#slow burn sustain me pls

[sincerelystesichorus]

big reputation - halstarion fic + moodboard lmao

"Remember, I’m your friend, here…” Astarion muttered, leaning in to begin picking the neck chain’s mechanism. Astarion’s throat ran dry. His breathing was shaky. He miserably hoped the bear didn’t notice. The clasp came undone in Astarion's hands, the chain then falling to the floor with a clank. An orange burst of light appeared before them, bringing a sense of relief to the party. This was him then. Halsin. A silhouette of a large man appeared in the light, truly confirming it, and as the light faded, Astarion let out a surprised scream as the massive elf suddenly dived forward and tackled him. ~ (Or, Halsin and Astarion reunite, after curious and bitter circumstances a century ago. Give or take.)

4.7k words. Enemies to friends to lovers. Slow burn. Mild canon divergence. Alternate first meetings. Angsty. The one where I write so many words of them trying to kill each other and then chilling out.

[Installment 3 in my Bloodbear saga (: Each chapter is its own separate character study for the dear and awful vampire, but it definitely holds more weight altogether.

pt. 1

series page]

⭑

[fabrowrites]

For the ask game: you've got an improbable number of fics I'm not caught up on, so here comes a great big shiny

⭐

Hi Lila! tysm! you get the director's cut of Dosimetry!

Together they don their suits, gather their equipment, and ascend the ladder to the topside. Golden light floods down on them from seemingly everywhere at once, leaving no shadows to hide in. Kai’s breath hitches as the ruined point of Borg Tower rises into view. He hasn’t returned since that fateful day. or: Kai and Nya at the end of the world

So Dosimetry was originally written for a writing prompt challenge of "write about a ninja merging with their element." I chose Lloyd :D

The story takes place in an alternate s3, specifically canon-divergent post Enter the Digiverse. We open in media res with Kai and Nya, because I'm predictable XD

“I’m going up,” Kai says, throwing his jacket onto the bed as he enters their shared room.

Two things immediately:

"I'm going up" creates a "below" where Kai and the reader are

He's sharing a room with someone, implying (a) a lack of space and/or (b) a desire to be close to someone else.

Behind him, Nya’s pen clatters to the table.   “I’m coming too.” Kai freezes.  “No,” he says, spinning around.  “No, you can’t.  You don’t have any powers.” Nya gives him a sharp glare.  “Like fire is going to protect you out there,” she retorts, standing.

Dew from NWoD actually commented on this when she was reading Dosimetry, but there's not very much setting or description at the beginning (or really for the whole fic). This is due to the fact that I am (a) bad at descriptions, (b) limited by the challenge's word count, and (c) actually trying to create a sense of emptiness and utility.

Kai shoves the manhole cover aside.  Golden light floods down on them from seemingly everywhere at once, leaving no shadows to hide in.  It sets off his EPD counter’s mechanical clicking – slow, good.  It’s impossible not to trigger it on the topside, but as long as it stays this slow, they’re safe. Well, as safe as one can be when exposed to the criticality.

a little nod to the s3 manhole scene! we're also dropping some more terms that, if you combine them with the title, might start to paint a picture of what's going on.

It’s not the criticality.  Their counters would be going haywire if it were.  But there’s more than just exposure to worry about on the topside – only the desperate linger up here, and he edges in front of Nya, reaching for his sword.  Fire is dangerous here, bright and bold and full of energy as it is.  Behind him, he hears Nya readying her chakram.

This is just me begging Lego to let Nya use chakram again pls pls she'd be so cool

Click. Click, click, click click clickclick clickclickclickclickclick – Kai’s head snaps up.  His horrified eyes find Nya’s. Light as bright as the sun, light that burns a hole through the universe.  Light that thralls, that dazzles, that kills.

aw ye here we go! it's criticality time baby :D I actually really like how I formatted this part back when I was experimenting with Transfiguration compared to ao3.

In case it hasn't come together for you yet, we're dealing with an entire nuclear disaster situation here :D

You can actually blame Markiplier for this one, like the dominoes meme. I watched his video playing the Liquidators a summer ago and was hooked (here's my plug to go watch Kyle Hill on YouTube if you want to follow me down this rabbit hole XD) As explained by Wikipedia, which does it much better than I can:

Criticality occurs when sufficient fissile material (a critical mass) accumulates in a small volume such that each fission, on average, produces a neutron that in turn strikes another fissile atom causing another fission; this causes the chain reaction to become self-sustaining within the mass of material.

A critical mass accumulated in a small volume.

All the energy of creation, merged with one small body.

(Dosimetry, by the way, is "the measurement, calculation and assessment of the ionizing radiation dose absorbed by an object, usually the human body" - Wikipedia, emphasis added by me.)

A boy with unseeing golden eyes reaches out his hands. “W H Y  A M  I  A L O N E?  W H E R E  A R E  Y O U?”

The final lines of the criticality are a callback to "Enter the Digiverse."

Lloyd: I am not alone. I am not alone.

So that's Dosimetry! ad;fksjlgasdhjl this got way out of hand but thanks for letting me ramble, lila! this was really fun :D

[canonrpfinder]

↜ ♫ come and get your love... ♫ ↝

maybe it's the summer or whatever but HECK do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm a 30+ trans dude and yee local homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating a private server for me and my partner where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is never required that you write a whole ass novel just because I insist on doing so. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples. pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

for this specific hankering - romance, M x F, CC x CC and post-GOTG3 primarily. ships in particular include such as;

your ★ Adam Warlock, Peter Quill, Thor or Loki against my ✦ Gamora.

your ★ Adam Warlock, James Rhodes or Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula;

and... others, honestly. Wolverine, T'Challa, Shang-Chi, Clint? I'm open to it. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you wanna with My Gals, feel free to come at me! trust and believe I have so many ideas for tossing both Gam and Nebs at people!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

✒️

[findroleplay]

↜ ♫ come and get your love... ♫ ↝

maybe it's the summer or whatever but HECK do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm a 30+ trans dude and yee local homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating a private server for me and my partner where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is never required that you write a whole ass novel just because I insist on doing so. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples. pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

for this specific hankering - romance, M x F, CC x CC and post-GOTG3 primarily. ships in particular include such as;

your ★ Adam Warlock, Peter Quill, Thor or Loki against my ✦ Gamora.

your ★ Adam Warlock, James Rhodes or Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula;

and... others, honestly. Wolverine, T'Challa, Shang-Chi, Clint? I'm open to it. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you wanna with My Gals, feel free to come at me! trust and believe I have so many ideas for tossing both Gam and Nebs at people!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

-

[yo-aroleplayfinder]

★ spread my ashes to the stars... ★

maybe it's the summer or whatever but holy Hell do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask and has never really gotten traction before but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm yee regular, 30+ trans dude and homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating lil' servers for me and my partners where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is not required that you write a whole ass novel just because I do. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples, pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

M x F and CC x CC primarily, for such rareships as;

your ★ Adam Warlock against my ✦ Gamora; it seems bizarre, I know, but I'd love to explore these two in a post-GOTG3 world. two people who don't really feel like they belong, like they were made against their will, and are now finding their way, their place and their home in the world, possibly together. definite potential for strictly platonic stuff, even if I'm primarily lookin' for romance.

your ★ Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula; this ship lives in my head rent free. I have many thoughts for this, among the many a setting where Kraglin gets injured and Nebs has to come face to face with her emotions... but I'll leave the rest for DMs. >:3c

and... others, honestly. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you think would work with My Gals, feel free to come at me!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

YO YO YO LIKE THA POST N ANON WILL REACH OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[roleplayfinder]

★ spread my ashes to the stars... ★

maybe it's the summer or whatever but holy Hell do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask and has never really gotten traction before but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm yee regular, 30+ trans dude and homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating lil' servers for me and my partners where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is not required that you write a whole ass novel just because I do. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples, pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

M x F and CC x CC primarily, for such rareships as;

your ★ Adam Warlock against my ✦ Gamora; it seems bizarre, I know, but I'd love to explore these two in a post-GOTG3 world. two people who don't really feel like they belong, like they were made against their will, and are now finding their way, their place and their home in the world, possibly together. definite potential for strictly platonic stuff, even if I'm primarily lookin' for romance.

your ★ Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula; this ship lives in my head rent free. I have many thoughts for this, among the many a setting where Kraglin gets injured and Nebs has to come face to face with her emotions... but I'll leave the rest for DMs. >:3c

and... others, honestly. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you think would work with My Gals, feel free to come at me!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

.

[roleplay-today]

★ spread my ashes to the stars... ★

maybe it's the summer or whatever but holy Hell do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask and has never really gotten traction before but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm yee regular, 30+ trans dude and homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating lil' servers for me and my partners where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is not required that you write a whole ass novel just because I do. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples, pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

M x F and CC x CC primarily, for such rareships as;

your ★ Adam Warlock against my ✦ Gamora; it seems bizarre, I know, but I'd love to explore these two in a post-GOTG3 world. two people who don't really feel like they belong, like they were made against their will, and are now finding their way, their place and their home in the world, possibly together. definite potential for strictly platonic stuff, even if I'm primarily lookin' for romance.

your ★ Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula; this ship lives in my head rent free. I have many thoughts for this, among the many a setting where Kraglin gets injured and Nebs has to come face to face with her emotions... but I'll leave the rest for DMs. >:3c

and... others, honestly. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you think would work with My Gals, feel free to come at me!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

[xpouii]

Spit Take

Hey y’all! I really put my nose into this fic to get it finished. It was commissioned by (anonymous) and I hope you like it! The prompt was amazing!

Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Dukexiety, Prinxiety, full NSFW warnings below the cut!

Warnings: Spit kink, tentacle dick, cum play, rough, bulging (stomach and throat), deepthroating, gagging, choking, drooling, crying, masturbation, voyeurism/slight exhibitionism, toys

           “Kiddo!” Patton called as he stepped out of the kitchen. “We’re having a movie night… care to join us? I made cookies.”

           “Yes, Virgil,” Logan echoed. “You don’t have to wear a onesie if you don’t want to. Patton just has an affinity for them for some reason.”

           “Like you don’t?” Roman muttered, flipping through the menu of available movies. “Did we decide what we’re watching?”

           “March of the Penguins,” Logan said. “It’s the only possible compromise. There’s scientific information, aesthetically pleasing animals and it’s narrated by Morgan Freeman.”

           “Aww penguins!” Patton gasped.

           “I wanted to watch Aladdin, but…” Roman chewed the inside of his mouth, “You do have a point about Morgan Freeman. His voice is just so soothing!”

           Logan seemed pleased with himself as he picked up a cookie from the large plate of them. Virgil reminded himself to sneak back out later and help himself once the others had gone to bed. Patton clapped his hands together, “Great I’m so proud we agreed right away! I can’t wait to watch these adorable penguins with my best friends. So what do you say, Virgil? Penguins do wear a lot of black, and there’s an empty spot on the couch with your name on it! Not literally but if you give me five minutes and some glitter pens I could whip something up.”

           “You?” Roman scoffed. “What about me? You’re going to make an artistic gift for Virgil without me?”

           Patton smiled warmly at Roman and patted his knee, “Of course not, Roman. You’re my favorite artist!”

           “Uh… gee Pat that sounds great but I’ve got stuff to do,” Virgil said. They were all looking at him then, Logan with his cool, matter-of-fact interest and Roman with a look that Virgil still hadn’t decrypted. The Prince would catch his eyes sometimes, especially across the room or in the middle of a group conversation, and Virgil felt cold and hot, invited and accused all at once. It was hard not to slip into a sneer and snap like he used to. Old habits die hard, especially in frightened animals, but Virgil wanted to be the light side they had invited him to be. That just hadn’t quite extended to movie nights and cookies yet, so he ducked his head and hustled off to his room, kicking it shut behind himself. He’d left the kitchen on a mission after all.

           Virgil locked his door, pulling up his hood before walking over and sitting on the edge of his bed; he closed his eyes and smiled softly, his mind swimming with slow memories, nostalgia that skated like fingertips over his skin. His legs opened, an automatic response as he slid his hand down to palm himself through his jeans; tingling heat swam over him and he whined, his fingers quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He moaned at the relief of pressure but it was short-lived as he hardened fully. Virgil pulled himself free of his underwear and spat into his hand. More memories, more heat as he wrapped his slick hand over his cock and stroked slowly, letting out a little chuckle of disbelief at just how good it felt. Virgil was usually much more interested in being with somebody than touching himself—it required a certain amount of self-interest that he struggled with—but he was in a bit of a transitional period, new friends and new… faces.

           Logan, Patton and Roman weren’t anything like the others, although Patton and Logan often wrestled for the top spot—at least that’s how it looked to Virgil when he was fresh from the subconscious, after he’d been accepted, but now he knew that Patton was in charge in a far different way than Deceit, especially considering Patton had little idea just how much sway he held over Thomas’ decisions. Then there was Roman, Remus’ parasitic twin—as they used to call him downstairs—but so completely different. Where Remus felt unshakable confidence, Roman was a ball of insecurity. Where Remus liked to sneak up on a conversation, Roman burst into the room like a confetti canon, scattering fanfare and nicknames. Where Virgil had found casual companionship in Remus, his feelings for about Roman were complicated at best, and terrifying at worst. When Roman had given his little speech of encouragement in Virgil’s room, it wasn’t his cock that twitched. It was his heart, and wasn’t that just the worst. At least with Remus, things were simple.

           An easy moan escaped his lips and he couldn’t help but rock up into his hand, a slow sustained rhythm that he stopped only to gather the precum from the head of his cock and spread it downward. It used to always be this easy, smiles and moans and letting go. Anxiety was Thomas’ problem, and Virgil had always been happy to let it choke Thomas rather than analyzing, tweaking and dealing with it. Back then, he’d been Deceit’s—and Remus’, and he’d been a simpler, saucier creature. Even when he would mess up and get caught up in his own web of panic, and when Deceit’s gentle petting and encouraging words weren’t enough, Remus knew exactly how to fix the problem. Virgil’s smart little mouth had always been good for more than spitting vitriol and sarcasm, and Remus knew exactly how to drag it out—or push it in—in the best ways. Virgil raised his free hand and slipped two fingers into his mouth, moaning around them as he pressed against his tongue, thrusting them back and forth until they started to tickle that fluttery feeling in his chest, caught between swallowing and coughing, gagging and moaning—just like old times.

 ---

           When Virgil came to him, Remus knew exactly what he wanted. His eyes were dark, red-rimmed and his lips were in a full pout, wet and reddened by chewing, absolutely begging, “What is it, Emo?”

           Virgil unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off, pulling his shirt over his head; he knelt in front of Remus, a question in his eyes, spilling out in a throaty whisper, “Are you busy?”

           “Too busy for you? Never,” Remus said, sliding his fingers through Virgil’s hair, gathering it so he could take in Virgil’s face. He was pale, but a blush sat high on his cheeks, and his eyes were darker than usual, the black makeup smeared all the way down to his cheekbones and streaked down by a drying tear or two of frustration. Remus always thought this Virgil was the most beautiful, so true to himself, so overtaken by his purpose and his instincts that even Deceit couldn’t suppress him, and he was begging Remus to fuck his mouth and let the wild brambles of the anxious side’s mind grow uninhibited until Remus choked it all away.

           Virgil’s full lips twitched into the tiniest wisp of a smile as he reached for Remus’ pants. The creative side slapped his hand away gently, and lost his clothes via magic. He would rather be naked anyway—given the chance. His cock, so familiar to Virgil by now, was just as eldritch as anything else Remus had any kind of control over, a tentacle that—according to the creative side—had a mind all its own. Virgil was fairly convinced that Remus was perfectly in control of himself, cock and otherwise. It traced Virgil’s lips and the anxious side opened his mouth, closing his eyes as the first hints of the familiar taste touched his tongue. He opened wider to accommodate the tapered organ as it pushed further, heavy on his tongue and writhing against every surface of his mouth, exploring and giving Virgil that familiar stomach flutter.

           Remus’ hand at the back of his head made him calm, tension easing as Remus took control; all he had to do was be present. The taste of precum made him moan, and Remus pulled back, making Virgil lean forward to chase his cock. He was hungry for it, entirely tunnel-visioned, and Remus chuckled, “Impatient, Emo?”

           “Please,” Virgil whined, his mouth feeling achingly empty around every sound he made. “Please Remus, I want it. Pl-“

           His words were cut off when Remus thrust back in, and Virgil fought his gag reflex as Remus’ cock slid past the back of his tongue to bump against the back of his throat, one swift surprising movement. He opened his throat, eager to be filled, to be used. Remus’ cock squirmed in his throat and he relaxed more as he felt the skin of his throat stretch and bulge to accommodate the hot, heavy organ. He moaned as best he could, his voice warped and layered by the overwhelming juxtaposition of pleasure and humiliation. Virgil looked up at Remus with lust-heavy eyes, his cheeks hot and his eyes were burning with the promise of choked tears already.

           Remus backed up just enough to let Virgil breathe, and he could feel a mix of precum and drool sliding down his chin. He sucked in a breathe before Remus was inside again, and his eyes rolled back to stare up at Remus, glassy and grateful. It went on like this, drooling and gagging and the occasional hissed praise from Remus while Virgil spun out into the warm, safe headspace where he could forget himself.

Remus reached down and took a handful of Virgil’s hair, pulling him backward. Virgil whined in complaint, Remus’ cock sliding against his cheek as he slowly lifted his face; he knew what Remus wanted, and he opened his mouth, letting his tongue loll out as Remus spat into his mouth.

           “How’s it taste, Virgil?”

           “So fucking good. Thank you, thank you,” Virgil slurred open-mouthed. He made a show of swallowing, tossing his head back.

Remus leaned down to licked Virgil’s bottom lip before capturing his mouth in a deep, possessive kiss that left Virgil breathless. He broke it and stood back up and Virgil leaned back, opening his mouth again to beg silently, knowing he was already a mess of drool and tears, beautiful and destroyed.

           “Hungry tonight aren’t you, Emo?” Remus chuckled, his cock sliding back into Virgil’s mouth, sweet on his tongue as Remus made his first thrust, cutting off Virgil’s ability to breathe or even swallow. He looked down at Virgil, combing his hair back again. Virgil met his eyes, lost in Remus’ commanding gaze.

           The racing of his heart replaced any of the unpleasant tightness in his chest, and Virgil fully relaxed when Remus reached down to place his hand on the side of Virgil’s neck, pressing against the bulge from outside. Virgil’s eyes rolled back and he closed them, melting away into sensation and heat, more of a plaything for Remus than a functioning being—and that’s how Virgil wanted it for now. Forgetting everything outside of this room, the sounds and tastes and smells of sex were like a merciful smokescreen.

           And then Virgil felt the familiar signals, throbbing and lost rhythm, and he groaned in his chest, anticipating what was coming—literally. Remus always came so much, and Virgil could almost never swallow it all at once, but he always tried. After a few spurts Remus pulled back and shot across Virgil’s face while the anxious side eagerly swallowed what was in his mouth, “Yes Remus please give it to me, give me more, want to taste you!”

           Remus growled as he thrust back into Virgil’s mouth and down his throat. Once. Twice, and then he pulled out, connected by a line of thick spit to Virgil’s wet lips. He knelt then, reaching to wrap his hand to palm Virgil through his pants. Virgil groaned and humped against Remus’ hand while the creative side cleaned his face, licking away the hot stripes of his spend. Remus captured his lips in a commanding kiss and Virgil got another mouthful of cum. He jerked in Remus’ grip as he came, choking as he swallowed and cried out at the same time. Remus muttered gentle nonsense as he rubbed Virgil through his orgasm and beyond, toying with the wet spot on Virgil’s jeans.

           “Th-thank-“ Virgil stammered.

           Remus stood and pulled Virgil to his feet, helping him to the bed where he was nestled in a pile of abandoned vellum and leather and silk. Remus kissed him on the nose and then gently stripped Virgil, “How about a nice hot springs full of demon octopi? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

           “More demon octopi?” Virgil hummed with a smile. “I’d love that.”

           Remus swept him up and sunk out, reappearing in one of his little corners of the imagination where the air was heavy with steam. Virgil sighed as he was lowered into hot water, muscles he didn’t know were tense melted into warm butter. “Anything else, Emo? A drink?”

           Virgil stretched, “I wouldn’t say no to a pineapple juice.”

           “Good idea, keep tasting sweet for me,” Remus mused, conjuring a glass and handing it to Virgil.

           Virgil sank into the sensation as several red tentacles found his legs, waist and chest in a deep—astoundingly innocent—massage. He let his head fall back, “Thank you, Remus, so much.”

           “For you, anything.”

 ---

           Virgil squirmed when his hand alone wasn’t enough, frustrating and disappointing as he rutted in his bed, mussing his black sheets. The memory of a thousand touches only made him want more, and he grabbed his sweaty pillow and threw it across the room, not comforted in the least by his little outburst. He kicked off his shoes, struggling with his jeans and underwear but not bothering with his hoodie. He was pulled so perfectly between arousal and frustration that his hand moved of its own volition, squeezing and twisting in hopes of finding some sensation that would push past the plateau where he hovered in sensual agony.

           Finally Virgil made himself stop just long enough to reach for the nightstand and yank open the drawer, fetching the toy he kept there. It was tapered, but it couldn’t compare to Remus’ size—or dexterity. He set it on his stomach and reached back for the lube, popping it open. He arched his back to get two slicked fingers into himself. The prep was quick, unceremonious and then he lubed up the toy, rolling onto his side and moaning involuntarily at the feel of it pressed at his entrance. He rocked down against it, deeper each time until it breached him, and he moved it manually then, in and out a few times before he got it positioned just right, turning on the vibrations. It was almost a relief to feel something, although it would never be enough. He cranked it up and his mouth fell open in a silent moan, his hips working as if he could get it deeper by will alone.

           The toy was nowhere near as big as Remus, but when he rocked just right it nudged his prostate in a familiar way, and his body remembered as much as his mind—unfortunately his body remembered all too well exactly what it was missing. The girth, the weight and the heat. He wondered what Remus would say, watching him whine and writhe like an emptyheaded—and empty-assed—slut. He’d no doubt have a comment, and Virgil was almost glad the creative side wasn’t there to see him. There was no way—horny and even a little homesick in a super fucked up way—that he’d be able to resist Remus’ offers even though Deceit had made it very clear that Remus was on his side of the line in the sand.  

           Pushing bad memories away, Virgil let himself think about Remus’ cock, and the cold jab of Deceit faded—for the night, at least. The anxious side had always been a size queen; Remus wasn’t just enough to bulge his throat, and memories of the tight tug inside made him chew his bottom lip. He slipped his free hand down to his stomach where he would be able to feel Remus pushing, bumping into his palm with every thrust, knocking the breath—and several filthy words—out of him. He gasped now as if he could feel it, and his body shook, his eyes burning as he squeezed them shut, pressing a fist to his mouth. He wanted to be shamelessly loud, but shameless was never really Virgil’s specialty, even back then.          

 ---

           Virgil glanced around in the dim light as Remus tugged him along by his hand; they had snuck upstairs into the livingroom where Deceit forbade them to go. The sharp jaws of adrenaline had him by the throat, and fight or flight melted into nothing when Remus turned to face him, “Clothes off, Emo.”

           Virgil shed his clothes tossing them in a pile on the floor as Remus magicked his own away, pulling Virgil in by the back of his neck. The kiss was feral, teeth and tongues and Virgil dug his blunt nails into Remus’ chest. When Remus pushed him to the couch, Virgil stammered, “H-how long do you think we have?”

           Remus shrugged, “Deceit won’t be looking for us until tomorrow if we’re lucky.”

           “I mean… the others.”

           “You mean those light sides?” Remus purred. “Why? Want them to watch?”

           Virgil blushed and the humiliation sent a pleasant spark through his body, but the time for talking was over—temporarily anyway. He moved into position on his knees, arms crossed to brace him against the arm of the couch. He relaxed into the position, trying to calm his racing heart until the touch of Remus’ hand on his back calmed him. Remus’ cock moved up against his own, a reminder of just how big he was, and Virgil reached down to stroke it lazily as Remus prepped him. Tentacles had never appealed to Virgil before he’d started things with Remus, but now the way it pressed into his touches and writhed like a sentient being—perhaps it was—was more than sexy, it was endearing, and Virgil couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched his lips. Remus was leaking precum already, much wetter than Virgil could get without at least a little assplay, and it made Virgil’s hand slick and sticky.  

           Remus pulled back then and Virgil almost complained, but then Remus’ cock was stretching him open and he let out a low, shuddering moan as he wrapped his hand around his own cock. The heavy member was undulating, writhing, massaging Virgil in all of the right ways, and he moaned into the couch arm, stroking himself slowly. It was more habit and comfort than out of a need to cum; when Remus was splitting him, there was no chance that he wouldn’t have an orgasm, sometimes multiple and often without much substantial warning. Then Remus was bottoming out, and Virgil could feel him so deep that he lowered his hand to his stomach where a familiar bulge was, crawling underneath his skin, “Fuck, Remus.”

           “Isn’t it nice?” Remus purred. “Stretching you, filling you up like the hungry little slut you are. How’s it feel, Emo?”

           “It’s… it’s—good!” Virgil hiccupped as Remus moved, drawing almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward and sinking back in, and the bulge retreated and returned, sending another ache of arousal through Virgil’s cock. “You know it’s good.”

           “I like when you say it,” Remus said, settling into a staggered rhythm to keep Virgil guessing. “Besides, what else are we going to talk about?”

           Virgil’s eyes rolled back and he bit his lip, letting out a nervous giggle, “The w-weather?”

           “Too boring,” Remus said, smacking Virgil’s ass. “Unless you want me to conjure a tornado or something. I think we should talk about getting caught, don’t you? Those sticks in the mud won’t know what to do, seeing me fuck you in their space like this. I bet Patton will just fucking die right then and there. My brother will be jealous because he’ll never get close to anything as gorgeous as you, isn’t that right, Emo?”

           Virgil yelped at a particularly deep thrust and the words spilled from him, “Remus we’re gonna… gonna get caught.”

           “Telling me you wouldn’t like that? The looks on their faces?” Remus growled, tangling his fingers in Virgil’s hair and yanking his head back.

           “I… I don’t know,” Virgil panted, too ashamed of the real answer.

           Remus ran the nails of his free hand down Virgil’s back, “That’s what I thought. You like being my pretty little whore, don’t you? You’d love for me to show you off.”

           “Shit,” Virgil growled, because it was true, and sometimes it terrified Virgil just how easily Remus could read him.

           “You never disappoint, Emo,” Remus said. “And you always say all of my favorite words.”

           “I haven’t said twatwaffle one time,” Virgil said, a smile on his lips.

           Remus laughed, leaning down to kiss the back of Virgil’s neck, then up behind his ear; Remus got sweet when Virgil made him laugh. Deceit had told Virgil once it was the way to his heart—but that wasn’t where Virgil was aiming, so he shivered and pushed himself back into Remus’ thrusts. “Somebody’s impatient.”

           “Come on, Remus,” Virgil said, as sweet and subby as he’d ever been. “Please give me your cock, please fuck me hard. It’s so good I want more, want everything.”

           Remus growled in his throat and took Virgil’s bait, though he was far from trapped; he shoved Virgil’s face into the arm of the couch roughly and fucked into him with a renewed domination that made Virgil’s cock jump and leak and ache with arousal. “Is this what you want?”

           “Yes,” Virgil muttered into the fabric. Remus’ nails were back in his back and he choked out a cry, “Yes! Yes please!”      

           Remus bit into Virgil’s shoulder as he came, and Virgil could feel it, hot and thick and there was a lot, filling him up like he’d begged for. He sobbed and barely had time to process the sensation before he himself was cumming, dirtying the couch under them and managing to milk more from Remus in the process until they were both rutting and growling like animals—and maybe animals is what they were. Remus pulled out and Virgil could feel the spend tickling down his inner thigh before Remus nudged him forward and he lifted his ass higher into the air, lowering his face into the couch cushions.

           Remus’ tongue was hot and probably longer than it should be, but the way it felt had Virgil rocking back while the creative side sucked the cum out of him. When Remus pulled back Virgil whimpered, but soon he was being pushed onto his back and his mouth fell open. He looked up into Remus’ eyes, lolling out his tongue. Remus’ eyes darkened and he let the cum drool down into Virgil’s waiting mouth. Virgil’s eyes rolled back as the sensation fought against his own refractory period, and his cock gave a lazy twitch. Once he’d taken everything Remus offered, he rolled it around his mouth, curling his tongue at the corner of his mouth before finally closing and swallowing.            

           “Such a good boy”, Remus cooed, swiping his thumb through the cum that had escaped at the corner of Virgil’s mouth. He pressed his thumb into Virgil’s mouth and the anxious side eagerly sucked it clean, floating on the cloud of praise.

           “Thank you,” Virgil said again, softer and with a deeper, warmer meaning. He stretched then reached up for Remus.

           Remus lowered himself to kiss Virgil, quick and chaste—if anything they did could be called chaste. Virgil melted into the affection and let himself be held. The couch wasn’t particularly deep, but Remus managed to maneuver them into a comfortable spooning position, pulling Virgil against his chest. The beating of Remus’ heart and the sound of their breathing as it slowed to normal brought Virgil down gently, and when he’d had enough, he squirmed in Remus’ arms, turning onto his back as much as he could without falling off of the couch.

           Remus watched Virgil’s face, prompting the anxious side to smile, “I’m good, just gonna take another second. You should go make sure Deceit’s not looking for us.”

           “Perish the thought,” Remus said sarcastically, but he smiled as he climbed over Virgil to stand. “I’ll go make sure Snake Daddy is none the wiser.”

           Virgil stretched out, licking his lips clean for the final time as Remus sank out. He sat up slowly, careful to wave away the wet spot before he grabbed his pants, pulling them on. Dressing wasn’t easy on shaky legs, but that made it more satisfying, especially layered with the possibility of getting caught.

           As if on cue, Virgil’s ears caught the smallest drag of a shoe on the carpet. He spun around, eyes searching the darkness around him for a threat. Roman stood in the darkened doorway, hand on the hilt of his sword; his hair and eyes made it clear he’d probably been asleep—maybe at his desk the way Remus did sometimes. He was pretty, Virgil couldn’t deny that—dashing, maybe, but a poor imitation of Remus. The prince met Virgil’s eyes and Virgil hesitated, staring at the other side before pulling up his hood and sinking into the floor.

 ---

           Suddenly the deep vibrations were too much, and Virgil cried out, reaching back to turn it off and take it out. He was shaking, unsure whether it was the memory of Remus or Roman that had caused the sudden spike. Virgil huffed in frustration, and his straining cock regained his attention. He couldn’t stop now just because he was trying to deny a possible partial crush on his old fuck buddy’s twin brother. Wrapping his hand back around himself, Virgil tried to slip away, find another memory to turn himself on just that last little bit. After three minutes of desperate self-searching, Virgil sighed, “Fuck.”

           He let that little mental block fade away, and the memory turned to fantasy, and the thrill of it zinged up into his chest and down to his toes, making them curl. He worked himself a bit slower, letting things play out.

---

           Virgil locked eyes with Roman, in the dark, and Roman’s nose wrinkled, just a little, because he knew. The prince unsheathed his sword, stepping forward and holding it to Virgil’s throat, “Care to explain yourself, foul fiend?”

           Virgil took a half-step back and sank to his knees; Roman looked pleased with himself, but his mouth fell open in surprise when Virgil nuzzled his cock through his pants. He tensed, but rather than taking a step back, he sheathed his sword and rested his hand on the back of Virgil’s head. Virgil undid Roman’s pants easily, pulling his cock free and covering it in kisses and kitten licks until the Prince was fully hard and pushing at the back of Virgil’s head. Virgil hummed and took Roman into his mouth and down his throat. He tasted nothing like Remus, none of the tingling magic eldritch qualities, but more like a man with impeccable hygiene who also spends the better part of his days trapesing through enchanted forests, earthy and spiced and—for lack of a better term—masculine.

           Roman growled, and Virgil gagged when he thrust forward, holding Virgil in place. Whether it was warped hate, or Roman was just naturally rough, Virgil was lost in it. He managed to pull back when Roman allowed him to breathe, “Fuck!”

           Roman smirked, “What’s the matter, Anxiety? Too big?”

           Virgil laughed breathlessly, rocking back onto his heels and standing. He stripped off his clothes and moved to the couch, reaching to brace himself on the couch arm. Strong hands took his hips and moved him like he was weightless, and before Virgil knew it he was on his back with Roman slotted between his legs. He closed his eyes tightly and turned his face away. “What are you looking at?”

           Roman snorted, and lips on Virgil’s collarbone made his bottom lip tremble, “Where’d that brave little monster go?”

           Virgil bristled and leaned up, capturing Roman’s lips in a rough kiss and biting down on his bottom lip. Roman tangled his fingers into Virgil’s hair and pulled. Virgil gasped when Roman broke the kiss and looked down to line himself up. “Fuck yeah give it to me,” Virgil whispered, following the Prince’s actions with eager eyes.

           Roman hesitated for a moment, spitting in his palm and running it hastily over his cock before slipping inside. Virgil threw his head back as it spun, Roman’s cock pushing in while he was still slicked up inside. He met Roman’s eyes, and groaned, “That’s his… it’s your brother’s cum. You know that right? Can you feel it?”

Roman’s nose wrinkled, but more in anger than disgust, and he spat in Virgil’s face, making Virgil moan like a shameless whore as he arched his back. Roman’s first proper thrust was rough, fast and it knocked him out of the fantasy completely.

           ----

           The orgasm was heavy and sudden, like a punch to the chest and Virgil panted as he wrung himself out, his free hand fisting in the sheets, “Jesus, Princey,” Virgil muttered into the stillness.

           Well and truly overstimulated, his nerves singing like they always did, but without the comforting warmth and weight of another body. He ran his fingers through the spend on his stomach, savoring the sight as yet another wave of nostalgia rolled over him, weaker than the others, but undeniably present as Virgil sucked his fingers clean, sighing at the rapidly-fading sex high.

Virgil heard a familiar sound and turned his head to look at the door, opened just a crack, “You just gonna watch again?”

           Roman moved forward, pushing the door open further with his foot. He was of course more put together than the night they saw one another in the dark living room. Not quite the picture of smirking valiance Virgil imagined, not a hero looking to dominate a villain. Nonetheless, the Prince looked willing, and Virgil was ready to move on and make new memories, as painful as it could be to accept change. What did he have to lose?

[ghostsbabey]

Can we pls get sum more ghostface on this blog? I love ur work sm and the last thing u wrote for him was so good 😭

I’m not too sure which ghostface you were referring to, as I do write for both dbd ghostface and OG ghostface! I decided to write for OG and DBD GF just because I feel like both need love. I had to tone it down to some shorter drabbles about them mainly because I’m not too sure which one was requested. I hope that’s okay ^^; 

I will warn that there is violence and blood in the DBD! GF drabble 

OG GF

You sat on the couch, sandwiched between your two lovers as they watched the movie. It was your weekly movie night- your usual life interrupted by your boyfriends as they practically begged you to watch a horror movie. Again. You wouldn’t lie that you had seen too many horror movies, but the time spent with them made it worthwhile- even if they fought over your attention. And from the looks of it, it’d be one of those nights.

Stu had his arm wrapped around you, the bowl of popcorn stuck in your lap. The sound of the movie drowned out the crickets chirping outside the house, and it was peaceful. Until you felt a tug- your body being pulled against Billy’s side. You could feel the tension brewing between the two as a sigh escaped you- so much for the movie. Your body was suddenly being tugged once more towards Stu, his fingers digging into your shoulder. Your grip tightened on the popcorn bowl, not wanting to spill any of it on the floor, before you snapped, “can you two behave? I’m not a rope to play tug of war with.” 

It didn’t take long for Billy to once more pull you against his side, his grin unmistakable as he replied. “We are behaving, we’re here at home instead of dressed up for the kill. Besides, I think you look better leaning on my arm in case you get scared. I’m looking out for you after all.”

“You’re just trying to hog all the attention. Again,” Stu whined, his body dramatically shifting to fall against yours. The sound of the bowl of popcorn clattering against the floor was deafening, the room going quiet as they both looked down at you. Your eyes briefly flicked between them before you stood up, pulling away from Billy’s grasp and causing Stu to fall across his lap. 

“Alright, since I know how this night is going to go, you’re going to sit with each other. Whenever one of you gets scared you can cling to each other, I’m going to sit on the other side of the couch,” you grumbled, slightly annoyed at the loss of popcorn. It took a couple seconds before your mistake dawned upon you, both of their gazes fixed on you like an animal on the hunt. Stu was the first to make a move, his body lunging from the couch to tackle you- Billy following soon behind. 

The movie blared in the background as you were once again sandwiched between them, this time on the floor in a tangle of limbs. “Sorry babe, but you’re here to stay. You said so when you agreed to movie night,” Billy chuckled, his arms tightly wound around you. Stu’s mischievous giggling was unmistakable as he planted a quick kiss to your cheek, a grin plastered on both their faces as they looked at their prize. You sighed, but it was easy to admit that you loved the two idiots, even if they potentially gave you- or themselves- a concussion from the fall.

DBD! GF

The flash of a camera got your attention, your eyes scanning the trial area for any signs of movement. You could feel him watching you, your heart hammering in your chest as you dreaded the feeling of being so exposed. Usually he would take his sweet time watching you during a trial, but this time felt different. Rushed. Sloppy. Shivers ran down your spine as another flash went off, your body spinning around to desperately scan for the usual white mask and hooded figure. Fear crept through your mind as your thoughts wildly ran. There was no reason you could think of as to why he was behaving like this. 

Your thoughts were soon interrupted from the feeling of cold metal against your back- dragging a slow line down your spine. “You aren’t going to run? I thought you were better than that,” his whisper broke the silence, forcing your body into overdrive as you broke into an automatic sprint. How he had snuck up on you so easily was a mystery, yet you didn’t have time to solve it as a glance over your shoulder revealed he was still following you. His eyes burned into your back, the mask hiding his features from you- yet you could feel the intensity of his gaze. 

Your legs burned as you dashed through window after window, doing your best to keep him busy from your teammates- if they were even still alive. The trial was much too quiet for your liking. Another flash caught your eye, his body barreling from around a wall that you had carelessly ran past- his knife plunging into your shoulder with ease. His camera was held steady in his hand, aimed at your face still as another flash went off. You stumbled, staggered from the sudden burning pain, before your leg gave out to send you into a tumbled heap in the dirt. His footsteps sounded unbearably loud as he approached your fallen form, the sound of the leather shifting as he crouched down catching your attention. 

“So careless for a survivor. I expected better from you, yet you barely watch your surroundings-” he paused as his gaze scanned over your body, “it just makes it easier for someone like me. And I think you’re the perfect addition I need to my collection.” The roar of a generator starting was like your death toll, your wide eyes staring at him like a deer in headlights as he absentmindedly dragged the knife along your side. The sting of pain caused your face to contort, tears stinging in your eyes as he dragged the blade through your ankle- another flash. The camera was mere inches from your face, his shuddering breaths making you aware of just how much he was enjoying his little game.

You kicked out with your good leg, connecting with his leg as he let out a loud grunt- his body falling next to yours. “Fuck you,” you spit at him, your hope starting to blossom as another generator roared to life somewhere in the trial. You struggled to get up, the leg he sliced impossible to move even as you tried to force it. Finally, you resorted to a pitiful three legged crawl, your leg dragging behind you as you tried to make as much distance as possible. The entity was not in your favor, as suddenly his boot slammed into your back to shove you once again into the dirt. 

“I’ll make a deal for you, if you can walk away, you’re free to go,” he carelessly bent down as he spoke, slicing into your other ankle in a similar fashion- his camera held tightly in his other hand like he was giddy to take more pictures of you. With a pained grunt, you tried to stand, your legs not responding to any movement you tried to do. Panic rose in your throat as the situation dawned on you- he completely severed your achilles’ tendon and there was no way you were leaving the trial alive. Your expression must’ve mirrored your emotions, as suddenly he took another picture, looking at it before looking back down at you. His knife was stowed away when he suddenly picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder carelessly. 

His grip on you was tight as he walked, his voice low, “I guess you wanted to stay, you were so ecstatic you couldn’t even leave. I’m glad, I think we’ll make a great pair- don’t you?” Panic gripped you like a vice, your breath hitching as the reality dawned on you. He wanted you. That was it. Nobody else mattered, they could leave, they could try to get in the way, but he was hellbent on getting what he wanted. The thought of how many pictures he had of you already made you shudder, yet you couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts of all the ways he could have killed you instead. It would’ve been endearing if not for the wounds you had already sustained. 

The last generator roared to life, the survivors seemingly pleased with the easy trial they had. The exit gates were open almost immediately, and if only they knew how much closer that put you to your prison- your eyes blank as he carried you around the trial. Even if you wanted to wiggle, your legs wouldn’t respond, you wouldn’t be able to stand or walk. You were powerless to him as he carried you closer to the hatch, his pace quickening almost in excitement. There was no hesitation in his movements as he stepped into it, both of you enveloping in darkness. Tears streamed down your face as you realized that the entity’s realm could be much worse- and it was going to be. 

[barnesxplum-blog]

Steve Rogers x FemaleReader

Summary: Steve Rogers is working as a builder on a construction site right outside of your apartment building, and causes you some *ahem*problems *ahem*

A/N: this is my first time writing anything on tumblr so pls be nice! Also I’d love any feedback! I’m still learning so much :)

Warnings: Smut (18+ only), catcalling, fluff(ish), swearing, unprotected sex. 

Word Count: 4,119

Shoutout to @shxrirogers for the kind words and support in helping me start writing :)

(GIF not mine)

You don’t know if it was the rippling muscles, or the soft, semi-sexual grunts tumbling from his lips that made you do a double-take. Either way, you were in a whole world of trouble, purely because of your wandering eyes. Because your mouth hung open for just a second too long. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” 

The words alone made your hairs bristle and caused numbness to bloom in your chest. 

Reluctantly, you slowed your gait and even dared to turn your head towards the construction site fully. It wasn’t your imagination. There he stood, his shirt was completely off, looking like he had just leaped out of one of those provocative calendars with half-naked men plastered across every month. His lack of clothing was unsurprising in this blistering heat, but all the same it a tugged at a cord somewhere deep inside of you. A cord that threatened to unravel and show no sign of stopping. 

The shirt in question was stuffed carelessly in the back pocket of his utility trousers, which of course, he wore low slung, the tops of his briefs peeking out and taunting anyone who dared to look. 

‘Surely this is a safety hazard’, you thought.

 Below his hard hat were two cocked eyebrows, and even further below were a set of pink lips twisted into the most irritating yet beautiful grin you’d ever seen. 

“You’re blushing,” he remarked, in an irritating sing-song voice, using the back of his hand to wipe away sweat from his forehead roughly. 

“She’s blushing, guys” he called over his shoulder, rousing incoherent grunts from the other men. 

“Can you blame her, Steve?” One whistled, crudely slapping his workmate’s butt before laughing loudly. Steve turned back, eyes following you closely as you moved slowly towards the door of your apartment complex. 

‘Of course, I’m fucking blushing, you’re standing there, half-nude in front of me with...with those out’ You thought, your eyes roving over his abs, though you pleaded with them to stop looking. 

You chose to look away and hurry inside and away from him. The inside was safe, at least. The only problem was, it was your building he and his crew were working on. It had only been a couple of days and you hadn’t had the guts to ask anyone how long they would be there for. All you knew is that they were there in the morning when you left for work and when you got back, they would be starting to pack up their equipment and head to whatever godforsaken bar they could hijack for the night. 

You heaved a sigh out, dropping your bag next to the door and collapsing onto your worn futon. 

“Rough day at work?”

 You dared to open just one eye to greet your roommate and best friend. 

“Not even, Bucky.” you sighed “not even...” 

Work was fine. Being a nurse was great. All you had to concern yourself with was stopping people from dying, and making sure they were reasonably comfortable while you did so. 

“So, why are you sulking?” He used his metal finger to prod at your cheek, the cool metal stunning you for a moment, causing you to gasp and twitch away from him. The sharp intake of breath caused your roommate to chuckle, and flop down beside you. 

“Mmnot” You slurred, burying your head in the arm of the sofa, your new sanctuary away from prying roommates and hot-as-sin builders. 

“Whatever,” he sighed and heaved himself up. “You so are” 

You watched him saunter back into his room, but leave the door open. You knew he wanted you to talk to him, but he would never push you. Just like you did for him all those years ago. He stood a little past his doorway, so you could see his silhouette fixing his hair into a tight knot. Not a bun. Not a ponytail. Certainly not a man bun. He hated all of the above variants. 

“Jesus, will those guys ever shut up?” Bucky muttered while gazing out of his window at the gaggle of construction workers making their way home for the night, as rowdy as a bunch of schoolboys. “When the hell are they gonna be done?” He mused to himself. 

You gathered the strength to stand and stare out of the open living room window, which had the same view as from Bucky’s room. You could hear them quite easily from the cracked open window. 

“Steve- Dude stop!” 

“And if I don’t?” 

You watched as the annoyingly hot construction worker finally released his colleague from a headlock, not before messing up his hair with his fist. 

“I hope soon,” you whispered under your breath, but you couldn’t help but feel you truly wanted the opposite.                                  

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before you were back on duty at the hospital. At least at work, your mind was occupied enough to forget the hot, humid night you spent trying to get the man out of your head manually and failing miserably at it, resorting to an evening alone with your right hand and your own vivid imagination. 

You shuddered at the thought of him finding out just how much he had affected you. Your colleague, Matt bounded up to you and took your state in - Buried in paperwork but somehow still whistling and smiling. 

“Y/N..?” He asked warily “is that really you?” 

You laughed and smacked his arm. 

“What? I can’t be happy?” 

“By all means!” He chuckled “It’s just normally you kinda despise admin” 

“Not today,” you winked cheerfully. 

“Well, if you’re happy doing paperwork you’ll be even happier demonstrating some stitches for a student doctor, wouldn’t you?” 

You picked up the stack of paper you were working through and tapped it on the table to straighten it out. 

“That does sound more exciting than filling these out.” You muse, scratching your head. 

He pulls out your chair with ease, making you yelp in surprise. 

“Off you go Y/L/N, I’ll take this from here” he sighed as he gently pushed you towards the hospital ward. 

You chuckled softly as you wandered towards the baffled looking student Matt had bestowed unto you. You introduced yourself to her and gave her some quick reassurance before whipping open the curtain separating yourself and the patient. You immediately picked up the chart and read aloud to the student. 

“Patient’s name is Mr. Rogers, 38, sustained some minor puncture and laceration wounds from a fall at work... what do we do doctor?” You ask smiling up at the student before you 

“Remove any debris, clean and suture?” She mumbles and you nod. 

After sliding the chart back into its place, you look up to assess the extent of the injuries and find yourself plunged into the depths of a pair of icy blue eyes. You jump back as though you had been burned by a hot stove. 

The exact same stomach-churning wave you had been feeling yesterday night washed over you, and your knees threatened to buckle and made you shift your weight from foot to foot nervously. 

Why the fuck was Steve from the construction site outside of your apartment here? 

The student threw a confused glance at the both of you, before sliding a stool to sit at Steve’s bedside. Thankfully, he looked just as surprised to see you and even had a flushed tinge to his otherwise pretty tan, uniform complexion. You cleared your throat and finally detached your eyes from his, gesturing for the student to begin. 

“So, Mr. Rogers, how did this happen?” The student asked while she disinfected the wounds on Steve’s arms and torso. 

“I was working,” he grunted, wincing at the sting “and I fell” 

You caught the subtle eye-roll the student gave in response to his obvious answer and smirked. 

It was as if you were saying the words before they even reached your brain for approval- “This would never have happened, though, if you were wearing a shirt and protective gear” You blurted, your eyes growing wider with every word you uttered. 

By the end of the sentence, you were almost literally kicking yourself. Steve’s eyes snapped up at you, a grin now plastered across his face, not dissimilar to the one he flashed at you the day before. 

“Then how the hell would I have gotten your attention” he squinted at your chest to read your name badge “Nurse Y/N...?” 

Hearing your name tumble from his lips was enough to force you to squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to suppress the tingling feeling emanating from between your legs, and pretend as though you didn’t hear him. 

Finally, your protégée was done with her clean up and switched places with you so you could show her how to suture up a wound properly. 

“Now, you grip the needle just like this...” you began.

 Absentmindedly, you placed a hand against Steve’s bare abdomen to steady yourself and instantly regretted it. 

He was warm. Very warm, in fact. It was strange that this surprised you. It was hot outside, after all. It was probably something to do with his muscle bound body looking like something that had been carved out of a cold block of marble, and placed in a museum to be marvelled at. Nevertheless, you became more and more self-conscious of how you touched him, and even more aware of his eyes boring into you as you nimbly finished up the stitching. 

“And...you’re all done.” You sighed, slightly disappointed. “Hope that helped,” you turned to your student. 

“Thank you, Y/N. It did.” She smiled at you and rushed off to lunch. 

“Yes, thank you Y/N.” Steve mimicked, now sitting up and smirking over at you. You raised an eyebrow at him as you fill out his chart. 

“What, are you not gonna say thank you back?” He teased “I could see how much you enjoyed feeling me up.” You blushed but maintained your silence. He shook his head and laughed a little. 

“I’m messing with you. You know that right?” He chuckled, but stopped quickly, as he noticed you only offered him a weak smile. 

“But seriously, thank you.” He sighed. “I guess I can get out of here now?” 

“You’re free to go, Sir” He gave you a meaningful look, and you could almost see his eyes darken a shade before he pulled on a dark grey Henley and strolled out of sight. 

You hated to admit it, but you disliked seeing him leave, and it was almost devastating to see him put a shirt on. The only consolation being that his butt in those pants worked wonders for your mood.                                                       

“I’m telling you Y/N, don’t invite Sam if you want to have a quiet night in with no hijinks,” He grumbled

 “I thought you were friends” you chuckled, flicking through yours and Bucky’s extensive DVD collection. 

“We are ... but he’s a problem” he explained, slamming the microwave door on the popcorn he had just placed in it. 

You rolled your eyes and raked a hand through your hair, before finally settling on a classic. 

“We’re watching back to the future...again?” Bucky feigned annoyance, shoving the bowl of popcorn between the two of you and curling up underneath a blanket on the other side of the couch. 

You could only see his eyes peering at you as he drew the blanket up above his nose, his legs stretched out and his ice block feet were planted on top of your thighs, draining their warmth. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you retorted as the opening sequence began. 

Much to both of your annoyance, a sharp knock at the door interrupted your movie just at both of your favourite part- the skateboard chase scene. 

“Did you order in?” Bucky paused the movie and gave you a confused look You shook your head, equally confused, and drew your knees up to your chest as Bucky stood and walked over to the front door. 

“This better be important.” he sighed as he pulled open the door forcefully. 

“What the hell?” Bucky whispered, his voice dripping with incredulity. Bucky was not a man who was easily surprised, so you quickly upped your seat and padded over to the door to see what could have possibly unsettled your normally stoic best friend/roommate. 

It was Steve. He wore a similar expression on his face to when he had seen you at the hospital early that morning. Only this time he had a shirt on and was clutching a bouquet of flowers. 

“Bucky?” It looked like all of the life force had drained from Steve’s face. After a few seconds of staring and silence, you decided to break the awkward silence. 

“I’m assuming you two know each other?” You chimed in. 

Bucky shuffled back to include you in the conversation and nodded. 

“Steve and I used to work together.” He explained, his eyes still fixated on Steve, who was now looking down at the ground. 

“You mean, back when you were an a-“ Bucky flinched beside you. You had almost forgotten how much Bucky hated talking about that. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, briefly patting his tensed flesh arm. 

“Well, it’s nice to see you again,” Bucky continued, still holding his gaze. 

Steve looked up and offered Bucky a weak smile. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed. 

After a pregnant silence, Steve’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, you’re probably wondering why I’m here,” he chuckled nervously. 

You raised an eyebrow. This was a new side of Steve you’d observed. Not to say that you knew the guy well, but from what you had seen, he seemed to be a confident, bordering on cocky kind of guy, who loved attention. To cut it short, you had him down as a womaniser, but the way he was scratching at the nape of his neck and shuffling anxiously before yourself and Bucky gave you doubts. 

“I-I wanted to say thanks properly for today, Y/N” he tripped over his words a little as he thrust the bouquet towards you. 

Bucky now looked at you with that all too common confused look.

 “I did his stitches,” you explained, and thankfully that was enough for Bucky. 

“I was just doing my job,” you took the flowers “but thank you, Steve, that’s really sweet” 

“How did you know our door number?” Bucky asked, completely ignoring the heartwarming scene before him. 

Again, Steve blushed and smiled. “Maybe you should’ve been a detective, Buck” he laughed, “I asked one of your neighbours. I guess I got lucky” 

Bucky smirked at his comment and nodded, accepting the explanation. The conversation reached a natural end, and Bucky looked to you expectantly to bring it to its official close. 

He tended to rely on you in certain social situations, and you had grown used to it. “Well, thank you again, Steve...” you began. And just then you had a thought. 

“Why don���t you stay? We’re having a movie night.” Steve looked momentarily caught off guard and he stuffed his fists into his pockets. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he admitted. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled Steve in by his wrist. 

“It’s back to the future tonight,” he muttered and resumed his usual position on the couch, watching intently as Steve sat between yourself and him after you had found a vase to place his flowers into. 

He could tell something was going on. Steve hadn’t acted like this since...forever ago. 

Finally, the ending credits rolled, and you noticed Bucky was fighting to keep his eyes open, his eyelids drooping and his mouth hanging open slightly. 

“Okay, I think we might have officially overtired the old man,” you remarked, chuckling as Bucky shot you a dirty look. 

He rose from his reclining position and announced he was heading to bed, not before shooting a long, meaningful glance at yourself and Steve. You were alone. At night. With Steve. You blushed as memories of you needing to touch yourself to satiate your yearning for him crept into your mind at what felt like the worst possible moment. You crossed your legs quickly to try to counteract the spreading warmth from your core. 

“Wanna watch something else?” You quickly offered. 

Steve shifted in his seat so he was closer to you, his arm draped over the back of the couch, almost brushing at your hair. “Whatever you want,” he smiled lazily at you. 

Though it was pretty dark in the living room you could see his pupils were blown, and were focused on your mouth. 

“Uh...I think they’re showing some old films on channel-“ “

You’re nervous,” he sighed, cutting you off. 

You shifted awkwardly in your seat, not knowing how to respond to his statement. Luckily for you, Steve seemed to have a plan of his own. Before you could properly react, he had brought his hand to your face, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before dragging a finger down your jawline to your chin, and resting it there. By now he was close enough for you to feel his body heat radiating from underneath his clothes. 

“You’re real pretty, Y/N.” He whispered. His eyes were now scanning your whole face. 

You felt your jaw drop and your mouth hang open, unsure of what was going to happen next. You couldn’t even summon the strength to say thank you. He was now firmly holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger and he gently brought it closer to his own face. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his lips to yours. His tongue darted playfully, asking for entrance, and you immediately moaned, granting him access. He brought his hands down to your waist, then your hips, and then squeezed at your ass. He smirked into the kiss. 

You caught your breath as you finally pulled apart from him, but relentlessly he attached himself to your neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin there. “Steve...” you sighed, embedding your hands in his soft hair. 

“Mm?” He hummed, his hands exploring your body. 

“Steve, I need you” He quickly pulled away, and stared at you. You could barely see him now in the darkness, but you could make out his chest rising and falling due to laboured breaths. 

“Say it again.” He demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Steve I need you. I need you right now” you said, adding a whimper at the end for effect. 

With a deep growl, he rose to his full height and picked you up bridal style as if you weighed nothing. Somehow, through your shocked state, you guided him through the dark apartment to your room. He tossed you onto the bed and started ravaging your body with his mouth, kissing every inch of bare skin with desperation. You felt his erection pressing against your thigh as he removed your top and fiddled with your bra strap. He ripped the bra from your body, and instantly attached his mouth to the peaks of your breast, rolling the other bud in his hand. This drew a primal moan from the depths of your body, and you clamped a hand over your mouth, knowing Bucky was sleeping nearby. You bit your lip as Steve continued to massage your breasts and flick his tongue against your nipple simultaneously. You started to palm him through his jeans. 

From what you could feel, he was large. Your mouth watered and your pussy clenched at the thought of it. It seemed Steve noticed this and almost read your thoughts. 

“Can’t wait to feel me inside you, Y/N?” He whispered, sitting up suddenly to remove his shirt, the outline of his ripped torso catching the dim light of your bedroom. 

“Please, Steve,” you whined, rolling your hips against his leg. 

“I’m gonna taste you first, darling” he muttered, pulling your sweatpants down and exposing your panties. He dragged two fingers over the material of your underwear and chuckled. 

“You’re wet,” he mused, tugging the material to the side. He began by rubbing your clit slowly, causing you to lift your hips into the air jerkily, overcome by a wave of pleasure. 

“Look at you,” he sighed so violently you could feel his hot breath against your pulsating opening 

“You’re so pretty, coming undone for me, Y/N” And with that, he dove between your folds, lapping at your core enthusiastically. You tugged at his hair, steering him as he continued to eat you out. Your toes curled at every movement he made with his fingers and tongue, almost knocking the breath out of you. 

“Cum for me” he murmured against your heat, noticing you getting close to your climax. 

“Soak my face.” His dirty words alone sent you over the edge, a wave of euphoria crawling out over your body, leaving you a shivering wreck. 

You didn’t have much time to recover from the first orgasm that Steve Rogers had so graciously given you, despite it being so intense. You had barely finished twitching when you looked up to find the man angling his sizeable cock at your entrance, his face flushed and his hair flopping into his face- a perfect picture of impatience. 

The tip brushed frustratingly against your folds, teasing what was to come. You moaned and rutted your hips against him. 

“You sure you want this, darlin’?” He whispered, his breath hot on your skin. 

You couldn’t nod fast enough, and he grinned. He loved your eagerness. It was endearing, and something he hadn’t experienced in a while. He watched your mouth involuntarily fall open as he pushed himself into you so fast, that his balls slapped against your skin. Instinctively you reached out to grasp onto something, anything and squeezed your eyes shut as you stretched around his girth. 

Steve continued to thrust into you, but took a more gentle rhythmic approach, allowing you to grow used to his size. Noticing your raised hand, he interlocked his fingers with yours, and gently rested your intertwined hands on the bedsheet above your heads, leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

“F-fuck, Steve, you feel so good” you groaned as he picked up the pace. 

“Yeah? You like it when I’m fucking your pretty little pussy hard?” He grunted, releasing one of your hands and running a finger along your bottom lip. You nodded, and licked at his fingers, before sucking on two of the long, calloused digits. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, growled, and quickly flipped you over so you were riding on top of him. 

Now you could see his body clearly. You couldn’t help but run your fingers up and down his toned chest, now coated in a sheen of sweat, all while grinding against him teasingly. 

You stuck your chest out so your breasts bounced just that little bit more, and it seemed to do the trick. He pulled you down forcefully by the arms and buried his head in your cleavage and his thrusts became sloppy and erratic. 

“I’m gonna...Y/N I’m gonna cum right now...” he warned you. Quickly, you slid off of his length and pushed your tits together in front of his tip. 

“Cum for me, Steve,” you whined, looking up at him through thick lashes. This, was enough to push him over the edge. His mouth contorted into a crooked “O” shape and his eyes rolled backwards slightly. 

White, hot streams of cum shot out at you, coating your breasts thickly. You smirked, maintaining eye contact with him whilst scooping up some of his seed and sucking it clean off of your finger. His eyes widened and a pink hue rose at his cheeks once more, surprised at how dirty you could be. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to give you another one,” he mumbled sheepishly, as you cleaned yourself up. You shook your head and slid between the covers beside him again. 

“Steve, I’ve never cum that hard in my life. Don’t worry about it.” He smirked, and reached out under the thick covers to wrap his hands around your wrists and pull you until your chest was flush against his, and you could feel his heart beating through the warm skin of his chest. All was silent until you heard feet on the floorboards outside of your room. 

“Thank fuck that’s over,” you heard Bucky grumble petulantly before hearing his door slam shut once more.

[eltanin-malfoy]

PROLOGUE: Powerlines

Table Of Contents

pairing: draco/fem-auror!y/n

word count: 620 

warning(s): mentions of war and trauma

a/n:  this song is instrumental! so like! yeah! also, this chapter isn’t exactly onto the real story yet but more an introduction to the premise and the main character, so hang on tight :# the chapters will be a lot longer from here onwards. again, pls feel free reply to this post / send an ask / dm me to be added to the tag list for this fic!

taglist:  @acciodracoo @drawlfoy @war-sword @lilyreachelcassidy @socontagiousimagines @andreasworlsboring101

Dark times continue to persist, no matter what. When someone feels like they’re at the peak point of their life, there is someone, perhaps even someone very nearby, who’s going through their lowest. But then there are times of widespread despair, of war and famine. Some embrace their pain, while some try to distance themselves from it. But no matter what, light comes after darkness. It has been nearly seven years since the end of the war since one of the greatest dark wizards of all time was defeated by a seventeen-year-old. There was a cost to power, oh, for sure. And He Who Must Not Be Named had been forced to pay. 

She remembered all the parties and all the celebrations that summer. The pomp and fanfare. She remembered all the delicately worded invitations and the venom laced grievances. But she’d skipped all of it. She simply wasn’t in the mood for all that joy and cheer back then. The war had passed but it had taken its toll on her family. How else was she supposed to react but by turning into a recluse and eliminating contact with all her loved ones? It made sense in her mind, at least.

It had taken time, but she had gotten over her loss. She had learned how to keep all those feelings under lock and key. It was all over and she didn’t need to think about it anymore. She’d moved on, really. The nightmares had lapsed and she could imagine a future for herself again. And now, she was a hundred per cent sure about what she wanted to do: protect others and fight those who could cause harm. She could never, ever let what had happened repeat itself. She knew better than not to learn from her mistakes. And that was why, after she finally gave her NEWTs in 2000, she applied for Auror training. 

She’d be lying if she said it was simple. She’d thought her seventh year at Hogwarts had been hard, but oh dear Merlin were the three years she was forced to face right after it much, much more difficult. She spent much of her time practising and reading up on the texts and techniques they were prescribed to learn. The few friends she managed to make were those she practised duelling with in the little spare time she had. 

Thanks to her commitment, she managed to make it through those testing years. She donned her red Auror’s robes with as much pride as she possibly could. She knew, honest to Merlin, that this was the best career option it could possibly have been. She was partnered up with a more experienced Auror, who was at times a bit patronizing, but generally agreeable. She spent most of her days helping muggles out of situations they shouldn’t ever have landed themselves into and casting memory charms to wipe their brains of entire incidents. But hey, Y/N knew any kind of job would eventually get boring. Also, she assumed it was better if they didn’t have as much interesting work for her to do, it meant her world was that much safer.

But that didn’t last much too long. She knew happiness wasn’t something that generally sustained itself in her life. She didn’t know it yet, but the paperwork was on the way. She was only a few months into her second year of service and was soon to be offered a promotion. Not exactly, actually. She was to be assigned a different partner. (One she had never, ever wanted to work with. One whose face still sometimes made her relive one of her darkest moments.) And not for a reason she was going to enjoy.

a/n: i promise, it gets spicier (like, actually) and more fast-paced in the next chapter. thank you for reading this and lmk what you think. next chapter is scheduled for jan 12th! (also it’s meant to be this unspecific, it will all be revealed soon! and yes, dw, it is a slow burn) 

[canonrpfinder]

★ spread my ashes to the stars... ★

maybe it's the summer or whatever but holy Hell do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask and has never really gotten traction before but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm yee regular, 30+ trans dude and homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating lil' servers for me and my partners where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is not required that you write a whole ass novel just because I do. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples, pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

M x F and CC x CC primarily, for such rareships as;

your ★ Adam Warlock against my ✦ Gamora; it seems bizarre, I know, but I'd love to explore these two in a post-GOTG3 world. two people who don't really feel like they belong, like they were made against their will, and are now finding their way, their place and their home in the world, possibly together. definite potential for strictly platonic stuff, even if I'm primarily lookin' for romance.

your ★ Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula; this ship lives in my head rent free. I have many thoughts for this, among the many a setting where Kraglin gets injured and Nebs has to come face to face with her emotions... but I'll leave the rest for DMs. >:3c

and... others, honestly. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you think would work with My Gals, feel free to come at me!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

✒️

[findroleplay]

★ spread my ashes to the stars... ★

maybe it's the summer or whatever but holy Hell do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask and has never really gotten traction before but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm yee regular, 30+ trans dude and homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating lil' servers for me and my partners where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is not required that you write a whole ass novel just because I do. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples, pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

M x F and CC x CC primarily, for such rareships as;

your ★ Adam Warlock against my ✦ Gamora; it seems bizarre, I know, but I'd love to explore these two in a post-GOTG3 world. two people who don't really feel like they belong, like they were made against their will, and are now finding their way, their place and their home in the world, possibly together. definite potential for strictly platonic stuff, even if I'm primarily lookin' for romance.

your ★ Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula; this ship lives in my head rent free. I have many thoughts for this, among the many a setting where Kraglin gets injured and Nebs has to come face to face with her emotions... but I'll leave the rest for DMs. >:3c

and... others, honestly. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you think would work with My Gals, feel free to come at me!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

.

[yo-aroleplayfinder]

↜ ♫ come and get your love... ♫ ↝

maybe it's the summer or whatever but HECK do I have the hankering for reviving my Gamora and Nebula (of Marvel's MCU / Guardians of the Galaxy) muses. I know this is a niche ask but you can't fault a guy for trying, soooo;

✦ sup, I'm a 30+ trans dude and yee local homosexual from Europe, looking to write one on one with peeps on discord. I like creating a private server for me and my partner where we can write and store all the good stuff like music, refs, art, memes, all of that in multiple channels. it's not required to befriend me to write with me, but I do gladly befriend my writing partners! I write in third person, past tense, and usually reply at least once a day, sometimes quicker, sometimes slower. you know how it is; life, in the way, etc. I strive to be communicative and let you know should I get busy. I typically write 2+ paragraphs and can go up to the dozens if given the opportunity, sometimes I simply Cannot Shut Up, but it is never required that you write a whole ass novel just because I insist on doing so. I do require proper grammar, though, although I'm obviously gonna forgive the occasional error, because who doesn't make those? I'm not a native English speaker either!

suuuuuuper open and hype for multiple threads, crossovers, AUs, even multifandom + tupperbot and dice maiden. I love slow burn as much as love at first sight, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort and occasional smut, mostly just everything in a nice balance. I'm not interested in toxic ships; I like my ships to suffer, sure, but not because they're actively terrible for each other for idk steamy reasons I guess. I like them to struggle but come out the other side together and stronger, beat their obstacles and have love conquer all.

I've got almost 20 years of writing experience on this Earth and come equipped with writing samples. pls be at least 21+ if you contact this local trans peepaw 👴🏻 ✦

so what am I looking for?

for this specific hankering - romance, M x F, CC x CC and post-GOTG3 primarily. ships in particular include such as;

your ★ Adam Warlock, Peter Quill, Thor or Loki against my ✦ Gamora.

your ★ Adam Warlock, James Rhodes or Kraglin Obfonteri against my ✦ Nebula;

and... others, honestly. Wolverine, T'Challa, Shang-Chi, Clint? I'm open to it. I'm a huge fan of rareships and gladly draw my own fanart to sustain them, so, y'know - if you got a fella you wanna with My Gals, feel free to come at me! trust and believe I have so many ideas for tossing both Gam and Nebs at people!

still interested after this massive info dump??? great! drop a like and I'll come find you!!! 🖤

YO YO YO LIKE THA POST N ANON WILL REACH OUT!!!!!!!!!!!

[anastpaul]

Remember you are Dust and Unto Dust you shall return

Ash Wednesday 6 March 2019

Saint Peter Chrysologus (400-450)

Bishop of Ravenna, Father & Doctor of the Church

Sermon 8 ; CCL 24, 59 ; PL 52, 208

Exercises for Lent:  Almsgiving, Prayer, Fasting

My dear brethren, today we set out on the great Lenten journey.   So let us take our food and drink along in our boat, putting onto the chest the abundant mercy we shall need. For our fasting is a hungry one, our fasting is a thirsty one if it isn’t sustained by goodness and refreshed by mercy.   Our fasting will be cold, our fasting will flag, if the fleece of almsgiving doesn’t clothe it, if the garment of compassion does not wrap it around.

Brethren, what spring is for the land, mercy is for fasting – the soft, spring winds cause all the buds on the plains to flower;  the mercy of our fast causes all our seeds to grow until they blossom and bear fruit for the heavenly harvest.   What oil is to the lamp, goodness is to our fast.   As the oily fat sets the lamp alight and, in spite of so little to feed it, keeps it burning to our comfort all night long, so goodness makes our fasting shine – it casts its beams until it reaches the full brightness of self-restraint.   What the sun is to the day, almsgiving is to our fast:  the sun’s splendour increases the light of day, breaking through the dullness of the clouds;  almsgiving together with fasting sanctifies its holiness and, thanks to the light of goodness, dispels from our desires anything that could petrify.   In short, what the body is for the soul, generosity acts similarly for the fast:  when the soul leaves the body it brings about death;  if generosity abandons the fast, it is, its death.

A very special day.

The ashes we use are the burnt palms from last year’s celebration of Passion Sunday. We begin our Lenten journey aware of where we are going. We want to enter into the Passion, Death and Resurrection of Jesus for us more fully. That is the purpose of our journey.   It is why we mark our heads with His cross. It is why we fast today and abstain from meat.

Our Lenten program is not an effort to save ourselves. We have been saved by His sacrifice. Our self-denial helps us, in the darkness that surrounds us, to prepare ourselves to receive His light. For this is a journey to the Easter font, where we will renew the promises of our Baptism, remembering that in dying with Him in the waters of Baptism, we are re-born with Him to everlasting life.

This year’s journey begins today.

Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning;

Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the LORD, your God. For gracious and merciful is he, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment.

Closing Prayer: Lord, it feels like we are embarking on a Lenten journey together, You and I. Today, we are invited to let the Holy Spirit purify our hearts and strengthen us in love. That feels like what I am looking for – or what You are looking for in me. I want to remember how much I need You in my life and how much my life needs redemption. I want to remember it clearly and in the background of my day, today and all through Lent.

On this special day, Ash Wednesday, may my small sacrifices in fasting be a way to clear away the clutter in my life to see You more clearly. May my longing for meat and other food, help me to focus my life today more outside myself. Let me be aware of those, who are in so much more suffering, than I am and may I be aware of them, as the brothers and sisters, You have placed in my life.

Lord, I know there is darkness within me and around me. Bless these days with Your Word. Let Your Light shine in the darkness. Help me long for that shining Light until we celebrate it at the Vigil, six weeks from now.

And most of all Lord, help me to honour this day with the ashes on my forehead. They help me remember where I have come from and where I am going. May I acknowledge to You my sins and my deep need for Your loving forgiveness and grace. I pray that this Lenten season will make me so much more aware of how much I need Your love and care in my life.

May the Lord bless us, protect us from all evil and bring us to everlasting life. Amen

“The Lord, who always goes before us, said this and did this (Jn 12:24).   Whenever we experience the cross, He has already experienced it before us.   We do not mount the cross to find Jesus.   Instead it was He who, in His self-abasement, descended even to the cross, in order to find us, to dispel the darkness of evil within us and to bring us back to the light.”

Pope Francis

(at the Canonisation of Saints Francisco and Jacinta on 14 May 2017)

(via Remember you are Dust and Unto Dust you shall return)

[haptureratch]

I'm dead. I ascended. Last night with James was fucking everything. The anticipation of entering the hotel where the bar was...getting closer to said bar...rounding the corner and knowing he'd be there...I must have looked like a cat stalking my prey as I walked up to him. "Is this seat taken?" Catching up. Moving to the tapas place. He licked an errant drop of red wine sliding down the outside of the glass. Whispered something in my ear which I do not remember because my brain stopped working. Slowly getting tipsy and touching more. The legs. Then the fingers at the back, kneeding in. My hands brushing over his arm and shoulder, a little of his thigh. He said he was feeling quite good about the evening. He came back from the restroom and my scarf was off, revealing the deeply cut V of the outfit I picked out for him. Then things went from slow burn to on fucking fire. We fucked each other via eye contact at the bar. He kissed my fucking neck twice. The place was closing and we headed to another bar to keep at this public teasing. I clung to his arm the whole way. We got in line. More brushing of lips over my neck...his temple and ear. Lips hovering over each other, wordless desires flashing in the small hot space between. Him putting his hands in my coat pockets, or nestling them at my sides, pulling me to him. And finally giving up on the line. Making our way to his hotel. And all hell breaking the fuck loose

Ugh pls sustain me for as long as you can, memories 😭