#the muse responds

[cloistergardens]

Mentopolis really is gonna be Hank shooting his shot as best a married man can with another (straight) married man

FOR REAL it’s gonna be so good I can’t wait

[moonlight-prose]

I just wanna sit in Logan’s lap and admire his claws and watch him blush 😩

okay but picture this with worst!logan: the concept of body worship is not lost on a one logan howlett. he is the man who will lick and bite and tease each patch of skin to prove his love can emanate beyond mere words. he is the man who will caress the small of your back in public but sink his teeth into the stretch marks across your hips in private. body worship to him is an every time you are together deal. it's a way of life for him.

until that fateful night. you find yourself perched in his lap on the couch, wade is gone, althea has bingo, and the apartment is yours. alone as a movie aimlessly drones on in the background. your kissing him and it's messy and logan can feel his body scream to pin you down against cushions he slept on mere hours ago.

the taste of you is heady on his tongue. a direct shot of adrenaline that kept made him long to pound into you until the legs on the shitty piece of furniture broke. until your screams were heard by the annoying neighbors next door. he's aching and desperate and you're not making his internal war any easier.

his claws are out long before you start grinding against his lap - your fingers tugging at his hair, mouth moving along his throat. he fights to reign them in. the terror of harming you clawing at his chest. but then you pull back. you reach for his hand with a sparkle in your eye, and press a kiss to the cold metal.

your tongue slides along the dull edge, hips shifting to sit directly on his already pulsing cock, and logan feels his sanity snap. the moment you suck on the tip with a soft mewl he cums loud. he's harsh when his hips jolt up into yours - his hand ripping free from your grip to plunge silver into leather. a way for him to steady his movements as he practically humps you.

it's a type of body worship he's never experienced before. admiration for what's made him so cruel - love for the one part of him he loathes. he goes to scold you. explain how fucking wrong that could have gone. but stops dead at the sight of your smile, eyes glazed and chest heaving.

he knows his face is red; crimson bleeding down onto the skin of his chest. he knows he's never blushed this hard before. and yet when you press a kiss to his cheek, softly murmuring how much you wanted to do that again, how he looked beautiful cumming in his jeans, he feels the weight on his chest begin to lift.

[spineless-lobster]

I think my favourite headcanon that I have is that zag loves I’m gonna claw out your eyes (and drown you to death) and mel loves hymn to zagreus, and sometimes they annoy each other by trying to sing their respective songs louder than the other

[littlewrensx]

starter for @ofmymanymuses from Olivia.

"Oh..." She thought everyone would be asleep by now. Pulling the oversized shirt down so it wasn't totally obvious she was just in her panties. "Um, sorry. I didn't realize anyone was up. I was just wanting some water." Blushing, she made her way to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Can't sleep?"

[epiphainie]

i used to be on the buck wouldn't have a specific kind of fear/anxiety over his significant other being in a dangerous line of work train (a la ali was with him) because all his loved ones are in the same line of work and he's seen the absolute worst happen to them already but i think one thing that would really get to buck about tommy in particular would be the fact that he's not there when that thing happens. because so much of buck's worries manifest as guilt over him not being able to save/protect the people he loves and that baseline fear of the 118 getting hurt will always be there but i think it's alleviated a little bit by the fact that buck is there to watch their backs anytime they clock in, so he's not entirely powerless when the next bad accident occurs. but with tommy he's entirely helpless and that is something new. the closest thing to compare is maddie but maddie's work is not (nominally, relatively) dangerous

[dunmeshistash]

I wish kobolds and their culture were referenced more in the manga.... I find so little about it. Thank you for sharing the info and your musings!!

Thanks! Me too... I could never have Ryoko Kui's self control to keep the story focused lmao Kobold's live in another continent so it does make sense that there isn't much about them, also since Kabru said they don't seem to have much contact with other races, which makes sense since they're apparently kidnapped and sold as slaves.

[blackarrcw]

╰┈► 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑙! 𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑖-𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚: 𝑇𝑜𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑒𝑛 (𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒), 𝐵𝐵𝐶 𝑅𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑛 𝐻𝑜𝑜𝑑, 𝐻𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙, 𝑀𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑛, 𝑒𝑡𝑐; 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑠 𝐴𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑛, 𝐿𝑒𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑠, 𝐽𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒! 𝐶𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑦, 𝐶𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑂𝐶 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑦; 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒. 𝑀𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑖-𝑙𝑖 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑖 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒, 21 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑚𝑢𝑛/𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑠 — 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝑆𝑒𝑒𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠! 𝑁𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑎/𝑥𝑘𝑖𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑑.

𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃: Jaidyn 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 | 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄: Faramir; Prince of ithilien ( testing. )

[mothwingwritings]

I remember this post question on someone's blog and managed to save the post before I lost the blog, and want to share it with you. hoho!

"I don't know if you've watched JOJO, but there are characters in there, pillarmen, and the digestive acid secreted by their bodies has a psychoactive toxin and those people whose bodies have been invaded by pillarmen (Santana infiltrated a soldier in a lab) describe the sensations as "wonderful".

And I want to offer a strange thought slightly inspired by the Pillarmen to tie in with Jack.

Imagine that after sitting on pills and drugs for so many years, Jack's blood could become "toxic" in some way? Jack's secretions(saliva/blood(semen??) etc) could themselves become a drug to the reader. He kisses her, the reader gets saliva and drug enzymes, which relaxes her a lot and later gives her a euphoric state.

Either way yandere Jack has the reader hooked on his own drug and she is incapable of escape"

Anon the mere thought of what you are commenting is doing things to me I can't quite articulate but to suffice to say, I love it. Jack Hanma cover me in fluids, please, I promise I won't be weird about it. :)

(Sexy stuff below so 18+ please)

Just like... reader drugged out of their mind off of him, love sick eyes staring longingly up at him while his sweat and cum cover you, your tongue lulled out of your mouth waiting for the next hit. Your breathing is erratic, your body shaking with anticipation as you whine and squirm, pleading with your eyes to give you release.

He smirks down at you, gripping your chin in a tight pinch. "Want more, baby?" he coos in a deep voice, basking in your complete addiction of him.

You nod eagerly, or at least as much as his hold will allow. This makes him smile as he gathers saliva in his mouth, spitting it in a fat, warm trail on to your awaiting tongue.

"There you go," he says, wiping the remaining spittle from his lips with the back of his hand, "Just a taste before the next course. We can't overdo it now, not when there is so much more in store for the rest of the night."

[keischreiber]

Thinking about how Reiner's decision-making as a leader is influenced by a need to a) fulfill a mission; and b) for the sake of someone else.

So when it comes to making decisions that are solely from himself he's lost and unsure of what to do, because his mind spirals back to how those decisions will affect the people around him.

You tell him that it's fine to be scared; but he needs to take the first step of truly deciding things for himself.

He understand you, but it doesn't make it easier.

"You can hold my hand until you feel it's safe enough to let go. And even if you do, I'll be behind you to push you up when you feel like you'll fall back."

That's what you promise him.

He is overwhelmed with emotion; never having felt this kind of support. It was different from they type of support he received. Different from his mother's who had expectations for him beyond himself, different from the military who had expectations for him to be the perfect warrior, different from Zeke who had expectations for him to remember that his failure was the reason everything happened in the first place, different from his friends whose expectations of him were slowly being rebuilt after the shared experiences of both loss and gain, different from the kids whose expectations were for him to be the role model that could be followed...

You didn't have any other expectations of him other than for him to be himself.

And that was what scared him. What if who he was, who he REALLY was, was something irredeemable... with damage too broken and shattered to be fixed. Once he puts down his mask of being a soldier... of being a warrior... of being the Armor... what the hell was he left with other than the child who he had chosen to cast away for the sake of what his mission needed?

"I... can you—"

He was struggling to say what he wanted. Not knowing where to start and fearing how it would end.

"I want you to stay by my side." He blurted it out. Selfishly. Greedily. As firm as he can be, letting his heart and every fiber of his being bleed out the last remnants of courage that he could muster.

His expression's filled with guilt and apprehension. What was he going to put you through? He knew it won't be easy being with him. But he wanted you there.

It was his first big decisions that he made solely for himself.

And that decision was to have you in his life.

[apollos-boyfriend]

TRICK OR TREAT:D

treat!!!

[cloistergardens]

I would love to hear about Fourtress! Something about the wordplay capivates me.

aaaah thank you!!! I LOVE to talk abt fourtress; they’re my faves and I love them so much!!!!!!!!

the main group is a criminal gang of four lesbians that are all also in love w each other. the plot of the movie I’m writing abt them is a series of heists they do to take down their main rival gang, so there’s grand theft auto, infiltration, lockpicking, kidnapping and rescuing, all that good stuff. 😏 at the start of the movie two of them are already married to each other and by the end the other two are explicitly in a relationship, but there is sooooo much flirting between all of them along the way. they’re so much fun to write, thank you for asking abt them!!!!!

[moonlight-prose]

since you kindly offered this brilliant piece I have a thot for you. giving logan nasty nasty head as he’s trying to eat dinner 🤭

note: i sat with this for several hours after we hung up and i could not get it out of my head. he's a munch. we know this. it's a fact (disney grow some balls and say it outloud). but my god is he a whore for some good head. give him sloppy toppy and he's wrapped around your finger; he's yours, ready to put a ring on it and drag you to the courthouse himself.

Dinner is a quiet affair in the Howlett household. It's mixed with soft conversation and intimate jokes. Comments about your days, hands held over the table as candle wax dripped over the yellowed cloth. It's warm - domestic.

But on nights when adrenaline ran a bit too high and wine began to drip heat down your spine, you found that you couldn't resist the pull of him.

He sat in his usual chair, legs spread and eyes tracking your movements as you left the kitchen. A bottle of wine in one hand, his whiskey in the other.

His grin is soft. A docile man who'd been tamed by the lover he never expected. And you can feel the heat begin to curl around your stomach. Tugging on the nerves that thrummed beneath your skin. He'd never realize how far gone you were for him; how every move and choice depended on whether or not he'd smile your way.

"Smells good sweetheart." His voice is low, the grit of husk behind each lilted drawl.

You could feel warmth flicker to life beneath the supple skin of your cheeks as his gaze continued to track how you sat in your chair. Eyes dragging down the figure clad a t-shirt that had seen better days and jeans with a gaping hole in the knee.

There was no denying you dressed for comfort. Logan still felt his cock stiffen at the sight of you in dark washed denim though.

The smile is pulled from the depths of your chest. "I couldn't decide what to make."

You know you sound flustered. You know your voice is higher than normal.

You know he caught it by the sharp glint of his teeth poking through an already crooked smile.

"I'll eat anythin' you make," he admits with a soft clack of his fork tapping his plate.

The double meaning isn't lost on you. In fact it shoots a hole right through your chest, floods your body with that syrupy thick heat that you feel drip down to the tips of your fingers. His nostrils flare - eyes glancing down to the table that covers your lap - before he's filling his mouth with food.

Honestly you can't even recall how it happened. The entire ordeal a hazy cloud of lust that had you slipping out of your seat, and dropping to your knees beneath the table. His eyes went wide as your hands pushed at his legs, forcing them to spread. And when he made no move to stop you, the rest clicked into place with ease.

Logan smells of his cigar he smoked after work. He smells of spice and the musk of sweat and leather from his jackets that hung in the hall closet.

He is everything you could possibly want in a husband. Everything you asked for checked off with a flourished hand and a welcomed smile.

"Baby what-" He chokes on his food when your hands undo his belt, the button of his jeans, and pull him free with a choked whine. "Oh fuck."

That. That's what you were looking for after a day filled with his absence. The stifled moan at the back of his throat when your tongue licked up his cock - whining when the taste of him burst across your taste buds. You couldn't deny yourself him when he let you suck on the head, spit trailing down your chin and into his lap.

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, fingers tightening around his fork, and it isn't until you've got him halfway down your throat does he understand what you want.

The clink of metal scratching porcelain sends heat down your spine. He moans around a mouthful of food as your head bobs, mouth sucking him in deeper, further, until he hits the back of your throat and makes you gag.

"You're fuckin' filthy for me aren't ya," he mutters, thumb rubbing into your skin. "Makin' me eat while you get dinner of your own."

Your eyes roll back, pussy clenching down hard around nothing. Because fuck he's right. You'd stay on your knees until pain flared up. You'd keep him down your throat until you lost the ability to speak.

You'd suck him dry morning, noon, and night to hear the noises that slipped past his lips.

"'M gonna give you want ya want baby," he grunts.

His hips rock up off the chair, hand pushing your head down further until your nose was buried in the dark hair tinged with the musky scent of him. It's wet and messy and spit has formed into globs that roll down the expanse of your throat.

You're so far gone all you can do is give a choked moan, body trembling as your lungs screamed for air.

That's the fucked up part though. You'd die on his cock if it meant getting to please him.

He cums with a harsh snap of your name, chest heaving and plate long forgotten. Shudders roll down your spine, slick pooling between your thighs as he spurts down your throat. Spilling out the sides of your mouth.

"Eat your dinner sweetheart so I can have some fuckin' desert."

[sanguineserrations]

[newwayin]

location: redstone bar. drinking all by urself, handsome? pathetic. time: 10 : 04pm, at least ... that's the time he last checked on his phone

it's halloween and it's almost over. what a bummer. his mother had suggested he go to the party that happens at the warehouse but he decided against it. party scenes aren't really his thing and large crowds of inebriated people doesn't appease him. so, what does he do? sit alone at a bar and drink. ironic. there's some holiday spirit, half dressing as chucky from child's play. he's not completely impaired though, letting the light buzz warm from his toes to the lips of his fingers. visitors have come to try and keep him company but all he does is stare until they're uncomfortable enough to leave. well, it comes to the present now when he feels someone sit right next to him, and he graces them with a curious glance, brows furrowed. " what do you want? "

[heartsbreaking]

— open starter

muse : jack harding ( 20+, law student/occasional storm chaser) verse: main gc

normally, she had no commute. she'd been around the campus all her life. this year, she was moving into her own apartment a short distance from school, something that had been hotly debated at home. moving into the dorms was one thing, whether she needed a whole place of her own when her childhood bedroom was another entirely. still, she'd gotten her way. now, she was just in the process of hauling some cool decorations she'd gotten from the antique store in the next town over.

everything was going well until it wasn't. she blew a tire on her dad's truck. she heard the pop and groaned as the truck lilted. she drove over to the shoulder on the stretch of highway and leaned her head on the top of her steering wheel. she groaned, frustrated already until she looked up through the windshield and saw the gathering clouds. of course it had to storm the same day she blew a tire. she looked up at the clouds again and then reached for her phone sitting in the cup holder.

"hey, i got a 911, tire's blown and- yes i see the sky, i know it doesn't look good. i'm on route 69, just dropped my pin. will you please come bring a spare tire or come get me."

[finelythreadedsky]

Lisa Peterson and Denis O'Hare, An Iliad