#thank you for asking darling

[skinreflectsthesun]

58, 73, 74, 75, 76, 81 (hi darling, sorry if this is too many, I'm bored lol)

58. What are five ways to win your heart?

- Flowers. All occasions

- Be considerate of me and my time

- Breakfast foods

- Coffee

- Hold my hand

73. What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you? Send me flowers at work, make me breakfast in bed, and braid my hair, write me a poem

74. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for? A gorgeous smile

75. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you? I had a bad day at work and when I came home my husband had made my favorite breakfast for dinner and lit candles for us 🥰

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone? The sweetest thing I’ve ever done was probably when my parents were coming back from vacation, and I cleaned their house and I made them grilled chicken thighs and veggies for dinner and brought baklava over as well so they had something to eat, and I told them I wouldn’t be able to come over until the next day and then me and beba surprised them (I made sure beba got a good nap in that day too since we were up late waiting for them to come home)

81. Who are five people you find attractive?

- Ryan Reynolds (he’s hilarious)

- Rosamund Pike (she’s scary hot)

- Cillian Murphy (he’s so sweet looking)

- Charlie Hunham (lawd help)

- Kevin James (he’s so funny)

[bnhxwks]

For the self ship ask … 💋🎉

💋 - Where do they like to kiss you the most?

HANDS!! AND WRISTS!! i have pretty hands (or at least i think so!) and i just know he would have such a fascination with them. kissing my knuckles, the back of my hand, on my wrist to feel my pulse...so sweet, so delicate <3

🎉 - How would your f/o plan your birthday? Do they set up a party or take you out to a casual date to your favorite place?

he's a romantic at heart (i truly believe this. he's touch starved and stupid but i know he's soooo sweet) and i just...i feel like he would go behind my back and plan a surprise party where he would convince all of my friends in various places to come in. he knows how much i miss each and every one of them and how i would give anything in the world to be in the same room as all of them just one more time, and he would make it happen. but he would also require that we celebrate privately...obviously <3

[blindmagdalena]

honestly i love imagining the reader trying to ride homelander for the first time and him moaning/being overstimulated when she sits on him and her forgetting who he is for a second and going 'shit, did i hurt you?' and him just. being so conflicted by that phrase. of course a human can't ever hurt him and you should watch your tone but also... it's nice you care so much for him. makes him feel cared for, in a way

18+! Given the sounds he makes, no one could blame you for mistaking one for pain. That sharp gasp and the breathless keening moan that follows it.

"Oh fuck," you breathe, hand braced on his bare chest, legs tightly bracketing his hips. He's sweltering beneath you, holding your hips in trembling hands. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

He opens his pleasure-bleary eyes, confused.

It'd be laughable if he wasn't so delirious. You? Hurt him? No, it's another matter entirely. He's accustomed to his gloves and his padded suit acting as a barrier to the world, to the overwhelm of sensation, but he has none of that when he's beneath you.

He's completely at the mercy of the wet, clenching heat of you. It's a betrayal of his stamina that he becomes too sensitive to continue long before he's finished with you.

"What? No, nngh, it's... y'just... y'just feel really fucking good," he says, nearly chokes on that last word. "Too good. So much. It's so much."

"Do you want to stop?" You ask, touching his jaw. Your thumb strokes his cheek and he moans for the tenderness of it. For the care. He'd begun to think there wasn't anyone who could witness what he's capable of and still think to treat him gently.

"No! No, just... just stay... Stay like this," he says, holds you still while he recovers.

You oblige him—you always do—and bend over to kiss him. Your lips are slow and loving against his, coaxing. You cup his face with both hands and sit with him inside you, feeling you, tasting you. It's torturous bliss. He slips his tongue into your mouth, greedy for as much as he can get despite the magnitude of it all, and you lick right back into his.

With a smile, you sink down until your chests are pressed together. His hands slide up your back and he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, needing you more than he's never needed anything in his life. Your lips are like velvet against his, slick with spit and kiss swollen. It's so much more than he's ever had, so much more than he knows how to handle.

He comes just like that, without having to move a muscle, his cry swallowed up by your dreamy kisses.

[greykolla-art]

We need more of the werewolf girlfriend. (Pretty please?)

Oh no, Don’t ask about my foster oc’s I can’t be normal about them!😱❤️

Her name is Mús (mouse) and I’m still trying to nail down her design!😂

Here she is with her tiny bastard boyfriend ,Vespríus.👇

My author friend created them so they are just my foster children, but I love them so much!

[shrimparts-blog888]

In my meme era 💅

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.

[lizaisdrawing]

Your human Wally Darling design is so JoJocoded

I don’t know how to feel about that 😭

That’s hilarious ty for sharing

[2-dsimp]

What would Nokka do if he had a streamer wife and just for fun 🤭 she does like a rating anime man with my husband stream how would Nokka react ???

(Also thank youu soo much for all your amazing work can't wait for more💗)

“Wanna rate something? You can rate this dick that’s gonna get you right. If you keep rating another goddamned man. I don’t give a shit if they’re fictional! I’m the only ten out ten in this house!”

Let me ask you this how do YOU guys think he’d react since I’m noticing a trend of yall just wanting to piss him off. Knowing damn well he’d have you in a bedazzled wheelchair with everybody in the neighborhood. Giving y’all the side eye seeing you get handicapped/put on bed rest for a couple of weeks. 😭

[fcthots]

Heyy! i hope you're having a wonderful day today let's start with that! <3 Soo I know many people find the Jason Todd friends with benefits au hot but personally...I CAN'T. My softy self will cry of jealousy so hard because of the no strings attached thingy. I couldn’t help imagine reader and Jason in that situation (hope this is understandable its my first ask and im still working on my english!) Love your writings and please don't feel pressured to write if you're not feeling up to it!

no bc i have been thinking about this and IEDJFHNEIJF i have opinions. There is only ONE (1) correct way to do fwb w jason and it is ANGST.

You're both hopelessly in love with each other. You both know it, but you can't be everything you want to be. You can't have the one thing you want most, but this will just have to be enough.

His eyes always linger on you. No matter what you're doing. It's like he gets drunk on just watching you move. He'll sit on your couch after he swore he'd stop coming over. He watches you wash dishes and wipe down the counters. He twitches every time you move as if he wants to stop you, as if he wants to do it for or with you, anything for you to not do it by yourself, but he doesn't get up, only watches. Watches you like you're a deity and he is your most devout follower. Watches you with so much adoration that you swear he's in love with you, but he'll be gone before you wake up, and you'll fall asleep to him saying "we can't do this again," but he'll come back. He'd come back in a hurricane, tornado, earthquake, anything to see your face. You swear he's in love with you, but then he'll say he doesn't want to see you again, even if you know he'll come back. You tell yourself that wanting and needing are different things. He doesn't want to need you. You try and tell yourself he loves you, but he makes sure to tell you he doesn't.

You take him back every time. You take him back like he didn't leave you in the middle of the night. Take him back like he didn't say that it was the last time. You take him back like you actually want him. He'll let himself believe it, because he wants you so bad, but he can never let you know that. He needs you like a drowning man needs air, but he cannot have you. He cannot keep you, but how is he supposed to tell you that? Sometimes when he slips in through your window soaked with rainwater and you wrap his towel snug around his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair, and he swears you love him too, but it's better if you don't so he lets himself believe it. He lets himself believe you don't love him the way he loves you, so he can pretend he isn't killing you when he leaves before dawn. He knows he has to leave. He has to keep you safe. Safe from the world. Safe from him. He'll only break your heart if you let him keep it, but he breaks it every time he puts it down to leave.

He's in love with you, but protecting you comes first even if it only hurts you both more. You will take anything he'll give you. You undo each other. You lay yourselves bare for only the other person to see. It only hurts you, but you can't stop. You can't stop because it's too much, but not enough. It is all you have and ruining what you have. You hate each other for it. You love each other. You scream his name every night. Sometimes he draws it out of you, and other nights you scream it into the sky with tears in your eyes. You will never forgive each other. There is nothing to forgive. The poison tastes sweet when it comes from your lover's hand.

[ak319]

I absolutely love ur platonic yandere Arthur fic!!

Also I wanted to ask what would happen when a dangerous situation arose in the camp and reader got caught in the middle and gotten shot or had an injury because of it.

💌 Tysm for reading and the ask! This one surely has the potential to be fluff!

The fire crackled softly as you sipped your (tea/coffee), lost in thought. It was around 6 p.m., and Arthur, Dutch, and a few others had gone out on a heist. Though you dreaded the nature of their work, you still found yourself hoping everything went smoothly, if only to keep them safe. You hated the thought of praying for your brother's return at the expense of others’ losses, yet a part of you couldn’t help but wish that the innocent came away unscathed.

With most of the gang out, the camp was quieter than usual, leaving just you, Pearson, Hosea, Annabelle, and John by the fire. But the unexpected arrival of shadowy figures made your stomach twist, the O' Driscoll boys. Tensions with them had been escalating, and now they stood at the edge of the camp, their expressions dark and unyielding.

Annabelle gripped your arm, pulling you close. “Stay by me,” she whispered, as Hosea and Pearson stepped forward, attempting to keep the peace. John joined them, his hand twitching near his belt, and you grimaced, knowing his quick temper could easily escalate things.

“(Y/N), get to your tent!” Annabelle hissed urgently, her grip tightening on your arm. Her voice was low, almost a growl. You both being still unnoticed by the men feet away in the dark.

“What? I’m not leaving you here alone-”

“I can handle myself. You’re not ready for this, but here, take this,” she said, pressing a revolver into your hands. “Just in case.”

You hesitated, then ducked back toward your tent, heart pounding. Once inside, you doused the lantern and crouched in the shadows, revolver aimed at the tent’s entrance. Every muffled insult and tense laugh outside made your pulse race as you waited, breath held, bracing for whatever might come.

Then, gunshots rang out, mingling with the frantic neighs of horses. Shit. Shit. The situation had escalated. Agony twisted through you, both mentally and physically, as you sat there in the pitch dark, clueless about what was unfolding outside. Your lips moved in silent prayers, hoping for everyone’s safety and Arthur’s swift return.

The tent flap flew open, and Annabelle’s distinct shout of protest echoed outside. You recoiled as a man stepped in, his eyes flashing with surprise when they landed on you. Before he could react, you squeezed the trigger without hesitation. The bullet struck his thigh, and he doubled over with a furious growl of pain.

"AGH! You bitch!" He lunged forward, and the man’s weight crashed onto you, knocking the air from your lungs. "Little rat," he snarled through the pain, his hands gripping your wrists with bruising force, forcing the revolver from your fingers. Panic clawed at you as you struggled beneath him, desperate to twist free. You kicked hard, aiming for his injured thigh, and he grunted, momentarily loosening his grip and punching your face twice in return.

"You got some nerve...maybe we can just take you with us."

Taking advantage of his distraction, you managed to wrestle one hand free and clawed at his face, your nails digging into his cheek. He cursed, reeling back, but his fist connected sharply with your ribs, sending a fiery shock of pain through your side. You gasped, the sound cut short as he pressed down harder, his hand fumbling for the revolver between you.

You thrashed, trying to pry the gun from his grip, both of you wrestling for control. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the revolver, and you tugged with all your might. But then, with a deafening crack, the gun went off, and pain seared through your shoulder as the bullet tore into you.

The shock overtook you first, numbness washing over your arm before the agony settled in, hot and blinding. The world spun as you gasped, fighting to stay conscious, but the weight of him bore down, and the pain was almost unbearable. Then a second shot resounded but this one targeted the man, killing him and his body instantly falling over, half of his body still on you.

"HEY! Oh, God! Ms. ANNABELLE! (Y/N) has been shot!" John shouted as he crouched beside you and soon Annabelle entered, the silence outside indicated that maybe it had ended, but you didn't have the strength to ask, your mind focused on the pain and the trauma of what had just occurred, making you lose your senses. Dimly, you heard Annabelle’s frantic voice somewhere outside the tent, yelling for help, but the darkness started to close in, dragging you under.

⋆⋆⋆

When Arthur returned to camp along with Dutch, Charles and Sean, he didn't even imagine that his day would end like this. That he would hear about an attack on the camp and that too when they weren't here, when he wasn't here. The happiness that had enveloped him due to the successful heist had diminished in a flick of a wrist, and on top of that, he got informed of what had happened with…you.

Arthur’s jaw clenched as he watched you lying there, fragile and bruised beneath Annabelle’s watchful gaze. The fury rising within him was unlike anything he’d felt before, a white-hot rage that blazed through every fibre of his being. It was one thing for these men to skirmish with him and the gang, to take potshots or swipe supplies. But this… this was different. They’d targeted the heart of his camp. They’d come after you, knowing full well you were defenseless. And that, he swore, would be the last mistake they'd ever make.

"She's…fine. She will be. I wanted to take her to the clinic but decided against it as it still might be unsafe out there so, I treated her here…"

He barely heard Annabelle’s voice as she spoke, her words filtering in slowly through the storm in his mind. Each shallow breath you took sounded louder to him than the gunfire he’d just come from. His fists balled tightly, his nails biting into his palms as his focus honed to a single thought, revenge.

Arthur spun around, his boots thudding heavily on the ground as he headed for the stables. He was blind to the concerned glances cast his way, blind to the way Dutch and Hosea turned in alarm as he tore through the camp with a single, furious purpose.

“Arthur! Where the hell you off to now?!” Dutch’s voice broke through the clamor of his rage, but Arthur didn’t slow down.

"Going to settle the score." He’d take every one of those bastards down, one by one if he had to. They’d pay for what they’d done, for the way they’d left you, his only real family, his anchor, his one solace in a life torn apart by violence. They attacked his fucking honour.

Arthur mounted his horse and gave Dutch a final look over his shoulder, his eyes fierce and dark with purpose. Without another word, he dug his heels in, spurring his horse into a gallop as he disappeared into the night, bound for blood.

Dutch watched him go, an uneasy grimace crossing his face. “Charles, go after him. Make sure he don’t do something stupid.”

Charles nodded grimly and saddled up. But even he knew there’d be no talking Arthur down tonight.

⋆⋆⋆

After wiping out the small hideout , which didn't take too long to find anyway. He came back and since then, he remained by your side, dismissing Annabelle.

Arthur sat close, his presence solid and grounding as if he could shield you from anything else that might harm you. His eyes, though softened now, held the shadows of all he’d gone through, the remnants of his own silent terror. He looked down at your hand, opening it with a gentleness that almost felt out of place.

It took him so much to bury the fear, of nearly losing you.

The one whose mischievous giggles annoyed him when you stole and hid his hat.

The one he showed his sketches to.

The one who tended to his wounds.

The only one who could bring that hint of his mother’s cooking.

“Here,” he murmured, pulling a small box from his pocket. “A gift.”

You blinked, lifting your gaze from your lap, a glint of curiosity breaking through your daze. He opened the box to reveal a simple yet precious pearl set, mirroring something he saw in you. But there was no escaping the knowledge of its likely origin, and you felt an old, familiar discomfort creeping up.

Before you could protest, he placed the box firmly in your hand, fingers closing over it in a silent insistence.

“It’s…I-”

“Shush. It’s yours.” He didn’t let you finish. It was the same line he always used, the one that seemed to erase the shadows of guilt whenever he brought you something from the spoils of his risky life, whether it be fruits, snacks or clothes.

“T-thank you,” you whispered, his rare smile easing some of the ache.

“I… I’m just so glad you’re safe,” he said, his voice rough as he squeezed your hand as if steadying himself as much as you. “I don’t even want to think…”

“This was bound to happen someday,” you managed to croak out, your voice scratchy yet resigned.

“No! No, it wasn't!” he argued, the tension in his voice unmistakable as he brushed a lock of hair from your face, his hand holding you steady. “I feel like… hell, like I let you down, and that just… just eats at me. I’m sorry, Chumchum." He knew that nickname annoyed you, but this time, it made you crack a smile. His grip tightened, and he leaned in, a promise in his silence, vowing to keep you safe at any cost.

“Not… your fault,” you murmured, voice faint but steady. “I’m… fine now.” Arthur nodded, a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around you in a gentle, side hug and placed a soft kiss on top of your head, careful to not cause you pain at the same time, holding you close as to make himself believe that you were here, safe and in the shelter of his arms. The warmth of his shoulder offered you a comfort you didn’t realize you’d been aching for, and before you knew it, you were crying softly, letting the weight of everything slip away against him. At that moment, he felt like a mixture of all the care you’d ever known, both fierce and gentle. Parental even.

"Don't worry, I fuckin took care of those bastards, did worse than what they did to you, won't even think of coming here ever again. Assholes." He was trying to comfort you in his own way, and somehow, this time, it worked.

For days afterwards, he hovered like a mother hen, fussing over every detail of your recovery. He made sure you rested, brought meals to your cot to feed you, and sat nearby for quiet company, even engaging in lighthearted bickering. And when he noticed the tension, took you for walks or even rides to town, be it the theatre or the circus. Whatever you wanted.

It felt so warm, like a blanket you hadn’t known you’d been missing until it was wrapped around you again. You saw how much he tried, how fiercely he watched over you, going out of his way to keep you steady. And in a way, you felt proud of him, too. You knew that, beneath the hardened shell of a man shaped by gunpowder and grit, he was still your brother.

(AN: Kay fun fact, so in English, Chum is like a petname, but in my language, Chumchum is the name of a sweet/dessert, lol.)

[reinbouxsworld]

Hii!! I love your artstyle so much <33 and also the demon slayer au was chef's kiss 💖💖💖 i would love to see more of that au honestly the characters fits their respective roles so perfectly 👌👌 Like Vil as tamayo??? Genius 👏

I'm not sure if you already drew him but I would love to see fellow honest (earnesto(??)) in your style (no pressure to do this though!)

Have a nice day/night ahead !!

Hello darling! Hope you had a nice day too!!

Thank you so much😭💜 I planning on work on this au for a little while (both as entertainment but also as a study?? mostly to get more into my animation program) but I'm rlly glad you guys like it 🤧🤧🤧 demon slayer is my favorite animation ever since Naruto so is rlly something to see people enjoying both my obsessions together 🥺🥺

I ACTUALLY DID DRAW FELLOW/ERNERSTO! I just didn't post it cause I had to speed run the event and then I just forgot it (I literally just rembered it because of your ask). Is full rendered so I think u are probably the luckiest person ever???? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ Anyway, here u have:

[inkbybambi]

Hi! Can please get #56 with ghoap x reader for Spotify 100 blurb? I am curious to see what happens... >_<

hi darling! yes absolutely, thank you for the prompt!

it's all about confidence baby / she's making me nervous, she's making me nervous

a smirk paints simon's lips as he leisurely sips his whiskey. two fingers, love — he had asked when you offered him a drink.

you gave him three with a glittering smile and a wink.

johnny is a right mess, nervously fiddling with his glass that’s still untouched, salted rim of his top-shelf tequila enticing, but not enough to actually take it.

you pout when you walk by, ready to refill him, your own glass hidden under the table to take one with him, but it’s still as neat as when you first placed it in front of him.

you open your mouth to say something, but a call from the other end of the bar catches your attention. another quick look to johnny shows he’s no closer to taking his drink. you slink away, your own glass untouched.

the bar is decorated with flashes of silver and gold, glitter dusting the countertops to ring in the new year. but you were the most gorgeous creature there and soap can’t look away.

“it’s been an hour, mate,” gaz slurs as he comes to the bar, his third glass of the night already empty. “just ask ‘er out.”

simon snorts into his glass, far too amused for soap’s liking.

gaz tips his glass in your direction, and you visibly brighten. they are your favorite regulars, after all.

“another one already, pretty boy?” your voice floats over the music, teasing, paired with a lethal grin that makes soap weak in the knees. soap knows the pet name isn’t directed at him, but his face heats and he ducks his head. you wouldn’t be able to tell in the low light of the bar anyway, but he doesn’t want to risk it.

“johnny,” you whine, and he can’t ignore you when you sound so sad. he looks up, the pout on your face even worse as you eye his glass. “do you not like it? it’s your favorite.”

gaz has a fresh drink in hand but is pointedly not leaving. he knocks soap’s shoulder — wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it — so now everyone’s attention was on him. your eyes are extra sparkly under the lights, and soap decides it’s now or never.

“can ah take ye on a date?” he blurts out, blush hot on his cheeks, heart doubling over itself.

your answering smile is blinding, perching up on your toes enough to lean over the counter. your fingers are soft on his cheeks, if not a bit sticky from the drinks you’ve been pouring all night, but he doesn’t care when your lips press against his.

the kiss isn’t perfect, both of you too caught up in smiling to kiss proper, but you give him a cheeky bite to his bottom lip before pulling away, a promise for more later.

price comes to gather his boys, motioning to a billiards table that just opened up for them. he gives you a nod in acknowledgment, and you make sure they’re all topped up on their drinks before they amble away. soap finally gives in to do a shot with you, and price mutters christ under his breath when you pass soap the lime from between your teeth.

“we’ll see you at home, doll,” simon calls as soap drags him away, saying that he’ll beat gaz and price this time, for sure.

[blindmagdalena]

I’m so sorry Amy this is NASTY but from the moment I saw the chest fuzz on HL my first thought was how sensitive it would make the nips when fucking cause of the texture

18+ homelander x reader. boob stuff, body hair appreciation, overstimulation, flying sex, cream pie. never apologize to me i will always make it nastier. 🖤

At first the brush of it is divine. It wrings a gasp from low in the back of your throat, has you kneading the taut muscles of his back while he pounds into you. Homelander's body hair isn't overly coarse, but it hardly matters when his chest is pressed flush to yours, his lips on your throat.

You feel his every huff and whimper more than you hear them. They pair perfectly with the desperate grip he has on your hips, holding you in place with his whole body as he fucks you against the ceiling.

Now the grind of his chest against yours is beginning to take a toll. You shiver with his every move, growing more and more tender with the friction. Your cunt quivers tight around his cock and he stifles a hot moan into the crook of your neck.

His cock, more thick than long and nicely curved, strokes that sweet spot inside you that strikes stars behind your eyelids with every snap of his hips. You fist your hand in his hair and pull until his lips meet yours.

"Fuck," he gasps against your lips, threads of saliva snapping between your hungry mouths. "You drive me fucking crazy."

"Don't blame me for that," you respond breathlessly, licking right back into his mouth. "You were there when I got here."

He grins, giving a ravenous little growl and a sharp thrust. "Fine. Crazier."

The two of you climax like that, entwined and floating high off the ground, your ascension halted only by the height of the ceiling. Only once the aftershocks fade out does Homelander begin to sink back down to the bed. You feel as if you're in the clouds, floating on euphoria and his warm, soft body.

Still trembling, you lift yourself up. This is how you had started; astride him, riding him until the wild bucks of his hips had lifted you both up, up, up.

You smooth your hands down your own chest, goosebumps erupting everywhere. You give his pec a slap, the thwap of it dulled by the padding of hair. "You rug burned my whole chest," you chastise, though your tone is colored by your smile.

He sucks in a breath, contemplating the condition of your skin as he blows out a raspberry. He cups your breasts in gentle hands and pushes them together and up, meeting the pearl-soft flesh of them with his lips. He kisses apologies all over each one, flicking his tongue over your nipples for the way you gasp and tug his hair when he does.

His spent cock, still buried deep inside you, throbs valiantly as he sucks one breast into his mouth, tonguing your nipple in slow circles. You shudder and grind down in retaliation, the both of you hyper-sensitive, moving leisurely against one another as your satiation passes and the need for more grows.

You ride him slow and deep until he comes again. You rub your clit to the feel of his mouth on your chest and his come dripping out of you until you, too, orgasm, the tight spasm of your cunt reducing the most powerful man in the world to a simpering mess between your thighs.

The two of you untangle your limbs only to jigsaw right back together, his back to your sensitive chest, your arms around him, fingers scratching through the very hair you complained about.

"I could start waxing again," he says, words lazily slurring together.

"Don't you dare," you murmur, nuzzling the spot just behind his ear, kissing the shell of it. He interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to his chest. "You're perfect as is."

You don't need to see him to know he's smiling. You feel it in the slant of his lips when he presses the back of your hand to them.

[sophie-darling-beagle-blog]

Guys!

GUYS!!

GUYS!!!!

Look what I got commissioned from my online sister.

https://baskettgif.tumblr.com/?source=share

@baskettgif

It's Wally and Barnaby with their future child (who's an egg at the moment 😂)

You should totally check my sister out! Thank you so much baskettgif!!!

[shrimparts-blog888]

Actually on the topic of inspiration, heres a pic I’ve actually waited a whole year for the perfect oppurtunity to send to someone.

This is the best image in my photo library and I will never lay my eyes on something better than it

This is just a sketch but I think I’ll color it later 💫💫💫

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I have greatly enjoyed your comics ever since i saw them and have been quietly Iurking as ya do- thought youd want to know that i played hollow knight based on how enthusiastic u were and how fuckin cool youre art of hk/mdzs is. OH and watched dungeon meshi. Your influence is vast and i have been enriched. Keep on keepin on 🫡

You have bestowed the highest honour upon me.