to snake his hand down his pants so he can focus on you. As much as he loves you grinding down on his face he always stops you. This is for him to do all he work, he should be making you feel so good you don’t need to think about grinding down.

“Let me do all the work, just sit there.”

“I know i’m hard, sweetheart. I’ll get to that later.”

“Stop hovering, do i need to tie you up?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA “this is for him”

Even though it’s an activity meant to pleasure you, it’s for him. For him to melt away his worries into your sweet cunt. He uses it as a stress reliever, massaging your ass like a stress ball. will literally ask you why you were squirming so much, it disturbed his peace.

Never stops after you come. More flavor for him. Has you on your tummy, he’s spreading you apart and eating it. His hands are never still. Always running up and down your back or playing with the skin of your ass. Moves up to grope your tits and play with your sweet nipples.

“Put your face into the pillow and bite if it’s to much”

“You take my cock every day but my mouth is too much?” oh wait, that’s also too much

“Maybe i should leave some marks on this ass too.”

GETO SUGURU AKA “34 + 35”

SixtyNine KING. Can’t decide between being on bottom or top. On bottom he can get the pleasure of you sitting on his face. The only downside is your squirming with so much pleasure that you forget to suck his cock. He doesn’t care that much, eating you out is plenty of pleasure, but it would be nice. But he does hate it when your strokes get sloppy and they become borderline teasing.

On top he gets the added bonus of fucking your face. Thrusting in and out of your moaning mouth as much as he pleases. He loves hearing you choke while slurping you up. He just doesn’t like the blood going to his head while eating you out. He’s pretty simple when it comes to pussy eating. Loves to suck on your clit and use his fingers. Definitely makes you lick your own cum from his fingers. Finger fucks you until his hands are pruned.

“C’mon baby, at least stroke me baby. Look how hard he is for you.”

“I know it’s so much, huh?

“That’s fine, i’ll just throat fuck you with my cum soaked fingers,”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA “stop running”

Eats you out until you’re rolling around on the floor. And still keeps going. He hates it when you squirm, but also doesn’t do anything to stop it. Locks his arms around your thighs and presses a hand against your tummy. Sloppily eats your cunt with no technique. Spits soo much on it. The noises that come from your cunt and his mouth are insane. Dips his tongue real deep into your mess to get every drop.

Has you on the verge of passing out when you cum. And you guessed it, still won’t stop. He definitely pushes your thighs to your chest and wraps his arms around your whole body to keep you still. Loves it when you push on his head in desperation. It makes him so much harder.

“You keep fucking running and I’ll go for longer.”

“You’re only making it worse for yourself by squirming.”

“Fucking take it or I’ll make you.” yeah he definitely makes you

CHOSO KAMO AKA “kitten licks”

He eats you out like he’s scared. He’s so fascinated by your slippery pussy that he unintentionally goes super slow. Giving soft kisses to your clit and licking at your entrance like a popsicle. You have to tell him to go a little harder so it feels better. and once he does, no going back.

Starts to eat it like a starved man. He gets so mad he’s never done this before because he’s in heaven. Ruts his cock into the sheets because it feels so amazing. Moaning like a slut into your pussy. So much spit and his tongue is going wild on your pussy. He’s definitely making this apart of your routine.

“Oh my god it’s so wet baby.”

“Faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry…”

“It feels good right, baby? Am I doing good?”

[somniphyte]

Introduction Post™️

Hello! I am Moss, and also Mulch and Grub. I’m in high school and do art purely as a hobby. I am making an effort to get better at art, so bear with me as I make significant art style changes. I like to experiment. I do not post frequently.

I fandom hop very frequently and my art follows with it, so don’t expect there to be a bunch of stuff on one fandom. Art purely caters to me and nobody else. Eurghh,, I delete posts when I look at them and cringe

I do have an Instagram, but I’m not found anywhere else and I don’t post frequently on there. If anything it’s mostly going to be an archive.

[skygirlstars]

Ahsoka nails!! they took forever bc of the drying time between layers and the Fulcrum symbol still turned out kinda wonky. far from perfect but I’m really happy with how they turned out, especially since I did everything from the design to the painting (with regular nail polish, not gel) by myself!

the stripes are more blue in person but oh well, you get the idea