#the less they see me the nicer they are to me

[bishopony]

How draw wings.

first thing, references all day long. I like to use physical books that I pick up from thrift stores like this massive book on birds of prey-

it's got giant spreads that are really easy to look closely at. I really prefer physical books and images over digital references unless I need something really specific cause that way I've already got the good poses bookmarked and I don't have to go searching

If you don't have access to any good books, I definitely recommend getting reference images from stock image sites like pexel.

Step 2 is simplification. Don't try to draw exactly what you see; instead look at the major shapes in the wing. In the image above I can separate the major parts of the wings into these shapes: (doing all this with a trackpad so bear with me)

which can be further simplified to something like this:

don't be afraid to play with shapes either to make them look nicer and less stiff. definitely look into wing anatomy as well, I'm not an expert on that and there are definitely people out there who can explain better than me lol

[cherbii]

FRIENDS | modern!dealer! Ryomen Sukuna

summary ➜ your plug has been a lot nicer to you, and by a lot, he has you bent over sideways in his car, but you swear you two are strictly friends.

warnings ➜ language, weed use, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, high sex, car sex, choking, titty slapping (sue me), gagging, riding, spanking. mdni

You had bought weed from Sukuna a few times, and each he’d charge you less and less until you didn't have to pay anymore, something Sukuna never does.

You'd taken this as a sign that your presence was somewhat welcomed around his, so at a frat house dorm party, you see him in the corner, a bored look in his eye and a blunt dangling from his lips while he's surround by his friends, Geto, Gojo and Choso, all four looking like guard dogs, but really, they're waiting for customers.

You told your best friend, Shoko, that you're off to the bathroom when really, you just wanted to see your favourite (only) drug dealer. So with the swing of the hips, you strut towards him.

His dark, crimson gaze catches your movement and trails your body as you sway towards his group of boys, his eyes lingering on your hips for a brief moment before his eyes flick back to your own, his lips twitching up into a slight smirk as he watched you approach.

The three other boys turn to look at you too, clearly curious as to what you were going to do. "What do you want?" Sukuna asks, his voice gruff and deep as he takes the blunt from between his lips, his eyes roaming your body for a moment longer before he looks up to fix his gaze on yours once more. His friends stay silent, watching the interaction between yourself and Sukuna with curious gazes.

"Can't a friend say ‘hi', 'Kuna?" You tilt your head to the side while your fingers reach out to his chest, manicured nails tracing along his hard chest under the thin cotton of his shirt until they reached the blunt, before you plucked it out from his lips.

He gives you a slight look of faux annoyance, but can't help the smirk that appears on his face at your forwardness.

Sukuna’s friends all smirk, Gojo leaning in to whisper something in Choso's ear before looking back at you and Sukuna. Geto just looks bored, his eyes lazily scanning over the two of you.

You take a long inhale of the blunt before shifting your weight to the other foot. "You never introduced me to your friends, asshole."

His smirk deepens slightly, and he gives a small sigh. "They're a bunch of pussies. You don't 'need' to know them." He says, his voice low as he leans in a little closer, his breath tickling the skin of your exposed neck.

His friends give a small gasp, and Gojo rolls his eyes. "Rude much?" He says, his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, why don't you introduce us to your girlfriend?" A corner of Geto's lips tugged up, even under the vibrant pink and red flashing lights, you could see the piercing violet of his eyes.

A muscle twitches in Sukuna's jaw, and he turns his dark gaze to Geto. "She's not my girlfriend.” He says, his voice icy as his gaze fixes back to you, his eyes trailing down your body lazily.

The three other boys all smirk at his comment, and Gojo leans in a little closer. "You sure about that?" He asks, a hint of mockery in his tone.

You roll your eyes. "We aren't dating."

"See?" Sukuna quips, his lips curling into a smirk. "I told you."

"We are just friends. It's been nothing more and won't be anything less." You shot back, all while leaning more into Sukuna, and bringing the blunt back to your lips.

You said this, yet your mind couldn't help but go to the situation you were in just the other day, pressed up against Sukuna, on his lap in the backseat of his car while you two shared a blunt.

As the music in the car began to fill the air, he leant back comfortably in his seat. He could feel the warmth of your body against his, your scent filling his senses and making his head feel fuzzy for a moment.

He reached over and takes a long drag from the blunt, the smoke filling the car and making the air around your both hazy. His free hand found its way to your thigh, his thumb tracing mindless circles against the material of your skirt.

A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his touch, while you take the blunt from his lips and taking a hit yourself, eyes staring back at his slender, vermillion ones. The car fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, save for the soft music playing quietly through the radio.

Sukuna’s hand on your thigh started to inch further up under your skirt, fingers tracing the soft flesh of your inner thigh with the lightest touch possible, almost teasingly.

He's completely focused on the sight of you in his car, your body pressed up against his, and the way your skirt has ridden up just enough that he can feel your soft skin beneath his hand.

He leant in closer, his breath hot on your skin as he lets out a breath. "This skirt of yours is too short, doll.” He murmured, his voice low and thick with desire as his hand slowly moved up your thigh further.

You grin, it's lazy and loopy. "No, I don't think it's short enough, 'Kuna."

A smirk quirks at the corner of his lips, and he let out a low rumble of amusement at your words. His hand moves higher and higher up your thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"Oh really?" His breath hot against your skin as he speaks, sending a shiver of desire down your spine.

You nod. "Yeah, I think it should be this short." You tell him, while grabbing the fabric of your skirt and raising it until it's bunched at your waist, exposing your thin panties that's formed a neat wet patch between your legs.

His eyes darkened, his breath leaving him in a gasp as a possessive, feral look flashed in his vermilion irises. His hand that was on your thigh grips your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh there as he pulls you even closer to him.

He lets out a low growl, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, "You know damn well what you're doing, don't you?"

"No? Show me?"

A dark smirk creeps across his lips at your reply. With a quick and smooth movement, his hand slides from your hip to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

His grip on your waist tightens, holding you in place as he leans in, his lips hovering a mere breath away from yours. "You want me to show you what you do to me?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as his eyes rake over your exposed skin.

"Show me, and don't hold back." A low, feral growl rumbles in his chest, and he leans in to press a hot, possessive kiss to your neck. He kisses and nips at the skin there before he starts to trail down, his tongue laving along your pulse point as he murmurs,

"You don't have to tell me twice." His hand on your chin moves to the strap of your bra, his touch light and teasing as he begins to unhook it with practiced ease.

You groan, before plopping the blunt back between your lips, now with both hands free, you sink them into his cotton candy coloured hair. A low, appreciative hum rumbles in his chest as you thread your fingers through his hair, your touches and soft sounds of pleasure only serve to push his possessive nature further.

He pushed your bra strap down as his lips travel lower, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your exposed skin. His tongue darted out, tracing lazy patterns along the exposed flesh, his breath hot against your skin.

His tongue teased and probed until he's found the sweet spot where your neck and collarbone meets. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, his teeth just harsh enough to make your body shudder.

Sukuna’s hand, which had been on your chin, moves down, his fingers tracing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his touch light and taunting.

His lips make their way down your chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses in their wake.

His free hand, which had been unbuttoning your shirt, pushes the material of the garment down your shoulders, exposing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. He pulls back for a moment, his eyes dark and darkened as he drinks in the sight of your body almost fully exposed to him.

“'Kuna, I wanna touch you too." You groan, handing him back the blunt.

A small, smug smile plays at the corners of his lips as he takes the blunt from you once more, his gaze slowly raking over your body as you speak.

"I have no objections to that," he says, his voice low and husky with desire. His eyes darkened as he looks over your near-nude state, and he takes another long drag of the joint as he murmurs, "But only if you ask nice."

A soft, needy sigh escapes your lips before you rock your hips forward, enough to have you balanced on your knees and your hands go to his shoulders. "Please can I touch you, 'Kuna? I wanna feel you."

A low growl rips from his chest as he looks down at you, his gaze dark and filled with desire. He brings his hand up to your jaw, tilting your head up as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip.

"You look so needy right now," he murmurs, his voice smooth and full of barely restrained restraint. "You want to touch me that badly, do you?"

You hurriedly nod. His smirk widened at your eagerness, and he let out a low hum of satisfaction as he lets his fingers trail down from your jaw, tracing along the column of your neck.

"Then come and touch me," he said, his voice low and rough as he leant back against the seat of the car, the blunt still in one hand as he looks at you with a heated gaze. "Show me how much you wanna touch me."

With quick, agile movements, your hand drops from his shoulders to his sweats, eagerly tugging down the waistband.

Sukuna’s breath hitched slightly in his throat at your sudden boldness, his eyes darkening as they rake over you. A low, possessive rumble rumbles in his chest, and he looks at you with a mixture of admiration and lust.

"Eager, aren't you?" He says, his voice husky and rough with want. He leans back against the car seat, the back of his head resting against the soft material, and he lets his hand rest on your shoulder, a silent invitation for you to continue.

"Shut up, don't act like you don't enjoy this." You mumbled, moving onto his boxers next before working to get those off.

A dark, almost predatory smile curled at the corner of his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you work.

"I do.” He said simply, his voice a low, rough rumble. He leaned back, his head resting against the seat as he allows you to take charge, his eyes dark and full of possessive desire as he watches you.

His hand that was on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, a silent command not to move too fast.

Your eyes would not and could not be pried off his aching cock that sprung free, the same pattern of tattoos that ran down his cheeks, chest and back also ran down the thick, veiny shaft, a aching, pink tip that weeped arousal.

Sukuna’s breath hitched slightly as you examine him, and a low, quiet noise rumbles in his chest as he lets you look.

You could almost feel the heat radiating from him in waves, his eyes dark and filled with desire. Tenderly, eagerly, lovingly, hastily, you crane your neck down and let your saliva dribble past your lips and onto his fat tip.

"Yeah, just like that." Sukuna groaned as you wrapped your hand around him and pumped in languid strokes. He watched you with eyes dropping shut as he brought the blunt to his lips, taking a large inhale before tipping his head back and letting the smoke chimney out.

You pumped and twisted your wrist, ensuring his cock was evenly lubricators before removing your hand. "Gonna ride you, 'Kuna." You told him as you leant back, about to take off your underwear when Sukuna stopped you.

"Leave them on." He told you, using his fingers to push it off to the side instead, exposing your glistening pussy, dripping out of pure want.

A whine was tugged from your lips when his thumb lifted and pushed against your pearled nub, rubbing hard circles. His painted nail got coated in your slick before he removed his hand altogether. Hastily, you say straighter and positioned yourself over his tip, letting it rub against your folds before it caught onto your hole.

Almost as eager, Sukuna thrusted his hips up, having his tip slip into you, having you groan out before allowing your weight to drop down onto him, his tattoos disappearing into your pussy, feeding you his cock. Not even waiting for the pain from the stretch subdue, you began to raise your hips, bouncing them up and down, lips falling open as your fingers dug into his shoulders.

"Yeah, like that. Show me how much you love this cock." Sukuna egged you on, greedy eyes trained on your pussy that gripped and squeezed him, ego boosting when he saw your thighs quiver from the strain it was to take him.

"I love it, makes me feel so good." You moaned, leaning back onto the backs of the front seats and swivelling your hips, switching between the circular motions and the pivot motions.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull when you felt his fingers reach out and wrap around your neck, squeezing. His other hand went around you, and squeezed at the flesh of your ass, leaving crescent shaped dents in its woke.

"I can feel you getting tired. Can't do shit properly when you're getting fucked on my dick? Stupid slut." Sukuna grinned, palm whipping your ass cheeks until his heart's content, until they were sore and tender.

"Please? Please? Please help m-me?" You managed to get out, letting Sukuna use his hand on your throat and now the other on your hip to piston you on his cock, his hips thrusting up to meet yours.

You let your one arm fall limply while the other traced around your breasts and down the expanse of your stomachs before it reached between your legs and found your aching clit, fingers swirling around to enlighten your pleasure.

"Do that, makes you squeeze around me tighter, shit," Sukuna groaned, veins popping out on his forehead as he heaved out ragged breaths. "Dumb yourself down on this dick."

Sukuna's eyes ravaged you, seeing you crumble under his touch. His cock plummeting into the funny depths of your pussy, convulsing around him, making him curse.

The blunt was discarded, now burning out on the car seat. Sukuna let his fingers unravel from your throat, and allow for them to fly in the air and land on your breasts, landing a harsh slap against your sensitive nipple. "Mm, 'Kuna. More." You blabbered, head thrown back and fingers rubbing your clit raw.

Sukuna grinned wolfishly, bringing his hand up and slapping your other breast, watching you squirm. His fingers then went to your nipple and pinched the sensitive bud, until you cried out, feeding into his primal and sadistic fantasies. He didn't give your nipple it's time to recover before he was squeezing away, groaning when you clenched down on him harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! 'Kuna 's sore!" You whined, grinding your hips onto his. You whimpered when he removed his fingers, until they were suddenly working their way past your lips, pressing against your throat and pushing your tongue down.

"Shut up, you dumb slut. Your body is just too good, it's making me want to destroy you," he bit his grin, eyes dark when he felt you squeeze him. "You like that idea? Need me to destroy you?"

You frantically nodded, breath knocked out of you when your back hit the plush seats, now having Sukuna hover over you.

His right hand gripped the seat above while the other gripping your hip, before his hips were thrusting into you, relentlessly.

The car windows steamed over with smoke and condensation. Loud moans and mewls tumbled from your babbling lips as you felt your brain become nothing short of mush, oozing out from between your legs, arousal dripping down his cock.

"W-Who knew that selling some high class princess would lead to me slutting her out in my car, h-huh?" Sukuna gloated, before a marvellous idea sprung in his mind. His fingers found the window button and pressed it, letting the glass roll down. "Gonna let everyone hear how good I'm making you feel."

His hips nearly pulled his cock all the way out of you, before it plummeted back in, leaving you to loudly moan his name.

"Yeah, tell everyone who's making you feel this good."

"You... Su...Kuna!" You moaned loudly, letting anyone and everyone hear you. "I'm—I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum! Gonna—!" A raw, loud moan ripped from the deep confines of your chest as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a brick wall.

Your nails dug into the car seat and your back arched, mouth wide open and cross eyes as Sukuna fucked you through your orgasm.

"Shit! Fuck! I'm cumming too, gonna cum deep in this pussy..." Sukuna groaned, his becoming sloppy as he spilled inside of you, filling you full of cum that began to drip out of you. "Shit, doll. Might keep you around now. Might need to make you mine."

And now you blinked up at the snowette, who peered down at you with a smirk, eyeing the hand that wrapped around your waist. "You sure? Like really sure?"

"Yep, we are strictly friends." You nodded.

"Sweet, so youre single?"

And Sukuna nearly shredded Gojo to pieces.

[cyarikaplease]

this is the way to behave

professor!din x student!reader

summary: act up in professor djarin’s class, suffer the consequences.

warnings: smut

You’re in your senior year at Coruscant University, inching closer and closer to finally graduating. You’re a history major and while you love history with all of your heart, school is draining you. So when your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies this semester, you’re less than thrilled. She sends you a copy of your schedule on your data pad and you take a look at the Mandalorian Studies section you’re in. And apparently, it’s being taught by Professor Djarin? You don’t even know who that is. Maybe they’re new to campus or an adjunct professor? Whoever they are, you hope they’re a good professor, or else this is about to be the longest and most boring semester of your life. 

You send your schedule to your friends, Helia and Mione, also history majors. To your delight, they’re both in Mandalorian Studies with you. At least you can goof off together. You’re so close to graduating that class isn’t that big of a deal for you anymore, you already have some promising job prospects after graduation. You’ll just have to suffer through this boring class. But at least you and your friends will do it together… Right?

-

It’s the first day of the semester. You’re about to head to Mandalorian Studies, in a particular part of campus you don’t normally frequent. The classroom is your typical university lecture hall, with a pitched floor with a desk situated in the center, large screens behind the desk, and seats on each of the steps. Your friends wave to you and you head over to them, sitting in the seat they saved. 

���Are you ready for the most boring class ever?” Helia snickers. 

“Don’t get me started,” you groan. 

You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, shielding them from the bright lights of the lecture hall. Until you hear a collection of gasps followed by one of your classmates saying, “That’s the professor?”

Your eyes fly open to see a Mandalorian in shiny beskar armor heading down the steps to the desk in the center of the floor. Kriff, you didn’t think the professor himself would actually be a Mandalorian. 

He faces the class, a group of about forty students, and takes a deep breath. 

“Hello. I’m Professor Djarin. Welcome to Mandalorian Studies. This semester we’ll be learning about Mandalorian culture starting from the beginning until the present day.”

Maker, his voice is so nice, with a sultry modulated tone. Maybe you could get used to this. At least the boring topics will have a soothing feel to them. 

That is if you pay attention. Because all of a sudden class is over and you didn’t retain a single piece of information. Great. 

As you leave the classroom you glance over your shoulder and get one last look at Professor Djarin. He notices and his visor locks onto you, so you look away quickly and feel your cheeks go hot. 

Upon entering the hallway your friends say, “Total snooze fest, right?” followed by a laugh. 

“I mean…” you respond. 

“Don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that,” Mione says. 

“I didn’t enjoy it. I just think his voice is nice.”

“Maybe it would be nicer if he wasn’t talking about the most mind-numbing topics in the world,” Helia says. 

“Yeah… I wasn’t paying attention,” you admit. 

“Oof, don’t make that a habit if you actually want to pass. I have no idea how this guy grades,” Helia says, pretending to scold you. 

“Oh, he seems like a total hardass,” you snort. 

You all groan in unison. Here’s to the start of a long semester. 

-

It’s been a few weeks since your class with Professor Djarin started. You’ve been doing… alright. It’s been a little tough to pay attention between zoning out to the sound of his deep voice or your friends goofing off. You got a B+ on your last paper, not your best but also not your worst! It was a paper on the Siege of Mandalore during the Clone Wars, so lots of information and also a heavy topic. 

You’ve also come to a realization you haven’t shared with your friends… Professor Djarin is hot, like really hot. You don’t even know what he looks like under all the armor but between that voice and the way he saunters into the classroom and the way he tilts his helmet to the side whenever he’s listening to someone talk, and- Kriff, you got it bad. 

You’re not even subtle about it, fully checking him out as he’s in the middle of lectures, admiring the way he rests a hand in his belt… the arrow on his glove pointing directly to where his cock is under his flight suit. 

Class is about to get a lot worse for you though. Because you’re sitting in the back like you and your friends typically do. And Professor Djarjn is explaining the Mandalorian phrase “This is the way” and… you all can’t stop laughing. 

“This is wayyy,” Helia says in the sassiest but also quietest voice she can muster. 

“This is the wahhh,” Mione says, holding back her own laughter. 

It shouldn’t be funny but it is. And you’re doing your best to stifle your laughs but it’s hard, threatening to rip themselves free from your throat. You swipe the tears from the corners of your eyes and blink a few times to regain focus to see… Professor Djarin staring directly at you. 

“Oh kriff, guys stop it,” you say, lightly slapping Helia on the arm. 

“What?” she asks before following your gaze and realizing what’s going on. “Oh,” she lets out softly. 

For the rest of the class you don’t look at each other, because if you do the laughter threatens to come back. Thankfully, Professor Djarin didn’t say anything. Maybe it’ll all be okay. 

Class is over finally and you get ready to leave. But before you pass through the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder followed by your name being called out. It’s Professor Djarin. You don’t even need to turn around to confirm it. The voice is a dead giveaway. 

You turn around to face the stone-cold glare of the T-shaped visor and take a deep breath. 

“Can you stay back for a moment?”

“S-Sure.”

“You guys don’t have to wait. I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to your friends, both of them looking like they’ve seen a ghost judging by their clammy, panicked appearance. 

This has to be about what happened in class just now. What else could it possibly be? 

But if this is about being reprimanded… Why isn’t he making them stay after class, too?

He walks past you and locks the door, before turning to you and saying, “Meet me by my desk.”

He heads down to the desk and you gulp. Why did he lock the classroom door? This can’t be good. 

You head down the steps and set your bag on an empty chair before walking over to him, facing him and his glaring stance. 

“Do you know why I’m speaking to you privately right now?”

“Look, if this is about what me, Helia and Mione were doing, I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was trying not to laugh but-”

“Oh, before we even get to the topic of that. We need to talk about you eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat, in my own classroom.”

“Uhh-”

“Oh yes, I noticed, pretty girl. Doesn’t help that you’re so obvious about it.”

You’re mortified right now, completely skipping over the fact that he called you pretty girl. As soon as this little talk is over, you’re heading to your advisor’s office and dropping this class. 

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you manage to spit out. 

“That’s all you have to say?”

“W-what do you want me to say?”

“How about I’m sorry, sir?” 

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t think that’s enough. I think you need to be punished.”

“What? Please, sir. I’ve already apologized.”

“And I said I don’t think that’s enough, pretty girl. Bend over the desk.”

You can’t deny how hot this is. Being disciplined by the hot professor? Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would happen, especially in this class. 

You move around to the back of the desk, bending over and resting on your elbows. You picked the worst day (or maybe the best day) to wear a skirt. As you bend over, your skirt rides up, exposing more of your thighs. He moves behind you, running his gloved hands along your soft flesh. 

“And who do you think you are? Wearing this short skirt to my class like a whore. Did you want my attention?”

“Maybe…”

“What was that?” he says, resting a hand on your ass. You also picked the worst day (or again, maybe the best day) to go commando. You shiver at the feeling of the leather against your bare ass. 

“Yes, sir,” you say, gasping at the end of your sentence as he runs finger along your entrance. You’re already soaked, having fantasized about him in every class since you laid eyes on him. And of course he notices, bringing his hand in front of your face to show you the physical proof. 

“Dirty, dirty girl, getting wet in class while I’m just trying to teach… Time for you to get punished.”

He moves his hand from your face and spanks you on the ass, the leather colliding with your skin. You let out a moan, the stinging feeling left on your skin in the aftermath. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he rasps by your ear. 

Another spank. Another moan, this one deeper than the last. 

“Dirty girl likes getting punished over my desk, doesn’t she?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, getting off from the sound of his voice and the feeling of his gloves on your ass. 

“Thought so,” he tuts, drawing his hand back and spanking your ass again. 

You moan again and he says, “I don’t think the spanking is enough. I think you need a real punishment.”

“Please, sir.”

He runs his hand along your wetness again before sliding a finger inside, slowly working your walls before adding a second one. You think about his gloved fingers, pumping in and out of you. Kriff, that thought drives you crazy. 

“You get to cum when I say so, got it? And don’t even think about coming without telling me, or I’ll pull out so fast.”

You whine in response, prompting him to grab you by the throat and pull you upright against him. 

“Got it?” he reiterates. 

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he teases, letting go of your throat and bending you over the desk again. 

He curls his fingers inside you, pressing up against your g-spot. You feel your pleasure mounding, teetering on the edge of orgasm. You do your best to hold off, to wait for his approval but it’s too hard. 

“Please, sir. Can I cum?”

“Not yet,” he commands. 

You whimper in response, fearing you won’t be able to hold on and you’ll be punished. 

“Please, sir,” you beg, the desperation heavy in your voice. 

“Fine,” he sighs, feigning kindness. 

You cum around his fingers, his leather-clad fingers, shaking against the desk. You shake a little bit, knees threatening to give out just from being fingered. He pulls his fingers from you once you’re done coming, spreading your release around his cock and slamming into you, giving you no time to recover. 

“Oh, kriff,” you curse, walls adjusting to the newfound length and girth inside you.

“You can take it,” he commands. 

“Yes, sir,” you spit in between your labored breathing. 

His hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks you against the desk, making it shake beneath you. He pulls you into him as he thrusts back into you, making your ass slam up against his groin, all while he talks you through it. 

“Dirty girl likes taking my cock over my desk, huh?”

“It’s- it’s so good, sir,” you respond, completely blissed out. 

“Oh, I know. And you’re taking it like such a good girl,” he praises. 

You whimper at his praise and stars cloud your vision, the euphoria swirling throughout your body.

“Can I please cum?”

“I suppose since you’re taking my cock so good, pretty girl.”

His praise does it again, pushing you over the edge. You cum around his cock, convulsing and gripping him as you ride out your high. The lecture hall is filled with the sounds of your moans and cries as he fucks you through your release. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with his own pleasure. 

He grunts and you feel his cock twitch inside you. Kriff, he’s going to cum soon. Before you can even tell him to pull out he’s painting your insides with his release, holding your hips in place. He pulls out of you once he’s done and you collapse onto the desk, your knees finally giving out. 

There’s a layer of wetness in between you and the desk. Professor Djarin chuckles and says, “Look at you. Made a mess all over my desk.” 

You pull yourself off and smooth down your skirt, averting your gaze to the floor. 

“Sorry about that,” you say sheepishly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles again. 

“Well, uh, I’m sorry about what happened in class earlier. It won’t happen again,” you respond, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

You grab your bag off the chair and quickly head out. But before you can leave through the door, he says, “Feel free to stay late after the next class,” in a sly tone, hands on hips. 

You nod, feeling your face go hot, and dart out the door. 

Yeah, you’re definitely not dropping his class now. 

[garlique]

i don't know if my parents are actually nicer to me now or if i just have built up enough skin to not be as afraid of them anymore but like. why couldn't they be nice to me like this when i LIVED with them!!

[knockknockitsnickels]

Thinking about how the Tower & the Adversary routes are connected through the Fury, and how you kind of get there by turning one into the other, and how horrified they are by what they become. Tower is about subjugation - she outright says she does not believe the two of you are on equal footing. You get the Fury from her when you assert your independence and fight back, forcing her to take you seriously as a threat and defend herself. Adversary is all about an equal fight - she prides herself on her strength, but also admires yours. You access the Fury through her by refusing to fight, watching her beat you to a pulp and become disgusted by what she does to you. IDK it is interesting how the Tower & Adversary parallel one another, and how you end up with the Fury in each route by doing what their sister route would have wanted you to do.

[fanfoolishness]

Visitation

Hunter has a conversation with a visitor. Set shortly after Plan 99. Grief, emotional whump, sleep deprivation, Hunter + Wrecker feels, Hunter + Tech feels. ~1400 words. (also omg I'm writing again yaaaay)

---

“You gotta sleep,” Wrecker mumbled for the eighth time.

Hunter shrugged him off with a glower and a scowl, his brows furrowing deeply. Just because Wrecker was right didn’t make his words any less aggravating. “I’ll sleep when there’s time,” Hunter snapped. “Leave it alone, Wreck.”

They had to keep going. The trace they were running was the first one that hadn’t come up as a total dead end. There were clues here that could point the way to Omega if they were just smart enough to figure them out and piece together Hemlock’s trail. He didn’t dare sleep on that.

Wrecker rubbed his eyes, then yawned so powerfully Hunter could hear the cracking in the joints of his jaw. “You’re no good wiped out. Neither ‘m I.”

”We’ll be fine. We’re close to something. I can tell.”

”I wanna find her too. But —“ Wrecker hesitated, worry clear in the set of his face. The muscles in his throat worked in a gulp. “Nah. Forget it.”

”What?” Hunter said, a warning note creeping into his voice. 

Wrecker waved a hand. “It’s nothing.” He got to his feet, groaning as he stood for the first time in hours. “More caf?”

”Yeah.”

“I’ll get it.”

---

The last of the caf had long since cooled, its bitter odor turning more acrid as it chilled. Hunter slugged down the dregs anyway, grimacing at the foul taste. 

Wrecker had tried to stay awake, Hunter had to give him that. But now he was hunched over the console on his folded arms, snoring quietly.

Hunter let him do it. It made sense that Wrecker would need the extra rest, since he needed to heal up after their last scrap. But Hunter couldn’t afford the same luxury, not for himself. He had to keep working.

Hunter focused as hard as he could, his head aching with the effort. He kept running over the coordinates on Tech’s datapad, vision blurring, fingertips flinching with an imperceptible frisson every time he tapped or typed or swiped.

This was Tech’s.

He shouldn’t be touching it. They’d all learned that lesson years ago. 

Hunter knew he might mess it up. Tech always had the specs set just how he liked them --

“Put that down,” Tech said from behind him. By the timbre of his voice, his annoyance level was mild, verging on moderate; there was a hint of fondness overlaid with a familiar steely tone. Tech wasn’t too irritated, but he’d get there if Hunter didn’t listen to him soon. 

Hunter stifled a chuckle, then blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He turned around slowly, his heart racing.

“You’re not -- you shouldn’t be here,” Hunter said stupidly.

Tech raised his eyebrows enough for them to arc above his goggles. “I find that rude,” he said.

“Don’t,” Hunter whispered. “You’re dead. We saw you fall.”

“Details,” Tech said, shrugging. “There’s still work to do, isn’t there? Therefore I am here.” He leaned back in the pilot’s chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You do not look well, Hunter. Tell me, are you sleeping?”

“There isn’t time.” He shook his head, willing the apparition to leave. “We have to find Omega before Hemlock hurts her.” His mind spun with awful specters, imagining the worst tests of the Kaminoans and multiplying their pain into agony of the highest order. Omega crying in a cell, strapped to a table like an animal, her voice a wailing scream --

“What makes you think he wishes to hurt her?” Tech said. “Look at the facts. His men took care to stun her. Hemlock mentioned Nala Se. Nala Se has certainly decommissioned her share of clones, but there is no evidence she would wish to harm Omega, and if Hemlock requires her cooperation… I believe Omega will be safe enough, for a time. It is simply logical.”

“You’re awfully optimistic for a dead man,” Hunter said, then dropped Tech’s datapad with a clatter, suddenly feeling sick. Did I just say that -- He stared up at Tech, holding out an unsteady hand. “I -- I’m sorry, Tech. I’m not -- I didn’t mean --”

Tech leaned forward, picking up the datapad and setting it down beside Hunter. “There is no need to apologize. I am indeed dead.”

Hunter swore loudly. “Don’t say that!”

“You just said it,” Tech pointed out. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Tech, I swear to --” Tech could be so infuriating sometimes. 

He suddenly laughed, feeling dangerously close to tears. None of this made any sense. What was going on?

Tech looked at him steadily. “You are aware of what this is, aren’t you?”

“No.” He buried his face in his hands, taking a deep breath.

“You need to sleep.” Tech held up his finger, underscoring his point. “The effects of sleep deprivation in humans are well-known and may include decreased reflexes, incoordination, irritability, immunosuppression, visual and auditory hallucinations --”

Hunter laughed again despite himself. “Great. Now you’re on my case too. Wrecker was bad enough.”

“You should go easy on him. He is only attempting to look out for you.” For a moment something painful flashed across Tech’s face, a twist of his mouth, shadows beneath his eyes. “It is important to him, Hunter. Do you understand?”

How could he understand?

The chasm gaped between them, the railcar dangling, the cold wind howling in his ears.

“Get up here! Now!” Hunter called. This wasn’t happening. Not again. There had to be time, they were going to make it -- they were all going to make it -- “That’s an order!” he screamed.

When have we ever followed orders --

A hand closed around his arm, shaking him gently. “Hunter. Hunter.”

Hunter blinked, the world snapping back to the Marauder and the stars beyond. “Saw him,” he choked. 

“Saw who?” Wrecker asked, settling into the chair beside him, looking anxious.

Hunter froze. He swallowed, looking around the empty cockpit, eyes landing on the shattered goggles. His gut twisted, and he managed a ragged breath.

“Nothing. Nothing.”

“You were yellin’,” said Wrecker, looking away. “Woke me up. I thought maybe you were having a nightmare, but your eyes were open --”

Hunter groaned. “I don’t know. Maybe I was.” He glanced at Tech’s datapad, which was on the floor where he’d dropped it. He’d thought Tech had picked it up -- 

But of course there’d been no one there.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, then bent down and picked up Tech’s datapad, handing it carefully to Wrecker. “You, uh… you keep an eye on things for a bit.”

Wrecker took it, though he hesitated. It looked so small in his hands. “Feels wrong, using this. It’s -- it’s his.”

“I know.”

“What are you gonna do?”

Hunter let out a sigh. “Gonna get some shut-eye. You were right. Keeping on like this isn’t going to find Omega any faster.” He brushed back the hair falling into his eyes, and got to his feet. He was about to turn and head to his bunk when he paused, reaching out and resting a hand on Wrecker’s shoulder. “Thanks. For looking out for me.”

Wrecker ducked his head, unable to speak for a moment. Finally he said, “s’what I’m here for.”

“Damn right it is.” Hunter gripped harder, then let go, making his way to his bunk. He rolled into it unceremoniously, more exhausted than he’d ever been in his life. He closed his eyes, and saw Omega.

They’d find her. They had to. And until then… He thought of what Tech had said, cool calm logic explaining why Omega would be safe. Maybe he was right. Maybe she’d get through this unharmed.

His mouth tightened. What Tech had said -- What a damn hallucination had said. He was losing it.

Yet Tech’s words were comforting, and he kept them close.  I believe she will be safe enough, for a time.

He’d make that time as short as possible. His fist curled in determination, then uncurled, fingers going slack as sleep took him. He dreamed of Pabu warm and sunny, the sound of waves on a rocky shore, Omega’s arms flung wide around him. He held her close, closer than he’d ever dared, an embrace that said you’ll always be our kid. 

But through Omega’s laughter and the setting sun there was an emptiness, and Hunter wandered long into the dark, looking for someone who wasn’t there.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

sometimes I suspect I am being pranked and that I somehow only have access to a version of DS9 that gradually increases the size of Kira Nerys's eyes over time. I always think, 'no, I must be imagining things. it is not possible that her eyes are That large and dewy and doe-like.' and then she appears on screen. and points a disruptor at your chest. while looking at you with the largest and dewiest and most doe-like eyes you've ever seen in your life.

this is what i see when i look at her. if u even care.

[toruq]

I feel like every time sso writes Anne’s dialogue they have to make her say some cheesy thing about how shes ready to move on.(first problem u don’t just move on from trauma it always remains part of you).. right after showing her ‘moving on’ (ex training a horsey!) and give her bits to say about her ‘moving on’ (ex photoshoots with derek!) but her long insightful bs always ends in the same shit about how she wants to rid of her bitterness and realize her own inner beauty or something like that and i’m kinda like Ok well you’re doing that already  girl. I wanna see her fuck up and then say these things, like “damn, i totally blew up at linda just then. Mc, i really want to be a better friend” rather than “man, look at all my recent accomplishments. I regret everythign I did in the past and i want to be a better person.” I personally think it more sends this message of a kind of toxic positivity that either ignores completely or hyperbolizes all wrongdoings and creates more self-pity than real optimism. even tho i think it’s sso’s weird form of redundant teaching for little kids to gain self confidence. 

[eclown]

are these your ghouls ma'am.

ghouls implying its normal and fine to say "kill yourself" to people and implying youd send this shit to a minor? or that youd have to be a teenager to even get upset at someone telling other people to kill themselves? how do people on tumblr still think you were banned for nothing

[thedissociatives]

also if you guys think i take issue with a lot of aspects of hockey culture you aren't prepared for how much i hate a lot of football culture

[anewp0tat0]

Theo's wild hair seems to be clearly styled after the twins'- which one though? I'm gonna say R!ciel because the middle bang mostly is swayed to the left, (one could still argue it's meant to be in the middle but I'm chosing the believe this cause it helps me). all in all, it seems that Theo is R!ciel's replacement, whether that be in soul or blood or what have you...

[hotdogshipping-miwa-enthusiast]

Watching the caped crusader,

Without spoilers it is a 10/10 however (spoilers)

I feel for Alfred and Montoya

Montoya constantly get herself shut down by people like bullock and flask and after all the suffering she goes through at her job, she gets a girlfriend who seems to love and cherish her…

but it’s fucking Harley Quinn

This girl just can’t catch a break

And Alfred oh dear God Alfred

I kind of hate his dynamic with Bruce right now. I’m not that far into the series, but there seems to be less reciprocated affection from Bruce, especially with the whole standing outside his door and saying “you’re going to help me.”

This bruce definitely feels more cynical than other interpretations (more of his trauma peaks through as with the flash backs) so the change dynamic kind of makes sense. It’s not a bad one just getting used to if you’re a fan of older series like me.

Still everything works well and it really is a fun time. Like maws its a fun new take on both Heroes and Villains (even gives the spotlight to people animated fans may not have seen before).

[arolesbianism]

Eternal gales isat au except Bloom is the one looping and she never fucking escapes due to the curse of being 9 years old. Oh and also the middle aged woman actively sabotaging her at every step of the way ig

[marsbotz]

testing out my new screen tablet #SWAG

[the-kipsabian]

if something tho, i have gotten better about writing just to share with one person and just enjoying creating that way so. thats very nice

[colorstormx]

if you're wondering how my inktober has been going....well, maybe don't