#then it kinda got away from me

[madameinfinitehearts]

CrocoDad Angst Drabble(?):

(For context, let's assume Whitebeard only gave Croc his facial scar.)

A newly-transitioned Crocodile is waiting for Dragon to return while sitting with their newborn child in his arms.

In that moment, he felt on top of the world. He mentally celebrated his new body and the birth of his son. Of course, he wanted to share that excitement with Dragon, someone who was close to him.

Everything seemed perfect. So how could he have foreseen what would happen next?

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised. After all, he was no longer the person he was before, especially when it came to his appearance. Without a warning beforehand, Monkey D. Dragon would never recognized him.

Suppose you came home to find an unfamiliar figure lurking in your home, holding your child. On top of that, your spouse is nowhere to be seen. You'd likely assume they were a threat. They did something to your beloved and bow they plan to go after the child you had together.

Naturally, you'd want to stop them... and that's exactly what Dragon tried to do.

The attacks took Crocodile by surprise, pushing him backwards. It hurts. Even if he understood why this was happening, that fact didn't change how painful it all was. Crocodile attempted to explain himself between blows but Dragon was having none of it.

During the assault, Croc unfortunately dropped the poor soul. Thankfully, the child hasn't fallen far but the incident left him crying intensely.

Though he had only been a parent for a few hours, Crocodile was quick to respond to his son's pained cries. He had to reach him - to comfort the helpless thing. That singular thought took the forefront of his mind as he reached his left hand out for the infant. Despite his own pain, he wanted to soothe his child's.

He was only inches away. So close that he could have touched him. But, of course, it was his mistake for forgetting the situation. Before he could even blink, Dragon had delivered a devastating blow... that separated his left forearm from his body. The dismembered part flopped into the floor, landing next to the crying child.

The shock of what occurred overwhelmed Crocodile. He hadn't even realized that he was screaming. He clutched the newly-made stump, attempting to stop the bleeding.

"Get out."

What?

"GET OUT!"

Why...?

"LEAVE THIS PLACE!"

There was no time for more questions. The injured Croc bolted from the room, making his way outside. The cries of his son fading away into the distance behind him.

Why did this happen? What had he done wrong? What should he do?! What would become of his child...? Where... would he go now...?

Well, he supposed that didn't matter at the moment. All he could do for now was run....

[orionis13]

This moment brought to you by ice feast

[xenasaur]

some of you have had your perception of mommy dommes warped by the popular advent of people simply using "mommy" as a title devoid of all context. I am not that kind of mommy domme. I am the kind that Acts Like Your Mom (or, how your mom should've acted). I am going to be so sugary-sweet and gentle and kind with you. I'm going to refer to all of your injuries as booboos and offer to kiss them better. I am going to make you little snacks and make sure you're hydrated. I am going to snuggle you so softly yet so tightly and kiss your forehead so gently and tell you that you make mommy proud every single day. that you are the best kid a gal like me could ask for. that I love you. I love you.

[sableeira]

And Dazai is like: omg how did he figure it out?!?!?!?

[reineydraws]

i regularly think about mishanks immediately post luffy becoming pirate king and this is one of the fluffier ideas haha

also kind of the spiritual successor to my very first mishanks post :'))

[yameoto]

any more thoughts on puppy art.. please. only if u want to though haha !! (please?)

ohh u guys love your darling little lapdog huh?

LAPDOG ART DONALDSON! fem!reader

▸ a drooler. nosing his head between your legs n he's already salivating. he's so cute like that. face smushed between your thighs, panting as spit pools in his mouth, nose twitching like a cute little bunny at the scent of your arousal. taking the trim of your panties between his teeth, dragging it down inch by inch. quivering because he just wants to rip them off but the last time he did that he tore your nice lacy lingerie and u didnt touch him for a week. when he eats you out he laps at your cunt like an eager puppy. comes away absolutely glistening. dripping, even. your juices n his saliva smearing his cheeks, his nose, dribbling down his chin.

▸ bigggg on humping. obviously. when you're too busy to give him attention he'll just shuffle over onto your lap and just start rubbing up against you. he's ridden out the best orgasms that way; creaming in his already-sodden boxers as slick gets all over ur thigh. he likes to do it when you're working or when you're on a call (you always punish him best that way). oftentimes you'll wake up at night to slick sheets—finding him grindin up against you, moaning and whimpering. a sleepy, boneless mess on your knee. he'll already have gotten himself off thrice before he tries to wakes you, just to be safe (you might take it away from him, after all). ▸ teething.... grown ass man teething... gnawing on your shoulder to stop himself from crying out when you let him fuck you.. nibbling your bottom lip red n raw when you kiss.. slobbering all over your mouth. during sex if you tease him he'll start to chew anxiously at the end of ur bra strap, the hem of your shorts, your panties if you keep him waiting too long. sometimes randomly takes your hand by the wrist and takes a fake chomp out of it (affectionate).

▸ not beyond jus being your lil stress relief toy. coming back home and he's been so good for you. he won his match. he's cooked dinner. but you don't have time for any of that. "oh, baby, don't give me that look. cock out, now." and he makes a little mewling noise and immediately his shorts are a crumpled puddle on the floor—raging boner popping out, all swollen n red n leaking bc hes been waiting for you for hours. ▸ sighing, telling him to sit and so he does. legs spreading wide on the couch, blinking up at u in earnest neediness. and when you sink onto his cock he makes this insane, visceral whining noise—back arcing off the seat. ▸ cockwarmer? more like cuntwarmer. you tell him don't move and don't cum. an impossible ask. he's pawing at your back, whimpering when your only response is to lean back heavier, sinking your full weight down on his poor, poor cock. n it feels soso good but he only lasts two minutes on a good day! let alone when you're switching the tv on and settling back into him like he's part of the couch. occasionally your hips jump, walls pulsing tight, choking his sensitive dick. you're grinding down into his lap and he's twitching inside of u and hot tears are prickling his eyes—fingers digging into your thighs, trembling.

▸ time ticking on.. the coil of heat in his gut winding tighter n tighter.. art's cheeks are flushed and hes wetting the back of your shirt with his silent tears. he persists, though, because he's good. he's gonna be a good boy for you. and it works! for a time, when you seem like you've almost forgotten your pussy is strangling his cock and you're only rolling your hips occasionally, sending warm thrums of pleasure through him. lulling him into a false sense of security.

▸ until all of a sudden you decide to be mean and for whatever reason you lift your hips before slamming them back down again, and his sharp gasp and slurred mewls perfectly cue the geyser that erupts from his slit.

▸ not even letting him cum inside you.. sliding off his spurting cock thats blowing cum like a volcano. hot, sticky strings arcing in the air and splattering all over the carpet, the couch cushions. his eyes glazing over, all glassy n sparkly as he crumples back in the couch, blubbering tearful apologies as his cock leaks like a faucet, staining the poor, new pillows.

▸ adores aftercare. or just your comfort in general. please rest your hand against his cheek and let him sigh and melt and nuzzle into the palm of your hand like you're taking the weight of the world off his shoulders. tug gently on his hair. scratch his scalp. let him curl up on your lap and pat him and coo sweet nothings in his ear. simple things, like "sweet baby, did so good today." or "tired puppy. took mommy so well."

▸ "fuck— m'sorry. m'sorry, m'sorry—" "hey, shh, darling. aw, don't cry. mommy's got you. how bout you curl up on momma's lap, kay?" "..mkay."

[lousysharkbutt]

norman reedus sitting like that dot jpeg

[sainz100]

2024 Brazilian GP | x

[arttsuka]

Bonus:

(Even tho Bill doesn't deserve the apology)

[a-most-beloved-fool]

Bashir falls asleep in front of Garak, and Garak, still strikingly unused to intimacy in any form, has... rather a lot of feelings about it. Sentiment. He knew already that he was far past the point of no return, as far as sentiment went, but it still surprises him, sometimes, to see just how much the contagion affects him.

In this case, it takes the form of paralysis. He sits there, heart in his throat, just watching Bashir, hardly able to move for fear of disturbing him, of waking him and breaking the illusion - or worse, waking himself, and discovering that it was all some wretched hallucination, yet another sign of his weakness, because surely it can't be real.

How could it? what do you mean this soft Starfleet doctor trusts him that much? Doesn't Bashir know he's a spy? He's killed people! More of them than he can count! And Bashir is snoozing away, seemingly unaware that he could be murdered. His head is tilted back against the couch, and that long, oh-so-fragile human throat is exposed, utterly defenseless - Garak wouldn't even have to try to slice through his neck. The skin would split as easy as a flower petal. He wouldn't even need a knife, though he certainly has one on him, with how thin human skin is! His claws or teeth would do the job just fine.

And Bashir doesn't even care! He's just... sitting there, sleeping. As though Garak is safe. Which surely he can't actually believe. It's simply beyond the realm of possibility.

Which means, certainly, that it isn't real. It can't be.

Still, Garak can't bring himself to stand. If it is only a dream, then it hardly hurts to indulge in it, just a little. To entertain the illusion that Doctor Bashir could feel secure with him, someday. So, he sits and he watches, tracing each motion of the Doctor's chest with his eyes, and he expects that at any moment he will wake up.

He doesn't, though. He stays seated, watching Bashir, and with every moment that passes it feels a little more real, and simultaneously a little more impossible.

Just under an hour later, when Bashir finally jolts awake, hair ruffled and gaze soft, Garak is still there, hardly moved an inch. Maybe Bashir notices that his position didn't change, maybe he doesn't, but either way, he smiles sheepishly at Garak, and apologizes for falling asleep on him.

Garak stands, feeling more in a dream then ever before, and assures Bashir that of course he needn't worry. It was no inconvenience. Then Bashir looks at the time, and apologizes again, this time for needing to leave so soon after waking up. He darts for the door, but not before reaching out and placing a hand on Garak's shoulder, beaming.

And Garak, now alone, can't help but stare after him, almost dizzy with emotions that he can't parse as his shoulder burns with the lingering imprint of Bashir's touch.

[senipsenipsenip]

Once the Pines family realizes Stan’s memory lapses are just going to be a thing after Weirdmageddon, they buy him a flip phone.

The lapses don’t happen often, only every couple of months, moreso if Stan’s been stressed, but the family wants a way Stan can reach them if he’s alone or not at home when it happens. After all, they don’t want to smother him, and Stan doesn’t want the kids to feel like they have to be his caretaker when they should be enjoying their summers.

The wallpaper is a family picture, Stan, Ford, and the kids. The pinned contact is CALL THIS NUMBER ASAP. It goes to Ford’s phone. It used to say Ford’s name as well, but they realized quickly that if Stan thought Ford was in the portal he wouldn’t bother calling. It used to say CALL FOR HELP, but had to be changed after a lapse where Stan thought he was back in Columbia, and really didn’t want to risk it in case it was a police number. Stan suggested the ASAP. That way if he thought he was still on the streets, he’d probably assume he left that note himself because it was a “business partner” that he better contact before they “contacted” him. Ford was still haunted by the day he answered the phone and, before he could state his name, heard Stanley babbling excuses and promises about money and cargo and look you can’t off me yet please just another week

He was also a little haunted by whatever it meant when Stan called and, with more venom than he’d ever heard in his brother’s voice before, said “You’re the llama guy, aren’t you?”

But usually when Ford answers the phone, Stanley is surprised it’s him. Sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s frantic, but Stan always listens when Ford asks him to stay where he is and wait for him to pick him up. Ford always feels a mix of emotions, realizing how hurt Stanley had been in the past yet how he would always want to see Ford again. How often he would arrive at the diner or the grocery store or, on a bad day, the lake where Stan sat confused and lost in his old fishing boat, and give his brother the greeting he should have when he came out of the portal, when Stan arrived on his doorstep thirty years ago. He wraps his arms around his brother and says it’s okay. I’m glad you called. You did the right thing. I’m here.

And together they find their way back home.

[mugwot]

someone

[pachnychnyszek]

neighbors unaffected by physics just stand there on the power lines. more at 5

[koolaidashley]

Post-krang Angst w/ disaster twins please🙏🙏🙏

If you insist!

[purpleminte]

Sparkly AND Soft™

[lieutenantbiscute]

Shell Shocked AU

“Mom and Dad aren’t that scary man!”

Heheh more Raph and Mona being The Couple ™ to me!! Marriage tattoos and ceremonial wedding knives and the art of gossiping over others—

Un-shadowed sketch