#thank you anon ;o;

[dangerousbride]

Healthy 🍕🍍 || (Enjoying his meal 😳)

[erabu-san]

alhaitham in your style is making me go feral please please please can i ask for haitham doodles

thank you and have a good day/night and continue making bloody amazing art <333

glad you like him in my artstyle !! here for youuu

[macfrog]

Just me up at 2am wondering how many times Joel replays that wedding hotel room night in his head 🤔

warnings: breeding kink, pregnancy, m masturbation, desperately horny joel word count: ~600 words

i think he thinks about that entire night and wonders what the fuck even happened there. the way the world tilted ever so slightly the moment he pulled open his front door and saw her on his porch – sunlight twinkling from her earrings, satin draped over her breasts in pale waves; the shameless flirting under the cover of rosé wine and beer, string bulbs and rainbow disco lights.

i mean, one minute he’s waving his newspaper at her like a grumpy old man, counting down the seconds until she’s skipping back over to her own fucking porch – the next he’s caging her against the bed in her hotel room, thinking if he doesn’t fuck her here n now, he might tear the entire place apart.

between the wedding and three weeks later? yeah, he might think about it – just a little.

might think about her dress, the shape of her body beneath it. the way it fell from her hips – just slipped down over her curves and pooled at her feet like venus emerging from the ocean. might think about her naked body: how, until that night, he’d only ever wondered about it – stealing sideways glances over the fence at her little shorts and tight vest tops. but now…now, he knows what she looks like. he’s seen her undress for him.

and i bet he thinks about her soft gasp when he first pushed inside, after she finally caught her breath again; feeling the size of him inside her, how he knew she didn’t expect him to be so big and so fucking hard for her. how much he had to focus on not coming within five thrusts, she was so fucking tight.

bet he thinks about it in the shower, one hand against the tiled wall, the other jacking himself furiously. mouthing the words he whispered in her ear as their bodies rocked together: how good she is for him, how pretty she looks all full of his cock. bet he still hears the echo of her moans, the sweet little laughs lilting from her lips.

and when he finds out she’s pregnant? shit.

when he’s watching the evidence of what they did grow right before his eyes? her body blooming: stomach swelling, breasts growing, her cheeks plumping and her skin glowing? knows that he’s the one who changed her forever? knows that it’s his baby she’s growing?

sure. he probably thinks about that part a normal amount, too.

and i bet he thinks about how he shouldn’t be thinking about it. about her.

not when he’s sure she wouldn’t look at him ever again, if not for their parallel driveways and the parallel lines on that pregnancy test. not when he’s trying to act his fucking age, date someone actually appropriate for a forty-eight-year-old with backache and still two decades off retirement.

but it makes it worse – the fact he shouldn’t be doing it. shouldn’t be relieving the heavy weight between his legs in the morning with the memory of her lips closing around his fingers, playing on a reel behind his eyelids.

shouldn’t be staring into space while he’s driving, hearing her giggles once they’d finished; feeling her nails as she drew shapes on his sweat-sticky chest. shouldn’t be thinking about her wandering around with his baby inside of her; her body growing ‘n changing all ‘cause of what they did together.

he shouldn’t be. he shouldn’t he shouldn’t he shouldn’t but jesus, he is. you fucking know he is.

dear reader, joel has absolutely wrecked the tape, the number of times he’s replayed that night. the vhs player is smoking.

[sematarygirls]

ada sonny with an age gap relationship?

i wasn't 100% sure what exactly to do, so i'm just gonna do some headcanons; i hope that's okay !!

                   ౨ৎ

is definitely very, very insecure about the age gap. he worries that he's too old for you, and one day, you're going to realize you want someone closer to your age. it does make him feel better when you reassure him (his love language) that you love him in spite of his age and aren't going anywhere.

he's also always the butt of the joke because of his age. you'll lightly poke fun and call him old when he references something that's before your time, and your friends all refer to him as "grandpa."

you two do not share the same humor. he'll make a joke and die laughing while you're sitting there completely lost (and vice versa).

he claims he's always right because he's "older and wiser" which makes you roll your eyes. he usually is always right, but that's besides the point!

date night is hard to plan because you want to do fun and exciting stuff like party, but he wants to do relaxing and romantic stuff.

you tried to do a cute cooking date once, but he got frustrated because he's such a control freak in the kitchen.

you two argue like an old married couple. looooooots of bickering because he's too mature, and you're very immature.

talks about stuff and asks you to do things that he expects you to know and gets very bitchy when you don't (he's got the sass of a teenage girl)

tries to get you to come to court to see him win at least once, but you find it boring. all the legal jargon and having to sit quietly the whole time makes you want to fall asleep.

finding a show or movie to watch is sooooo difficult because your tastes are so wildly different.

same thing with music. you'll put on a new song you like, and he'll roll his eyes and tell you to put on something actually good (even though half the time he ends up actually liking the song)

he's very worried about what other people will think of your relationship. he loves you and wants to show you off, but he worries that the age gap (completely 100% legal, of course) will rub some people the wrong way.

sometimes, he gets insecure about his grey hairs and wrinkles, but when you tell him how much you love them and how sexy they are, he immediately feels a million times better.

constantly tells you how lucky he is that someone as attractive as you loves an old man like him. he's seriously bewildered why, but he feels so grateful for you. you're everything to him

you make him feel young again, and he loves it.

[frownyalfred]

I saw your post about Bruce being protective when people creep on teenage Dick, and I have to tell you I STILL remember the line in ASOH where he talked to Lex about it. Goddamn. Fantastic line, hit me like a punch to the emotions, and stayed with me.

OOF yeah! The line about Bruce and Lex being pretty too young, right? I loved that whole scene.

It came at such a tense time (Jason’s sudden emergency presentation) but it was really important to show that Lex actually cared about helping AND that Bruce wanted Lex there to help. And that Bruce understood a lot of what Lex had gone through, because he’d gone through it himself. But Jason won’t, if both of them have their way.

[cod-thoughts]

What about silly pricenik?

This is great i love sharing dumb headcanons ive got hehe. Heres some i have in my notes! These are most of them! Rest is under the cut there was...a lot 0_0

Nikolai

Despite being a fantastic pilot, Nik has a horrible sense of direction on the ground. He once got lost in a massive tesco's and refused to ask for help, claiming he was “scouting the exits.”

Nik insists on making every departure as dramatic as possible. Helicopter pickups? Cue the music. Leaving a room? He slams the door just right so it echoes.

Nik’s sense of humour is as dry as the desert, and he can deliver the most absurd statements with a completely straight face. Soap once believed for an entire day that Nik had a pet bear named Boris. Nik gifts Soap a stuffed bear with a note that says his name is Boris for secret santa two years later too.

Nik collects tiny, odd souvenirs from missions—a bottle cap, a rusty coin, a piece of scrap metal. His pockets are always jingling, and Price swears he’s part magpie.

Nik is surprisingly good at poker and never misses a chance to challenge the team. His poker face is so good that even Ghost has a hard time reading him.

He won’t admit it, but Nik has a soft spot for cheesy romantic comedies. He does drag Price to watch the opera, theatre or musicals and Price loves it because Nik is so happy there however, Price refuses to watch a single rom-com "Sorry, Nik, love can only do so much."

Nik can MacGyver his way out of almost anything. Once built a makeshift flare gun out of a broken torch and a rubber band. It worked—just barely.

Nik’s rucksack is always bursting with random things—extra batteries, half a loaf of bread, a flask, and tools for a job no one asked for. Somehow, it all ends up being useful.

He has an entire list of mission rituals he swears by, like tapping the side of the helicopter before takeoff or wearing the same lucky socks on dangerous ops.

His voice booms like he’s addressing a crowd. Gaz calls him “The Walking Megaphone.”

Nik has a habit of keeping little mementos—like the first time Price scrawled mission coordinates on a scrap of paper for him, which Nik still keeps in his jacket pocket.

He once made a playlist for Price that was entirely love songs in Russian, claiming, “It’s all about the vibe.” (yeah, sure nik. Price looked up some of the lyrics and blushed furiously before finding nik and making some of the lyrics come to life...)

Even in the worst situations, Nik finds a way to keep spirits up. He once cracked a joke mid-firefight that had even Ghost smirking.

Wherever they go, Nik seems to have a knack for charming the locals. Whether it’s his booming laugh or his easy smile, he somehow ends up with an invitation to dinner by the end of every mission.

NikPrice

Nik insists on picking Price up for missions in the most inconvenient places possible (when he can)—like rooftops, narrow alleyways, or middle-of-nowhere fields. Price grumbles about it every time, but Nik calls it “adventure pickup.” The boys love it just because it annoys Price.

They’ve worked together so long they don’t need words to communicate during a mission. Nik swears it’s because they’re “two halves of one operational brain,” to which Price always mutters, “God help us all.”

Nik once stole Price’s hat during a mission and refused to return it until Price called him “the best pilot in the world.” Price begrudgingly complied, but Nik still teases him about it.

Nik has a habit of doing absurdly dramatic favours for Price, like flying halfway across the world to deliver a forgotten map. When asked why, he always shrugs and says, “For you, John? Anything.” (Price eventually realises its not cause Nik can, its cause Nik wants to and he finally puts them both out of their misery and asks him out. Price thinks this will stop Nik, it in fact does not)

Their comms during missions are half professional, half flirting banter. Soap and Gaz are constantly muting their headsets to avoid laughing during stealth ops. Ghost is just used to it at this point.

Despite the chaos of missions, Nik has a way of carving out small, quiet moments with Price—whether it’s a cup of tea at dawn or sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in silence on a rooftop, sharing a flask.

Nik isn’t overly demonstrative in professional settings, but his gestures still speak volumes—brushing a speck of dust off Price’s shoulder without a pause from Price, straightening his collar too, or resting a hand on his lower back as they move through crowded spaces. When it's just them or them and the team though? Nik is all over Price, extremely touchy, does not care if Price is bright red or the team make fun of them for acting like teenagers. He is touching his Captain.

Nik knows every scar on Price’s body and has a story for each one. Price doesn’t like talking about his injuries, but with Nik, he doesn’t mind. Nik tells him his own tales in return, trading battle marks like old soldiers comparing medals.

Nik insists Price’s coat is impractical for cold weather and always drapes his heavier jacket over Price’s shoulders without asking. Price protests half-heartedly, but he never takes it off, it smells like Nik and leather, what's he supposed to do? Not tuck his nose into the collar and smell the familiar scent of his partner?

Their eyes do most of the talking. On missions, one look is all it takes to communicate everything—from reassurance to affection to, occasionally, “I’m going to kill you for that stunt later.”

[gowonminajxx]

Can i req just like horny miguel idk im starving rn

of course anon!!!! ^_^

:: STARVED.

fic by miumiulicious 2023 �� miguel x gn!reader CWs :: smut -- self given handjobs, extremely needy miguel, he litrlly thinks abt y/n everyday!!. not proof read/edited

pre a/n :: thank you anon! this is a simple request but i get what u mean. sorry if i went too far but i picture miguel as someone extremely desperate in sexual activities

you had been walking around hq this day, finishing up a couple missions miguel had requested you. walking back and forth between his office and all around the society, you always felt a pair of eyes on you. red, hungered eyes.

miguel's irises would swirl, staring at you up and down as you walked out of his office, he yearned for more and more. just to see you, a glimpse, every other second of his day. he could barely keep up with his thoughts, his hand focusing on elsewhere.

miguel would stroke at his cock in his own office, loosening up from the stressful day as his brain fogged with only imagery of you and how tight your spidersuit hugged your curved and contoured body. it would hug in all the right places of course, the right places for miguel to stare and cry and dream about.

he'd grunt from his throat, length hardening, pre already seeping from the tip as his hand felt around the bulging veins of his cock. he stroked back and forth repeatedly, imagining that your careful hand was the one caressing him and his parts like this.

already leaking all over his hand, he'd grunt once again, but in an annoyed manner. he had to clean himself up, the mess he was, and how blatantly horny and needy he was just for you. he couldn't contain himself any further, and this became a repeating schedule.

as soon as you would step out of his office, hips side to side as you walked, he tugged his cock out, revealing the tall erection as he groaned due to the throbbing pain. he was so extremely horny, and it was starting to become a problem how much he thought of you. especially while he stroked at his cock, pleasuring himself.

he felt so worthless being so desperate like this, but couldn't help but think of you going down on his cock, head bobbing like a floatie. imagery of you tasting every bit and feeling every single vein and flavor of his cock with just your tongue and mouth, sliding the tip in. he'd picture you swiveling your pink tongue all around his tip.

sometimes he'd get interrupted, shifting back and forth, bucking his hips a little as he stroked his own cock by himself, grunts and heavy breaths leaving his mouth. all of a sudden, steps would enter his office and he'd tidy up in just a second, turning back into the spiderman everyone feared at the society.

while he spoke to whatever spiderperson interrupted him, he'd have a little strain in his voice, slightly annoyed that he didn't get to release his load after stroking and dreaming for so long. pre cum dripped, the painful throbbing sensation returning as he'd speak to a recruit, stumbling a little upon his own words.

another day, while he sat by himself in his office, reviewing clips of you walking around the hallway and speaking -- god, your voice is what made him extremely wild. noises coming out of the screen, he'd start heaving and moaning, tilting his head back while his cock was being played with. his hand wrapped around his thick and lengthy erection, stroking to return back to his dreams about you.

he had to take it upon himself to come to you. he couldn't keep up this schedule anymore.

[pettyprocrastination]

whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!

this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!

warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 

So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 

You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 

you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 

nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 

On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after

it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 

but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 

its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 

Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn

its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 

there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 

when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-

all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river

Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 

“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 

he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 

but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything

its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 

Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 

Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 

“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 

So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 

He became a smuggler because of it. 

Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 

But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 

The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 

But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 

“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 

the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 

“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 

All he can do is nod. 

It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 

It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 

Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 

its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 

when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 

Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 

He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 

Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 

“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 

Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 

But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.

“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 

Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 

“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 

He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 

“One.” 

The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 

“Two”

Wait. No, they both do.

“Three.” 

Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 

“Four.” 

Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 

Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 

Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 

Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.

When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 

She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 

“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”

He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 

“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 

[beddybites]

ohhh the way all the kids reflect each of the hashira………… tengen sees ghosts of his friends/comerades in his children every day and cant help but love them all the same………….. each of his children are a reminder that there are better things to look forward to each day and even if he cannot have the people who he sees parts of them in he still pursues the next day nonetheless and is rewarded by being surrounded by his family and the people he loves………..

YES!!!!!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!! ANON U GET IT!!!!!!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!!

[suusoh]

would be funny, if Nina had a gf, and due to Johan's tendency to see him and nina as the same, he'd drop by casually, disguised or not, while nina is away. What's wrong? Nina is him and he's Nina! There's no complications with kissing him! You're basically kissing his sister! (Eaten ask)

your brain anon...........like EXACTLY. exactly. God this is sooo hot and weird which is johan's brand. He is karl marxing the fuck out of his sister's girlfriend. What do you mean "meet my girlfriend"? You mean meet OUR girlfriend. right? (tw: nonconsensual kissing, yandere)

Could you imagine bidding your girlfriend, Nina, goodbye after she spent the whole evening at your place? You whine and beg her to stay longer, clinging onto her, but she rolls her eyes playfully and insists she has to go.

She gives you a loving parting kiss on your lips, then plants even more– on your nose, cheeks, and finally your forehead– before she reluctantly pulls away. Any more, she jests, and she won’t be able to leave.

"You know I hate leaving you like this," she laughs softly. "But don't worry, I'll make up for today once my exams are over. Okay?"

She gives you one last final kiss before finally leaving, waving at you as she walks down the street.

You sigh and close the door, already missing her.

You really love Nina, but sometimes it feels like she doesn’t have much time for you. You understand she has her exams, a part-time job, and aikido training, which doesn’t really leave much left for you. Still, you can’t help but feel a bit greedy, wishing she’d at least dedicate a part of her to you. You're her girlfriend, after all.

You sigh one last time. No use.

She’s already spread too thin, and you know if you tell her your concern, she’ll worry and try to double her efforts to make time for you. No way in hell are you going to give her any more stress in her life. Although today was just half a day together, you're grateful. Even if it left you unbelievably craving, aching for more…

You hear a soft knock on your door. Is it Nina? Did she forget something? Oh, your prayers have been answered. You just wanted one more second with her. You open the door immediately, an excited smile on your face.

"What did you forget this ti-"

"Missing me already?"

You freeze, standing dumbfounded. In front of you is not, in fact, your girlfriend, but a tall, blonde man smiling softly at you.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I don't— Do I know you?" you ask, trying to stay cool. He must have the wrong house to ask something like that so proudly. You’ve never met him before.

His smile doesn’t falter at your question. He continues looking at you, his eye contact unwavering.

"You do." he answers, calmly leaving no explanation, still smiling softly.

You’re getting nervous. He keeps staring and smiling at you. You try to get a good look at him. Is he a mutual friend? An old classmate? A person you pissed off once? You’re at a blank. Though… the more you look at him, the more you notice how similar he looks to… to your… what the hell.

Why does he... look... a bit like Nina?

No. You chalk it off. He just has blonde hair and blue eyes, and the fact you’re missing your girlfriend terribly doesn’t help. But even then, their facial features strike a matching resemblance. It’s a bit uncanny.

You let out a nervous laugh and smile sheepishly at him. "Look, I’m really racking my brain here. Have we met before? I’m really sorry if I can’t recall…"

You give him his cue to introduce himself, to remind you who he is, to be offended at you forgetting—anything! He’s just standing there, staring down with that same smile. Your eyes dart around, seeing if this is a prank. A small uneasy pit forms in your stomach.

A beat passes by. You still wait for his reply.

You can't help but start feeling creeped out. Stupid. Always ask who’s there before opening the door. Just ask him what he wants with you and get it out of the way.

"Hey uh, I-"

He kisses you, his lips softly crashing against yours, hands gently cradling the back of your neck. He’s not forceful, but his hold is steady. You squirm and try to break free, but he quickly shushes you and holds you closer, entrapping your lips in another long kiss.

You think of quickly think of biting him, but he gently pulls away right before you can go through with the thought. His hands come up to tenderly cup your face, his thumb softly brushing against your cheek as he looks at you.

Your vision begins to blur from your tears, your legs wobbling from the fear of the situation.

"I don't know you!" you practically scream out. Your desperation kicks in as you continue to panic. "P-Please. please. please. I'm sorry. I don't know you. I don't… I don't… please… I-."

You cry softly, pleading with him. He just continues cradling your face in his hands, looking at you with that godawful eerie smile. He leans back in, slowly murmuring,

"Shh…"

He continues peppering kisses all over your wet cheeks. "You do know me," he whispers, kissing your nose. "And you know I need to make it up to you," he says, kissing your forehead. He hums softly and leaves another final chaste kiss on your lips.

"And you know I hate leaving you like this."

[selfship-confession-box]

I'm proud of being a nonsharer. I only block my doubles, but at the same point, it should be understandable for some people to feel like absolute garbage over seeing said doubles in the first place. I've earned being a nonsharer.

Any time I got any toys from family back then, I was either expected to share them or give them to my siblings. It feels nice to have F/Os that I don't have to give to anyone.

When I first started being in irl relationships, I had partners who cheated on me. It feels nice to have fictional characters not break your heart via cheating because they're fictional.

Some people are nonsharers because of that sort of trauma. Being forced to share not only childhood things but also romantic partners (cheating) against your will.

Do some people get toxic with it? Yeah. But that's not all nonsharers. Some of us just want to set up the boundaries that we weren't allowed to set up growing up.

.

[hyolks]

idk if you still care about tpn BUT! your art for it is sooo good. and your art in general is so lovely. it makes me really happy :D i hope you have a wonderful day whenever you read this!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I MISS THESE GUYS SO BAD.... the halcyon days,.....

[cervinae-canine]

Imagine dressing up pretty for your F/O's...

Soldier giddily clasping his hands together, with a beaming smile, as you tip the helmet slipping over your eyes up with one hand, as the other holds a rifle over your shoulder. You got the nicest army uniform, with a lovely patch of the American flag or three decorating you. You will be an anti-commie-hippie-nazi force together.

Demo's scrumpy pouring from his bottle to the floor, as he watches you, slack-jawed, in the garb of an ancient Scottish warrior, furs reminiscent of explosions, and a beautiful sword serving as little more than decoration. The thing is heavy, but as he put it, you look bloody mesmerising.

Heavy sighing wistfully, as his eyes study your dress, befitting a knyaz, or a tsar, the hefty jewellery of bullets weighing your neck, head, and hands down, as you try to stand with a straight back, the very model of a painted figure he'd admire on the pages of history books. He's already pretty quiet, but, he is utterly speechless this time.

Engineer whistling lowly, as he admires you from the cowboy hat, down to the spurs, several handsome tools in place of a gun in your holster. Caterin' just to him, that you are, with the proud combo of his spirit and his passions in your clothes. Yer spoilin' him, he says with a shy smile.

Medic gasping softly, as he watches you twirl in your nurse dress, half-laughing half-ooh'ing and aah'ing at every little detail that reminds him of home. The hat, the suspenders, the boots, it's a little silly to most, but to him, you're the best, cutest assistant he could ever ask for! ... Excuse his excitement, schatz, he's just very pleased to see you, is all.

Sniper murmuring "Holy Mother of...", looking at you above his sunglasses, and from under his hat, his face getting even longer - the hunter-esque attire is a personal attack. And the handsome rifle you apparently got as a gift for him, and presented with the rest of yourself? When you already look like Cupid himself gave you an unseen bow to strike his heart with? Crikey, he's in love...

Spy raising his brows, and giving an appreciative "Hmm!", as he nods. The béret? The classy, yet casually appropriate suit? You could approach him anywhere any day, and his focus on the façade of suave calm might dwindle just a little bit. Positively enchanting, he says, eyes fluttering just a tad too dreamily to truly hide how enamoured he is.

Miss Pauling stammering and stumbling over her words, when you catch her off-guard. You look really nice- That's what she's trying to say, yeah, because the way you did your hair, and the shoes, and the tie- Is that a gun in the hidden inner pocket of your jacket? That's, wow, she- Can she look at it? And also generally move closer to you? For no reason at all, you're just so gorgeous- ... Did she say that out loud?

- Penis Anon. (Jumpscare again.)

[frownyalfred]

I've seen the idea around and was wondering about your thoughts on it?

That an Alpha nearing rut starts to become "aggressive" to non pack mates and starts making sure the nest/den is secure and protected. And that an Omega nearing a heat starts to prepare the nest and cleans everything around it, maybe even starts hoarding food and water in preparation.

Do you follow that idea for your own au? And what do you think a betas "job" would be? Would they feel a combination of these urges too or be the one to keep the level head and able to think not having a mind clouded be heat/rut thinking

I love this idea! I definitely lean more into the traditional a/b/o tropes when it comes to alphas preparing for their ruts. I described this a little bit in my pennywaynes a/b/o fic, where Martha and Alfred were laughing a bit at Thomas' expense. Clark acts this way a bit in ASOH when he starts accidentally going into rut and growls at Dr. Thompkins when she says something he doesn't like -- and of course, Lex smacks him and he's totally fine with that, since Lex is pack and Leslie isn't. I don't normally write den-defensiveness into my a/b/o fics, just since I build my AU's pack life around the omega's nest, which the alpha is allowed into but doesn't own like an alpha den. His den is his people, right?

For omegas, I find it much more fascinating for them to mirror alpha rut instincts instead of just falling into the domestic. So they get territorial and defensive of the nest too, but their instinct is to be close with pack members instead of just protecting them. They're inwardly focused, trying to stay close and soothed by having their pack mates close to them, often in the nest itself but not always. The omega also stops eating and drinking as much in preparation for the heat, which is why having the pack mates nearby is so important -- they can help provide pre/post heat care and encourage them to eat and drink even when their instincts betray them a little.

As for betas, I think you're right and they're the "clear headed" ones out of the bunch. But they're also not entirely unaffected. In ASOH Alfred is very much the pack beta, and he spends most of the 2-3 heats/ruts we see in that series providing a ton of care. Some of it is very much instinctual, that is, he's the one who feels better doing it. Checking on the pack, making sure everyone is fed, making sure things are going well in the heat/rut. Helping soothe pre and post cycle worries and hormones. So it's maybe not so much that he's clear headed as he's just got a different job than an alpha or omega in the moment.

[achillean-knight]

Desperately need Michael angst. Pretty pleaseeeeee?

The Bite of 87

[manicist]

hii !! can you please make a tumblr layout of juliek from 8:11? thank you! ( if you don’t want to that’s fine ! ) ♡

JULIEK OCTAVIA TUMBLR LAYOUT

f2u WITH or WITHOUT creds .

DO NOT claim as your own .

ALT COLORING under the cut .

thanks for suggesting 8:11.. i love u anon /p