#short and sweet just for u

[jacqui-velazquez]

who: @nataliavega where: tri delt valentine's party when: during speed dating

"First you show up at my room, now we're going on a date...." Jacqui paused, looping an arm through Nat's as they gave her a conspiratorial grin. "Seems like an awful lot of steps to just tell me you have a crush on me," they said in a teasing tone. "Unless...you weren't planning on spending these three minutes confessing."

[gabbieperera]

CLOSED — @kyleyangs

location — medusa

"Now what the hell is that?" Gabbie's eyes focus on someone trying and failing to dance in the middle of the dance floor. "God, I think I'm too sober for this place."

[astrobei]

he’s very tired after his surprise party btw

[calmparticles]

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[mintypsii]

doodle dump :3

some of these r comic wips that i prob won't get to (the last one is post w7 where an anxious usopp places traps around the sunny and sanji gets caught in one bfhdkjs)

[rintoki]

when you sleep at night

characters: kafka x dom!reader

tw: somnophilia, dubcon, nothing too crazy actually relax

a/n: i guess this can be considered a second part to my first kafka smut, its like the exact same setting and dynamic.

MINORS DNI

the door opens easily as kafka steps into the entrance way, slipping out of her heeled boots and quietly making her way through the dark living room. all the lights in the house was out and it was eerily silent, through the dim lighting kafka strains her eyes to check the clock hanging on your wall.

11:37pm

you couldn’t possibly be sleeping this early yet. but, alas, you proved to be unpredictable to her once again as she turns the knob to your bedroom, pushing it open to reveal your sleeping form on the bed. her feet padded softly on the floor; taking slow, deliberate steps closer to the bed that you laid on.

kafka clicked her tongue, a tinge of annoyance blossoming in her chest when she sees that you were indeed fast asleep and not just pretending to mess with her. not that you were the type to do that anyway. she felt her finger twitch unconsciously, standing foolishly by your bed as she is once again reminded of how little you cared for her. despite her now regular visits to your residence, you never once welcomed her, nor have you ever made any type of accommodations towards her.

the woman breathes deeply, your familiar scent permeates the room and her body is quick to react to it. reminded of all the late nights spent together, how warm your body felt next to hers, and how good you made her feel. kafka shuts her eyes for a moment, deciding on what to do now. part of her knows that the right thing to do is to leave and come back another time, preferably informing you beforehand like you had asked of her.

but instead she remains in her spot; unmoving as she watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, your soft breasts hidden underneath the thin material of your pyjamas, and how easy it would be to simply unbutton it right now. kafka finds herself getting lost in her thoughts, eyes raking over your body as she thinks about everything she could do to you now. but more than anything, her purple eyes finally land on your hands; the same hands that brought her orgasm after orgasm. the very ones that hugged and caressed her body, how she wanted to feel them again.

and as if in a trance, kafka pushes her jacket off her shoulders, letting the expensive coat fall to the floor without a care. normally unheard of with how much she loves her coats, but now there’s no one here to see that. and there’s no one to witness as she peels off the layers of her clothing, her belly tightening with every passing second and soon the woman stood in nothing but her panties.

kafka crawls gingerly onto the bed, careful to not wake you as she eyes your hand resting by your side. she tests the waters, nimble fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling it away from your body. when you show no reaction does the excitement bubble up within her, her pussy already beginning to ache with need

inch by inch, she shuffles closer. until your relaxed fingers lay just underneath her clothed pussy, a wet spot now forming on her panties. kafka’s breathes deeply, trying to keep it even as she lowers herself onto your hand, feeling your fingers fold naturally under her weight.

a shaky breath escapes her at the feeling, slowly moving her hips back and forth on your curled fingers, not caring how awkward the position was. kafka watches your sleeping form carefully, but you showed no signs of waking up, still blissfully unaware and deeply asleep.

a small part of her was annoyed—that you didn’t wake up and catch her in the act, that she won’t get to see your reaction. but the larger part of her is now pushing off her panties, letting her bare pussy rub against the palm of your hand. it was warm, and the ridges brushed perfectly against her swollen clit. kafka shudders, her breathing turns heavy as she continues the slow rutting of her hips, allowing herself to enjoy the sensations until your hand was sufficiently lubricated from how much she leaked.

and with shaky hands, she positioned your fingers upright, aligning it with her hole before sinking down upon them. kafka nearly whines, biting back any sounds as your fingers penetrates her tight walls. she grips your wrist, holding them in place as the woman lifts her hips once again, this time pushing your fingers into her pussy. again and again, your fingers sunk deep into her warmth and kafka pants quietly. her mind was feeling dizzy from the entire situation, the fact that you weren’t even conscious now and yet you still managed to reduce her to this state. how even just your fingers was enough for her pussy to twitch and push back so desperately against your hand.

she squeezes her eyes shut, her head hung low and nearing the verge of her orgasm as she angles your wrist so that the tips of your fingers brushed against her spot. the sensitive patch of nerves singing in response as it felt like shocks ran through her body. kafka gasps loudly, unable to hold back her moans now as it almost felt like your hand was moving by itself. too far gone to put the pieces together even when your fingers begin to curl and thrust inside her, or when your thumb has suddenly begin to press against her clit at the same time.

her mouth hung open, panting breathlessly as her body felt like it was on fire. her hand wrapped helplessly around your wrist even as it moved by itself and her back arched, muscles flexing and her thighs trembled terribly. kafka was right on the edge, just a little more… just one more stroke, just one more thrust…

“agh…! fu—fuck, wha…!”

the woman felt every sensation in her body stop cold. before she’d knew it your hand was already ripped from her body, and her orgasm had come to a screeching halt. kafka nearly chokes, scrambling to her senses as she finally raises her head to face you.

from her flushed expression to her bare body, your cold eyes finally landed on your soaked fingers, covered in her wetness after having used it for her own pleasure. kafka watches with wide eyes; somewhere in her mind she understood that you had probably been awake for a while now, that you’d probably purposely fucked with her. brought her to the brink of an orgasm before ruthlessly ripping it away from her.

her heart pounds in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling as she waits for your next move, your next words. what will you with her now? she’s not that shameless to ask you to make her cum again after begin caught like that, but for whatever reason she could feel her pussy tightening again, waiting with anticipation of what you might do to her now.

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[huellitaa]

the importance of food: 30 reasons why you need to eat! ₊˚⊹♡

your body deserves nourishment. don't neglect it for an unattainable goal that will only hurt you in the long run.

protects ur heart

shields you from disease and infection

keeps you strong and active

you only live once to experience the joys of food! ♡

heals you from the inside out ♡

improves your mental wellbeing

improves your physical wellbeing

it just tastes good bro

when you eat healthy, you glow different ♡

growth and repair

helps you to heal from injuries

strong bones

strong teeth

helps to keep you energised and boost you through the day! ♡

maintains ur immune system

delays effects of aging

lengthens your life

increases gut health

increases focus

improved memory

protects crucial organs

positively affects ur mood ♡

makes you grow taller (sometimes)

fight off nutrient deficiencies

fight off certain health conditions

maintains cells in ur body

support brain function

increase brain health

you deserve to enjoy food and eat whatever you want as long as it keeps you healthy. you are more important than whatever ideals held up by the people around you or even just by urself. you're worth so much more than holding yourself to an impossible standard and not allowing yourself to eat because of other people's views. ♡

all my love , and don't forget to eat today !! 💖✨💘💗🎀💓

[ruporas]

hello hello! I hope you don't mind me dropping by but I just want to say I love your art so much, the way you draw vashwood is just so sweet and tender but can I just ramble about the way you draw Vash especially? More specifically, the way you draw his expressions when he's looking at Wolfwood???

I just LOVE the way you draw Vash's expression because the way you make him look at Wolfwood is so soft 😭😭😭. There's just something about it that's so tender, like whenever I look at Vash's expressions in your art I just think "that is genuinely someone who loves another person with all their heart" and it just mends and breaks my heart at once, you capture Vash's love for Wolfwood in ways I can't explain 👏

It's unbridled love mixed with the fear of hurting Wolfwood in their relationship. It's wanting to spill so much affection but holding back in fear of messing up. He looks at Wolfwood like he's longing for him so earnestly be it pre-relationship or even when they're already dating it's just so??? 💕💕💘💞💖💖💞💕

There's just something so tender and heart wrenching at the way Vash looks at Wolfwood in your art, it gets me really emotional and I hope you have a lovely day/night for real <33!!!

ouuuuu thank you so so much for your kind words and for taking the time to tell me this T_T !!! i'm glad my expressions for vash's longing gazes at wolfwood is well done enough to have this sort of response to it…

he's the kind of person that has to hold back in both words and touch when it comes to love, when it comes to wolfwood, but i think it's a difficult emotion to restrain, especially when wolfwood is kind enough to let it be.

ultimately, what they're allowed to have is the inevitable shared spaces during their travels, it's the other's physical presence, being next to wolfwood, being able to take him in through the way he simply exists. smelling smoke, seeing smoke, seeing the cigarette between his fingers, seeing the crosses littered across his person, the rosary snug around his neck, his scruff at his chin, messy bangs, messy hair, tired eyes, the canine that peeks when he speaks, and a voice carrying heavy words, but honest, and kind, and one vash could never get tired of hearing, like how he'd never be tired of just looking at wolfwood.

it's of gratitude, it's of sorrow, it's of grief, it's of love, praise, adoration, it's desperate and it's full of yearning. at first, it's a gaze he feels he has to be satisfied with until he's learned that he's allowed for more and at that point, when wolfwood has given him so much, how could he look at him in any other way?

in any case, i def like to make it known and parade around vash's deeeeeep deep deep feelings of love towards wolfwood, so i'm very happy to know i can express that clearly through his expression alone. i Also just love wolfwood so maybe the projection goes from the heart of the artist to the heart of the art.

i ended up collecting a few caps of his expressions just out of curiosity for myself :3 i have much to improve still, i'll keep on drawing vash's loving self until i can get the ultimate loving expression down!!

[vanyafresita]

happy pride !! here's a digital zine i made to compile short letters i wrote to some of the queer people in my life i hold close to my heart <3

[theloveinc]

tw: prostitution probs

OMG I know your shinsou drabble about him faking being your pimp for an undercover mission was like a little long ago, but it changed my atoms molecular structure

Like maybe you both are discussing what you've discovered that night on the couch you're sharing with the criminal and you hear somebody coming and than you gotta act like you're having... YKNOW??? 😫

Like maybe you noticed it first so then you like throw yourself on top of shinsou, fake moaning that sounds real, bouncing a little on top of him so the couch creeks a little to really sell it and it takes a little for shinsou to catch on but he's a mess because you sound real 😣😣😣

And from the criminal's POV, it's dark so he can't see your clothes that are on and is like well don't like me interrupt you before he heads back to whatever he came from 🤭

(link to ref. post here!)

SFAJKSDHJKAFDSHK it only takes him about five seconds to get the gist of the scene but... those five seconds change his entire perspective on the both of you, don't you think??

Because I think for the first few moments when he thinks it's real... he forms an entire confession in his head that's ready to spill from his lips just as fast, going hot where your hands splay on his chest, his cock jumping in his jeans when he tries to say your name. Even the hands he immediately puts on your hips to help guide you are genuine, not just to make the whole thing look... less pretend.

But then your eyes are shooting back down to his face and they're not filled with love or lust, they're filled with panic in waiting for him to play along....... and the whole moment he was able to build up comes crashing down, forcing him to realize exactly how he feels about you and....... how doomed your situation is, if you're gonna have to physically, now, keep up the charade rather than just label it.

(Especially because he's supposed to be the one in charge, the pimp, and it kinda makes him want to vomit thinking about treating you like something he owns, and yet he still has to pull himself together enough so that the criminal doesn't get suspicious if he actually acts like he loves you..............)

Then they're gone and you're all relieved (still sitting on his crotch) and now he has an entirely NEW problem that has to be faced (gasp, his feelings!!), and that's aside from the chub he's praying to god you can't feel.

Good. Grief.

[visceravalentines]

if I don't post this the passenger fic by midnight tonight you can all surround me in the parking lot and beat me with baseball bats

[weezerlvr228]

rivers if he was absorbed by poisonous gas but didn’t care too much

[bl-inkstone]

"when the fire takes and leave me nothing but ash, cup me in your loving palms and make me human again."

a short kaveh thoughtspost about you loving him, burnt edges and all.

i think loving kaveh, for all his brilliance and fancy, is exactly what loving an artist is like.

it's not uncommon for him to come home with tired eyes and aching, reaching limbs honed onto you. most nights, you like to tease him and compare your love to a particularly needy limpet, where not even the crashing waves of alhaitham's annoyance at his "shameless displays of affection" (punctuated by sharp, pointed remarks and long side-eyed glances) are enough to draw him from your side. he says he clings to you because he missed your warmth, and that not even the most potent of electro slimes could ever compare to the amount of energy you give with one embrace. you only laugh in return to his poetic musings with one hand raised to hide your flushed cheeks from sparkling red-wine eyes.

but what is uncommon, however, is the first night kaveh came to you, tired and aching and physically reaching as he always does, but hiding behind halfhearted eyes.

at first, you feared what you believed to be the worst: has he fallen out love? have i been lacking in some way? am i not good enough anymore?

he reached for you and held you, yes, but you could feel just from his touch alone just how distant his mind is from you. were you any weaker, you would've stayed quiet, unsure and hurting, and internalized all of these little unspoken things until the day you could not take anymore and leave behind your heart (your love, and only love) alone in the four walls of his shared home.

but you aren't.

so here you are now, with kaveh near-catatonic on the floor and your anxious, worried hands doing all you can to bring him back to you.

it's been a rough few days, weeks, months for kshahrewar's golden boy, chasing deadline after deadline and just barely maintaining his own self-imposed standard of quality, and kaveh is barely holding himself together. and try as he did to keep such unsightly matters away from you, you've noticed. you always do. and it's the sight of your worried, asking eyes and the sound of your voice flowing through him, "what's wrong, my heart? what is it? how can i help?" that finally breaks him.

he has never denied you anything (not his joy, his company, or his pleasure), and as loathe as he is for his weakness, he won't start now.

so kaveh falls to his knees, strangely disconnected from his body with frustration and fatigue raging in whatever hollow he left behind. he tilts forward when his strength leaves him (when he finally allows it to, after months of pushing more, just one more deadline—) and feels himself physically melt when you catch him in ready arms and hears the steady beat of your heart. his genius is a passionate, fiery thing, lighting the way to grander ventures and innovations that could lead sumeru's tomorrow, but just as all fires do, it burns.

but here, he thinks, in the scorched ground of your embrace that no fire could ever touch, he can rest.

kaveh hates to disturb or inconvenience you in any way — being his lover, he'd often joke with quick, unsure eyes and a crooked smile, is enough work already. but you recognize his doubts as well as you recognize your own. he can't fool you. not about this.

so, you reach down and curl yourself around him, guardian and shelter and lover all at once, and allow him refuge from the burning embers still glowing in the dredges of his beautiful, beautiful mind.

"it's alright," you kiss the reassurance into the crown of his tired head, heavy with the weight of all that he carries with his name as the light of kshahrewar. "take all the time you need, my love. the world can wait for you. rest."

dampness invades the cloth of your robes and you feel them, his gilded tears (always gilded, because everything about kaveh, even his grief, is golden) soak through the skin of your lap.

"i have so much work to do." his voice is a fragile, ruined thing.

"the world will wait, and i will help you. there is nothing you can't ask of me, kaveh."

"you already do so much," he gasps through a stuttering sob. "i will - i will not begrudge you, my heart, if you choose to..."

no. he can't say it. he doesn't want to say it. there's something to be said about the old warnings his elders had about not speaking ill fates into existence, and the fear that he almost did so makes him shake like a battered leaf, barely holding onto his branch, in the raging wind. he shakes and muffles sobs that tear at your heart, hoping you wouldn't hear and think any less of him (because you must, you must, oh, how could he ever show something so ugly to you), and you understand.

"i'm not going anywhere." the words leave you like dew falling off leaves after a storm, and they sting and soothe in the same breath the burns he's hidden for so long.

(am i good enough for you? is all i am enough for you? when my hands no longer hold my pens the same and my words escape me, and the clay has become too hard for me to shape, will you still love me then?)

"i'm here, kaveh. yours, for as long you'll have me, and you're mine, for as long as you'll allow."

forever, then. through the blur of his tears, he raises his head and presses himself, cheek and nose and crown, to your waiting hands like a devout believer laying worship to the first temple that has given him solace in years. forever, forever and ever until the sands of time erode whatever is left of us that loves away.

he drinks in the comfort of your shared silence, basks in the security that even now, at his worst and most unbecoming, you still love him enough to allow him this. his heart settles, slowly, and his mind calms into something less frenzied, less a forest fire, and into something he can recognize as himself again.

kaveh has always loved your hands, endlessly gentle and comforting as they are. he could recognize you blind, deaf, and mute, from the sheer comfort your touch brings him alone. he grasps them in his own calloused fingers and lays soft, grateful kisses to each segment, knuckle, and stretch of skin wound around it. it's these hands that have soothed his physical aches with skin-warmed salves and massages. it's these hands that have calmed his mind in the worst of his passionate genius, running careful fingers through golden strands and reminding him "that the mind can churn and charge all it wants, love, but the body has needs too." it's these hands that have cupped him, left as nothing but ash and bitter tears and dead dirt by his own fiery resolutions, and sculpted him into something human again.

i love you, he does not say because the weight of all the love he feels, both in him and from you, chokes him to silence. instead, he closes his watery eyes and presses himself closer, closer to you, and breathes.

he shakes again in your embrace, but more softly, this time. calloused fingers curl around yours in a desperate bid to keep you close, so much like the stubborn limpet you'd liken kaveh to during nights when the fires hadn't burned him yet, and you understand.

i love you too.

[i may not know much about kaveh, but he is very precious 2 me. i hope i did him some justice with this, and that you enjoyed reading it!]

[lilac-rose-writes]

41 with ozzison??? 🥺

of course! <33

41. "You did all of this for me?"

Ozzy had never been taken with the idea of throwing a party. Parties brought forth images of cramped spaces full of too many people making too much noise; food bowls covered in unwashed fingerprints and a sickly sweet cake that left frosting clinging to his tongue. He preferred quiet ceremonies: Christmases spent with his mom in a living room bathed in warm light, birthdays where his friends came over and played Monstermon for a while. The unpredictability of a party was daunting, and Ozzy avoided them wherever possible.

…On the other hand, Madison adored parties. She squealed over the decorations and gifts, delighting in games and songs. Ozzy never understood why she liked them so much, but the fact remained that she did. And, well. Ozzy had missed her over the past few days. His routine had been interrupted, his closest friends had disappeared, and the last time he’d seen Madison, she’d been coated in a disgusting green slime. Ozzy knew that if he had been subjected to such a horror, he would be distraught. Madison deserved a bit of cheering up, no matter how Ozzy felt about her preferred way of having fun.

To his surprise, planning a party was something he enjoyed. Ozzy had a chance to regulate it all, making tweaks and changes to ensure Madison had the best time possible while minimising the germs that would inevitably crawl all over them both. Recruiting his mother for assistance, Ozzy handed out begrudging invitations to those in his class, prepared streamers and balloons, then directed Madison to where the party had been set up.

“Where are we going?” She’d asked curiously, trying to look through the gaps in the hands over her eyes.

“No peeking!” Ozzy replied, avoiding the question and feeling a thrum of excitement shoot through him. While this was definitely a deviation from his routine, it was one he could control, and that made all the difference. He couldn’t wait to see how Madison would react.

Ozzy removed his hands from over her eyes with a flourish, watching in antsy anticipation as her mouth dropped open in awe. Excitement flooded through her face like a tidal wave, those emerald eyes sparkling as she took in the set-up. Madison seemed largely undeterred by the bored antics of the party’s attendees, gasping at the enormous, colourful “WELCOME BACK!” banner and assorted cupcakes. Ozzy couldn’t help but puff up a little as she turned to beam at him.

“You did all of this… for me?” Madison asked breathlessly, her huge smile wobbling with tears. At the sight of them, alarm spiked in Ozzy’s chest.

“Don’t cry!” He exclaimed worriedly, eyebrows drawing together. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d like–”

“These are happy tears!” She interrupted with a laugh, and before Ozzy knew what was happening, she’d crashed into him for a hug. “I love it. Thank you, Ozzy.” She mumbled into his sweater.

Ozzy flushed, pride welling in his chest. “I missed you,” he admitted quietly, slowly returning Madison’s right embrace. He’d forgotten how marvellously warm her hugs were.

“I missed you too!” She replied, drawing away again and looking at the party decorations. Something in the far corner caught her eye, and she began to positively vibrate with excitement. “Ooh, what are those?”

And Ozzy was so caught up in the lingering warmth Madison had left in his heart, he didn’t think to wonder when she’d last washed her hands until three hours after the party came to close.

[felixferitas]

@ourpretender: ❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜ ( either about venetia whilst at saltburn *or* if annabelle & oliver actually slept together that night and felix found out back at oxford ... )

his arms crossed as he sunbathes in the deckchair with the raybans sitting on his nose hiding any expression of vulnerability, felix is the epitome of calm, cool, collected. at least, at first glance. he's drawn into himself, jaw and shoulders set as a tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. "well, lucky for the both of us, you bloody do well know better." or maybe he didn't. oliver always seemed so smart and attentive, considerate, even if he wasn't as people-smart as felix was. or at least that's what felix had thought before this happened and farleigh relayed all the sordid details of what he'd seen. he's not pouting, he's not upset. this was merely expected by now, that's all. felix had gotten his hopes up that this summer would be lovely and not filled with personal betrayal for once. "jealous? tell me, did i do something to you? i just -- don't understand where this is all coming from. did i make you feel lacking, in some way? so you had to take something from me to get even?"