#still rotating him in my mind. rotating him so much

[stxneflxwers]

I saw your post and came running 👀 I've been thinking about this since the end of December bc I really did not get into the holiday spirit until after it was over lmao BUT for any characters you want to write for: what are they like during the holidays? What traditions do they like to do? What gifts do they give you?

(Extra ideas you can take or leave if it helps your inspiration at all — How does Aventurine feel when you tell him you don't need any of those expensive gifts, just time with him? How does Sunday react when you sit him down to tell him he's stressing himself out too hard trying to find a perfect gift for you and that all you want is for him to be happy? How does Dan Heng respond when you tell him that the only gift you want for the holidays is him?)

^ I've just been rotating the hsr boys in my head all day at work lol so I have a lot of Thoughts™

gift of love.

summary. the greatest gift of all is his love.

a/n. tysm for the request!!! i decided to settle with gift-giving ideas you offered, since it sounded interesting and cute!! im just gonna stick with aven and sunday for this tho... i wanna test how sunday writes for me.

characters. aventurine. sunday.

cw. first time writing for sunday (this is more of a test with how much i enjoy writing him, sry for any OOC-ness). gift-giving. all lowercase. established relationship(s). PLS NOTE THAT I HAVEN'T DONE THE NEW TRAILBLAZE MISSION STILL CUZ I'M A LAZY MFER...SORRY.

aventurine.

tries to be soooo sneaky about figuring out what you like as gifts. he wants all of his gifts to be a surprise, after all! it doesn't work. you see right through his game plan. he's a smidgen disappointed (with himself), and might be a bit surprised depending on the kind of person you are.

he still ends up showering you in expensive gifts of things you enjoy. he tries to find the most expensive edition of any of those things even though he, of all people, should know that expensive ≠ well-made. you have to tell him to chill out.

he immediately believes you're angry with him (why wouldn't you be?). but you're not, and you can see the panic flash in his eyes for the tiniest of moments. you sigh softly with a wary smile. you briefly give him some space before talking to him about it.

you tell him that all the most expensive gifts in the world are nothing in comparison to quality time together. you remain patient with an open-mind and a listening ear – you know he needs a wealth of both. you make sure to tell him you miss him.

his mouth hangs open in silence when you tell him that, for once he's at a loss for words. his mouth closes and he smiles. he takes you into a soft hug and whispers, "i miss you too."

he makes an evident effort to be around you more often when he does have the time. you know, instead of wasting half of it out in the casino.

and it makes all the difference.

sunday.

the most perfectionist to ever perfectionist. stop him before he literally keels over from stress.

thankfully, you notice how weary he's been. and you ask him what's wrong. because at this point – everyone knows, everyone notices how he's been stuck in his head (more than usual). he frets over little things, as usual. but now he seems almost snippy. birdie is cranky.

when he eventually gives in and confesses that he cannot find the "right" gift for you, you're smiling and shaking your head. you give him a very long moment of silence, testing him – seeing if he catches on what you'll say next.

he doesn't catch on "quick enough", much to his dismay. perhaps he hasn't adjusted to your praises and reassurances...yet.

you tell him that the greatest gift of all would be for him to be happy. to be relaxed. to be in the moment. you throw in a little whisper, "maybe by my side, too."

he's silent – his mind running amok with what to say next. he settles for an awkward yet genuinely affectionate, "thank you..."

and then he asks for your forgiveness once he collects himself. you laugh softly and forgive him, you've gotten used to him asking for your forgiveness rather often. only yours, though.

at some point, you're going to need to tell him that forgiving himself is far more important.

[dear-aubade]

first of all I love your writing style 💔

second: can you make a drabble where Joel comforts reader during her cold or any kind of sickness, maybe even usual stomachache aand then they have soft cute gentle xex, and he whispers praises to her, soothing all of her aches, lyyy

- 🐿️

Awwe thank you for the kind words anon, I’m glad you like my work! Here you go!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You try to hide your sickness from Joel because you don’t want to stress him out. It doesn’t work.

Notes: Sick fic, praise kink, soft!dom!joel, sub!reader, sick!reader, reader is in her head a lot, unprotected p in v, reader is very much Joel’s baby, READER IS NOT PREGNANT SHE’S JUST NAUSEOUS

It was normal for you to be reserved. A little quieter than most, a little more soft. Joel knew you better than anybody, and he could tell when you’d slipped into your daydreams, just needing a few moments to drift off within your own head.

But this…this was different.

The day had started off as usual. You and Joel woke up together tangled in blankets, his strong arms holding you close. But the moment you blinked your bleary eyes awake you gave him a swift kiss and mumbled, “M’gonna go shower” before leaving him alone in bed.

Things only got stranger from there. That afternoon Joel was scheduled to leave for a short patrol with Tommy—lately there had been more Clicker sightings, so he and his brother had increased the amount of rotations needed per day. Joel didn’t want to leave you alone when he suspected something was wrong, but it was necessary for him to go if they wanted to keep Jackson a safe haven.

Normally when he was about to leave you’d get all teary-eyed and try to get as many kisses from him as you could before he took off. This time, however, you gave him a short smile and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

That sent Joel’s suspicion through the roof. He had studied your face, searching for any indication there might be something off. Your eyes were a little droopy, but he also knew that the night before you’d been up late with him reading to you…

“Is everything okay, baby?” he had asked softly.

Something flickered in your eyes and a little v appeared between your brow as it creased in confusion. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, I’m just a little worried about you.”

At that, you gave him an innocent smile. “I’m just tired, Joel. I’m okay.” You stood on your tiptoes to press your lips to his in a soft peck. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Against his better judgement, he’d left. But that didn’t stop him from worrying about you all throughout patrol.

You felt absolutely awful.

In the morning you’d woken with quite possibly the worst stomach ache you’d ever experienced. You thought a shower might make you feel better, that your body was just disagreeing with something you’d eaten the day before.

It got worse. It seemed that anything you did made the nausea flare up. All you wanted to do was be Joel’s princess for the day, to whine until he took you in his arms and hushed your cries with sweet words and sweeter kisses.

But he had patrol that day, and you didn’t want him to worry. You weren’t supposed to make him worry, you were supposed to be his good girl. You didn’t want him distracted—you knew he’d been stressed about the increased Clicker sightings and you didn’t want to add more to the burden he was already carrying.

And so you stayed silent about it. You smiled at him and sent him on his way, and finally, finally when you were alone, you snuggled up back in bed.

You were freezing. Even with the thick blankets piled on top of you, you still were shivering, and your stomach ache stayed constant. Even your mind began to fuzz to the point where you didn’t know how long it had been since Joel left. You stopped caring about the need to pretend everything was fine—you just wanted him.

You weren’t in the living room when Joel got back. Normally you’d be there waiting since it was the closest comfy place to the door, so the moment you heard the door open you could run and embrace him in a flurry of kisses.

But you weren’t there.

“Baby?” he called out, shutting the door behind him.

No response.

He frowned and took his shoes off, then shed his thick snow jacket and gloves. Beneath he was just wearing dark-washed jeans and his signature flannel.

In your room, all Joel saw was a lump beneath the thick gray comforter. “Darlin’?” Joel crossed the room and knelt beside the bed. Were you asleep? Did—

“Joel?” Your voice was strained, small. You rolled over and Joel’s stomach sank. Your eyes were hazy, your cheeks slightly flushed. Had you been crying?

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?”

He cupped your cheek and your bottom lip quivered for a moment before you burst into tears.

“Oh, baby.” He promptly stood and got into bed with you, pulling you into his arms. You were so much smaller than him, so easy to pick up and hold against him. “I gotcha. Shh,” he soothed.

You cried quietly into his chest as you clung to him while he smoothed back your hair and pressed gentle kisses to your head. His words were soft murmurs.

“It’s okay darlin’, I’m here now. S’alright….deep breaths sweetheart, can you do that for me? Can you—oh, good girl. That’s it, just keep taking deep breaths for me…”

Eventually your sobs quieted, though a tear still fell down your cheek every now and then. After a few more minutes of holding you, Joel spoke again.

“What’s wrong, honey?” he prompted. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You sniffled. “Just….” Your brow creased. “Jus’ don’t feel good.”

Joel hummed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want you to worry.” Your bottom lip trembled. “I didn’t want—“

“Hey, don’t start again,” he cooed softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “You don’t ever have to think that ever again, you hear? I like worrying about you. You’re my baby, ‘s my job to take care of you.”

He saw your reaction to that—lips parting, brows relaxing, eyes going a little doe like.

“You like hearin’ me say that?” he murmured, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, catching another stray tear. “Like that I take care of you?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide.

Joel kissed your forehead. “You need me to distract you a little bit baby? Make all the bad feelings go away for awhile?”

“Mhmm.” Your little voice was breathless.

Joel chuckled. “Alright honey. You just keep laying there n’ lookin’ pretty—don’t gotta do any of the work.”

Your head had been fuzzy before because of the sickness, but it was nothing compared to now. When Joel talked to you like this, held you like this…it made everything around him grow foggy.

He slid his hand beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and his index finger started to tease your bud over your panties. You squirmed.

“Wigglin’ already baby? I haven’t even done anything yet.” You could hear the smile in Joel’s voice.

His fingers slid past your underwear to dip into your wetness. You whined and tucked your face into the crook of his neck, embarrassed at how slippery you were already.

Joel chuckled and held you tighter. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Nothing wrong with bein’ ready.”

You whimpered as his fingers circled the outside of your entrance. You shook your head at his teasing. “Want your cock,” you whined so sweetly in his ear. “I can take it, promise….just want you to make it all better.”

“Awe baby,” Joel crooned, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Okay. Just give me a sec…”

He shifted to pull down his pants and boxers and toss them to the side. He was already hard against your hip. Laying side-by-side, your chest to his, Joel slid his length past your folds.

Oh….you could have sworn you forgot about your aches and pains right in that moment. He made you feel so full. He was so big, so thick and warm….you could feel him all the way up in your tummy.

Joel let out a sigh that bordered on a groan. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart. So good…”

He started to rock his hips gently and you whimpered, burying your face into his chest.

He chuckled. “So shy, baby. That’s okay, you just sit there…don’t gotta worry about a single thing.”

One of your legs hooked over his hip as his pace sped up and you clung to him the whole way through. You felt so…so…oh, you feel him dragging along your walls so nicely. You were absolute putty in his arms—Joel always made you feel that way, always gave you such big feelings it made you feel too small to hold them all.

“So good, baby,” he cooed. “Such a good girl, taking me so well…just lay there and let me fill you up—oh, you’re so tight around me princess…”

You could feel it then, that big feeling. The one that made you whimper and whine, trying to hide your face more than it already was. “Joel…”

“It’s okay, just let it happen.” His pelvis was rubbing against your bundle of nerves oh so nicely it made you dizzy. “Let me feel you finish on my cock, darlin’, you’re so good for me, so good…”

Every coo and murmur only brought you higher. You let out another high-pitched whine as the feeling started to become too much, too tight too hot too everything, oh you were right there, you…

You cried out as you reached your peak and then fell over the edge. Joel held you the whole way through as you clenched around him and he spilled inside of you, murmuring praises the whole time.

“Good girl, good girl….my pretty baby, you’re doing so well, taking my cock in that pretty pussy of yours….that’s it sweetheart…”

He rocked his hips gently to help bring you down from your high, slowly decreasing his pace until he came to an eventual stop.

He held you in his arms, your body against his. You hummed contentedly and nuzzled at his neck.

Joel smiled. “Feel better, sweet girl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He kissed your forehead. “Why don’t we get in the bath for a bit to clean up, and then I’ll make you some soup? Nothing that will be too harsh on your stomach.”

You blinked drowsily and nodded. “Mhmm. I’d like that.”

Yes, you’d like that very much indeed.

[anonymouspuzzler]

How much of a disaster would an ageswap AU of Villain Coded be?

i have been rotating this in my mind for an entire day smiling to myself thinking of how funny and also terrible this AU would be. Minnie the jaded old supervillain lesbian who has been living alone in a shack doing Major Crime for like 20 years and suddenly has to deal with Two Fucking Kids. Little baby teen Buck still so deep in the closet even he doesn't know and absolutely having a panic attack over running away from home and his Very Nice Very Pretty Friend who helped him that He Feels Normal About. Baby teen Davey just ride or die and making just, the worst decisions of his life, for reasons I can't get into but would be so so juicy to. Minnie is not equipped to handle these kids and their Deep Emotional Problems. it'd be awesome

[millenianthemums]

Golden Boy 💛

[hiphopcherrrypop]

happy premier week!! who else tuning in ✌😲

[italyveneziano]

Obsessed with what America and England have going on in HetaOni. America's like "I keep having to watch my dad die from overusing his magic in past timelines and not knowing how to stop it is killing me inside but I'm not going to talk to him about it" and England's like "I can't seem to hold a conversation with my son without insulting him but I won't hesitate to use my dying breath to ensure I can protect him from beyond the grave"

[silveme]

Sigma has been in Overwatch for five. FIVE!!! 🖐️ (<-12345. Count it.)

Slutty..

Slutty…

SLUTTY….

YEARS!!! 🎉🥳🎊👏🍾🥂

In celebration of that fact, here is my piece for @afterlematch ‘s Sigma anniversary collab! Original post is HERE. Final composition and the original png is under the cut! 👇

[buwheal]

woah. actual thought out reference?

Completely disregard wtf the reference from a couple weeks (a month?) ago looks like. Completely inaccurate. not sure what I was thinking w/ that one. This time I thought this one through, lol. wahoo!! Ive been kind of lazy and totally leaving out features the past few times Ive drawn him and I dont want that to happen again because he loses all the fun features.

notes written out for those who need it (glances behind my shoulder at the mobile app) under the cut. be warned, its long, lol.

starting from the top left, going across to the right side in rows.

-TURN-AROUND -opt grey hairs/grey stripe. he keeps it evenly colored with car oil. -eyebrow crease opt. -head lifted for convenience (for the pose. Also spelt that wrong on the image whoops) -5" when slouched. -neutral expression. Teeth always visible. -eyebags NOT opt. (Except in certain circumstances.) -"Tail" not usually visible -HORRIBLE posture* -black bottom lip pokes out a little -hands reach knees in reg. posture -Gnarly mullet -Overbite -Constant slouch. -Warped lens/frame -Sweaty & jittery a lot - \___ misc. extremes ___/ -BJD body -Motherboard cover -Plush tummy :-) -wears heart boxers underneath. Not shown. - |dissociating-----|-------disconnected| -sensitive eyes w/o glasses. Squints. - :arrow: Sparratically ejects -overdramatic - *except when actively interacting with someone - 5"1 when standing straight - |forced--|genuine--|?----|???---|

[jacqcrisis]

Re-playing the Cazador Palace and the end of Astarion's quest line reminded me of the bad end I had for him and Ronan.

Astarion ascends despite Ronan's protests, using one of the other companions to help him. From then on, there's a strain between him and Ronan, the affection and intimacy gone as the cleric seems to refuse to even address him and Astarion is angry he refused to help. Once the brain is defeated, Astarion, missing his love, stupidly feels brave enough to approach Ronan about becoming his spawn.

As they are alone and Astarion tries to sell his idea, something snaps in Ronan. Astarion finds himself divinely held, incapable of moving as Ronan glares him down silently in the same way he does any enemy that crosses his path, raising his mace and smoke billowing from his mouth. Astarion manages to escape the spell in time to avoid getting bashed in the head, pleading and begging Ronan see reason, what's gotten into him, what the hells happened, doesn't he love-

And he finds himself grabbed, physically this time, a fist around his arm tight enough it feels as though the bone may break. Ronan finally speaks to him, the first time in at least a week, telling him with every ounce of hatred and wrath Astarion knows the dragonborn to be capable of that the man he loved died with all the other people Astarion killed and as a cleric, it his duty to eradicate such a monster. Stunned and in disbelief, Astarion mists away at that just in time to avoid an onslaught of flames, gone into the night as his new ascended life already begins with an enemy gained.

It goes from there. Ronan is in constant pursuit of Astarion and the vampire can't rest for too long. His operation must always be moving, always secret as he never knows when his doors will be kicked in by a group of holy men and his spawn and undead and werewolves and pawns eradicated as he flees once more. If Ronan catches him or he gets to Ronan, it's a fight to the bloody end until one is forced to flee as with every ounce of power and control Astarion has scraped together as an ascended vampire, Ronan has matched him with his own vengeful devotion to his divine warpath.

And they don't give up, not even Astarion. While Ronan wants him dead, wiped from this plane of existence, Astarion wants Ronan to be his. While he found everything he thought he wanted with his completion of the black mass, all the power, all the unending worship, all the status he could feasibly attain as a vampire, what Astarion finds in this new existence is a lack of connection.

At one point, he had friends and allies that wanted to know him for him and he had love and affection without parameters, a taste of the unconditional, of devotion to his being that developed naturally, genuinely, free of a want or a need for anything more of Astarion than himself. As he is now, this doesn't exist; all the spawn and thralls who serve and fawn over him only do so due to his powers making that love exist and all the other vampires who devote themselves to him only do so to keep his favor. Astarion finds this reality barren, empty of warmth as he looks at lover after lover he charmed in the eyes and finds nothing but his own face staring back him and he hates it.

So he obsesses over what he had with Ronan. Yearns for his neck and his subservience and his love that he cut himself off from with one bloody decision. Every time they meet again, as Ronan is attempting to cut him down, Astarion is trying everything in his power to make the cleric his, to seduce him back into his arms with either his teeth or his words, desperate to see Ronan look at him like he used to.

And Ronan always denies him. Every time, he denies him, dressed horn to toe in plate and deaf to the pleas spat at him in a voice that haunts him that he'd give anything to hear come from the person he used to have. So they fight and neither ever wins.

Over. And over. And over again.

[primeministerofantarctica]

i love team chaotix so much they're so silly. the found family ever <3

they're brothers they're coworkers they're a dad and his adopted kids they're everything at the same time

[arolesbianism]

I may be failing my plan to not make any isat aus. So there's this guy her name is Euphrasie right. What if I took her and combined what could be 3 separate au concepts into one. And in the process forced myself to go back and reread a bunch of shit to make sure I know how to maximally fuck over this sad wet puppy of a woman

[qwuilty]

Restless

My beautiful princess who should be in like an amv or something

[vancalox]

should i.

[aeb-art]

siblings :)

[bizarrescribblez]

GUYSSS I’m sad I didn’t draw anything for it but it is officially September 5th my time AND THAT MEANS 🥲🥲🥲 it’s been four years since I’ve f/o’ed Stanley….. Ilysm Stanley you are forever and always gonna be my number one sweetheart forever and ever.. I’m gonna cuddle Stanley hamster tonight hehe anniversary cuddles..

[dmagedgoods]

Thinking about Abdirak again and that he got Rowley, who is a cynic to a worrisome degree and only ever made fun of religion, to join one for the first time in his life. Also thinking about how pain may be the only thing Rowley always viewed with this spiritual sort of passion, and how freeing and cleansing it feels to him, always did. Further thinking of Abdirak and Rowley meeting later again and that Abdirak could teach Astarion how to hurt Rowley in all the most effective, most intimate ways.