#they do things to my head man

[ratatatastic]

has it been more than a month since whatever happened at e11even happened? yeah. does that mean im over whatever the fuck lundy and sasha were up to that night? absolutely the fuck not what the fuck was that

WHAT THE FUCK WAS ANY OF THAT???

[xxplastic-cubexx]

you open my Super Important Documents and its just pictures of charles xavier

[art-is-kayos]

Checking up on his commission

[tabooiart]

this hot pink bitch was named breakfast!!!

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

jin guangshan and lan qiren yaoi perhaps? since their shapes create a perfect balance?

Two old men perform worlds first successful 96.

[b4kuch1n]

polymer broadcast signal hijack

[a-s-levynn]

Your reflection, your bitter deception / Setting you free A Series of Small Offerings - IV/6 - day38

[cry-ptidd]

I can't see Vlad and Alucard as the same people Ik they are but like. Not the same vibes

[ouidamforeman]

Favorite (derogatory) thing abt the Dr who fandom is that whenever anything gay happens in the show everyone freaks out like it’s the first time Dr who has ever Been Queer like this hasn’t been happening since before 2005

[jerswayman]

LOVE THY GOALIE. GIVE THY GOOD BOY HEAD PATS.

[ghost-proofbaby]

It's summer for you, winter for me. Warm me up with strawberry fluff! As always, my muse, your muse, the one and only, Eddie.

Midsummer's night, because I don't have a lot to inspire you with. I'm thinking something cute but weird? Maybe some human body softness where Eddie is a bit of a freak and we love him for it. And we're told our bodies are lovely, even when they're doing weird shit.

I lalalove youuuuu. xo Rhi

RHI!!!! <3 i adore you. thank you for this prompt - i had far too many ideas for it, but ended up on settling for this one, which coincidentally feels like the most subtle of them all? either way, it definitely turned out being the softest. give me an eddie munson who just wants to sniff me like a dog. this definitely got a bit long but i hope you enjoy, my dear <3

the smell of you

warnings: weirdos in love? idk. i have a skewed sense of what is actually weird i think. mentions of death and coffins jokingly. eddie 'manhandles' reader sort of. not edited.

wc: 2.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“Eddie?”

The entire apartment is quiet – too quiet – as you drop your keys into the old crystal bowl on the counter. The clink resonates through the air, louder than the soft murmur of the stereo static you can hear from down the hall. 

“You dead?” you call out again, slipping off your running shoes and tossing down your headphones onto the counter as well now, “Do I need to call the coroner?” 

Your tone is lilted, teasing with airiness as you continue to wander deeper into the apartment and head straight for the room you know Eddie has to be in. Like the waves pulled by the moon, there’s an incessant string tied around one end of your soul that connects you to his, and you follow it all the way down the hallway. The bedroom door is wide open, and you can hear his mumbled yell of a response without clarity before you even cross the threshold. 

You wouldn’t have even needed him to verbally respond to find him in this tiny apartment. You two could get separated on the streets of a bustling city, of a buzzing New York sidewalk, and you still wouldn’t properly lose him. It’s more than just soul ties and his gravity that keeps you pulled to him. 

Something unspoken. Something homely. 

“Sorry, what was that?” you hum as you spy him face-down in the bed, pillow muting him by the mouthful, “Say it one more time, and this time not into the pillow.” 

When he finally properly turns over, he’s a vision. Sleep lines folded into his skin and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, eyes squinting in irritation not at you but the sunlight flooding in through the bedroom window. Messy hair, messy shirt, messy everything. A kind of mess you just want to collapse into currently, curling up in all that he is from the day’s exhaustion. 

He’d mentioned wanting to take a nap before you’d left for the gym. Something about the summer heat draining him, trailing off as he’d rambled about how he’d probably thrive as a vampire. 

“I said,” he huffs, sitting up, the frizz of his hair becoming a makeshift halo, “If you call the coroner, request the comfiest coffin possible.”

“Why do you need a comfy coffin if you’re already dead?” 

“You dare deny me of being buried in tempurpedic memory foam? In my hour of need?” 

You roll your eyes as you huff out a little laugh, forcing yourself to turn away from him long enough to strip out of your socks. But just as you reach down for the pieces of clothing, you catch sight of the source of that stereo static flooding the room. 

Your shared record player, spinning a blood red pressing of one of your more recent vinyl purchases. The album has been played through, but the player no longer had an automatic stop mechanism, probably from years of use. 

The center of the record is probably scratched, and Eddie knows it, from how sheepish he looks when you glance over your shoulder at him. 

“Speaking of death,” you walk over quickly, purposefully, before carefully lifting the needle and cutting the static finally, “Care to explain why you’re burning scratches into my Momento Mori vinyl?” 

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he scooches quickly to the end, clearly fully awake now, “I put it on and thought I’d just lay down for a quick second, but then the bed was so comfy, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, and then…” he trails off, looking up at you through his lashes with big eyes already pleading for forgiveness, “I’ll buy you a new one. Swear it.” 

It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking like this, inhumanely soft and easily forgiven, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you really would be dead.” 

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead the outstretch of his hands, fingers flexing as he beckons to you. The needle rests on its perch, the vinyl left behind to gather dust for a few extra moments, as you go straight to him. 

When his palms slip beneath your old t-shirt and meet your skin, they’re pleasantly warm. 

“You were right,” you admit as his knees spread, delegating even more room for you to stand in front of him as your hand wanders to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in sweaty curls from his rest. Your thumb mimics his on your own skin instinctively, tracing a large arch right up over his cheekbone, “It’s hot as balls outside.” 

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smiling softly in satisfaction as he leans lazily into your touch. 

“You did,” you agree quietly, half-entranced by his relaxed face, no sight of pride in the room currently. 

He resembles a cat as he continues to preen under your gentle hand, and you almost expect him to start purring right before you find the strength to pull away, removing his hands from where they'd wandered to your lower back. 

One swipe of his finger along your sweaty spine, and you’d remembered what your original intentions had been immediately upon getting home. 

“Wai- Where are you going?” he’s seemingly brought back down to Earth the moment he loses the pattern your thumb had been tracing, the press of your fingertips into his scalp. When he reaches back out to latch onto you again, you take a step back, “Get back here-”

“I need to shower,” you laugh, shaking your head and smacking his hands away as he continues to barter, “I’m all sweaty and smelly, let me go clean up and then we can nap togeth-” 

“You can shower after we nap,” he nearly whines, finally catching your shirt between his fingers and tugging, uncaring for if he stretches the fabric. A small price to pay to have you close to him, “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re just as exhausted as I am.” 

You swear you meant to take another step backwards, but somehow, you end up back between his knees, “Did you not hear me, Munson? I stink.”

“Good.” 

He doesn’t give you any time to react – in an instant, he’s throwing his face forward, burying it against your stomach as you let out a gasp and immediately try to pry him away with far too gentle of hands in his hair. 

“Eddie!”

If it were anyone else, you’d probably be mortified. But Eddie just takes a dramatic deep breath in, nose buried just shy of your belly button, and when his shoulders start to shake with muted laughter, you can’t stop the smile from breaking. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair, still pulling back in an attempt to get him away from you, but he’s resilient. 

And all your faux resistance is weak in comparison. Soon enough, you’re back to melting into him. 

Only once you’re relaxed once more, no sign of trying to pull away again any time soon as his hands once more evade the space beneath your shirt to wander up and down your sticky skin without a care in the world, does he lift his face away from you long enough to breathe and speak, “I’ll have you know – I love your stink.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I’m your idiot.” 

The game of banter is cut short when he goes back to pressing his nose into your clothes that surely can’t smell good. No amount of deodorant or perfume could erase that underlying stench of sweat. Hell, the shirt is still a bit moist from it all: from the walk to the gym, from your workout itself, from the walk home. It’d been through the ringer, and you’re back to tugging him away from you. 

“I refuse to believe you like how gross I smell right now,” you reinforce, eyes darting towards the bathroom connected to your master bedroom, “I promise I’ll be quick with the shower.” 

“Baby,” he fights back, wrapping his arms around you securely, no intention of losing this battle, “You remember that time we went to the fair, and you were complaining about how you were sweating, so I tried to lick your face?” 

Your nose scrunches quickly at the memory, “I do, unfortunately.”

“You really think I’d be willing to lick the sweat off your body but be afraid of you smelling a little bad while we cuddle?” his shoulders drop as he looks up at you, head tilted, almost as if amused with the conversation, “What kind of man do you take me for?” 

“The kind that gets off on annoying me.” 

His jaw drops, putting on a fake look of offense before he dramatically throws himself back onto the bed, laying flat as he makes a fist to mimic stabbing his chest, “You wound me.”

You’ve heard those words a thousand times in a hundred different ridiculous voices. You’ve seen this scene enough to have it mesmerized at this point, down to the over-exaggerated pout of his lips and the lingering of the fist against his sternum. 

You never grow tired of it. You never will. 

“Need me to kiss it better?” you joke as you prop a knee up on the bed, following the same script as always. 

And he hits his queue perfectly when he lifts his head eagerly at the expected response, wiggling his brows a bit. “Absolutely. Doctor’s orders, in fact.” 

“Great,” you see an opportunity, and take it, “I’ll get right to it, after my showe-” 

You don’t even get the final syllable of the word off your tongue before he’s clenching his thighs around your own, knees pressing hard before he wraps his legs the rest of the way around your waist to pull you in. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as you begin to fall forward, but Eddie is quick to break the fall with ease. Catching you with his eager hands, maneuvering for you to half drop to the mattress while some of you still lands atop of him. 

He has you right where he wants you, turning his head to be face to face with you, noses nearly brushing, “Unfortunately, the doc said you have to kiss it better now, or else you’ll be comfy coffin shopping.” 

“A fatal wound?” you gasp, nearly mocking him. It doesn’t offend him – if anything, his boyish grin only grows wider, “First, I’m smelly-”

“Again, I like when you’re smelly.”

“-And then I inflict a fatal wound upon my lover? Oh, how dare I.”

Slowly, all your insecurity of how you currently smell is simply fading. The entire ordeal has become an art of childlike, whimsical jokes – and Eddie is an artist. A professional at the dance, locked and loaded with his incomparable skill set equipped for disarming you this way. The ability to make someone feel loved, imperfections and weirdness aside. 

He likes you, even when you claim you don’t smell your best. And you like him, even when his hair is tangled beyond recognition and one of his socks is half-hanging off his foot from a nap.

You like him when he’s embarrassing you in public, tongue chasing after you with the threat of licking your sweat away, and he likes you when all you can do in response is a weak palm to his chest (that isn’t even making an effort to push him away) as you giggle relentlessly. 

You like each other on the good days, the bad days, the weird days. 

Disarmed entirely, you don’t even notice when his face conveniently slots itself far too close to your armpit as you two scooch further up into the bed. You’re more occupied with the way your legs tangle up, toeing each other’s socks off properly as he slings a heavy arm across your torso. 

“We’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” you mumble, exhaustion catching up as the two of you finally settle. 

He hums absentmindedly, nuzzling into your skin a bit further as he makes himself comfortable. “And wash away your sweet, sweet stink? I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, unbothered as your fingers start to trail up and down his back over the t-shirt, smoothing out wrinkles along the way, “I’m serious. We need to change them soon anyways, I think I got crumbs in the bed the other night with those crackers.” 

“Bury me in the crumbs of all your midnight snacks,” he almost slurs, clearly drifting back off. 

You snort in response, relaxing and letting your own eyes shut. Matching all your deep breaths with his own, a million different last words crossing your mind to whisper to the boy you’re sure is once again asleep. 

I love you.

I adore you. 

I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. 

And maybe some of those unspoken thoughts slip out without you realizing, because he squeezes you just a little bit tighter, presses his face just a little bit deeper into your skin as his scruff tickles you. 

The only actual thought you can know for certain that you say, though, is, “Do you think they actually make coffins with memory foam inside?” 

To your surprise, even despite the almost-snores that had been escaping him, he answers in a heartbeat. 

“Oh, definitely. We’ll order two.”

[hyukqi]

k.t.h. 🩵

drabble of… needy days with taehyun <3

smut, taehyun x reader, fem!reader, subby!mc >_<, meanie dom!taehyun, humiliation, spanking, name-calling, dirty talk

(been ia for a month whoopsies !! rmb when i said i daydreamed about taehyun to get through a power outage ?? ya this is it LMAO enjoy !!!)

──────────────────────

“oh g-god… tae please~~”

"what do you need, pretty girl?" taehyun asks, slowly pulling your panties down. "need my cock in your little cunt?" his fingers slide across your soaked pussy, running against your clit. "need me to fuck you hard and deep?"

nodding with wet tears dripping down your cheeks “p-please.. i..i can’t i need it now!” traces of ruined mascara and lip gloss are smudged across your face, in contrast to his well-maintained look.

"shit, you are so fucking sexy." taehyun groans, his hands rubbing your inner thighs teasingly. “pretty pussy" he murmurs, eyes fixated on your glistening sex, his hand moving to unbuckle his belt. "you want me to fill your tight little cunt up with my seed?" his cock eventually springs free, thick and hard, rubbing against your slick folds. the sight of it makes your mouth water immediately.

after guiding you to lie on your stomach, ass hiked up, taehyun pushes in slowly, feeling your walls stretch around him. he drills his hips deep inside of you until he feels like he’s a part of you, making you his <3

“nghhh—ah!” you can feel your eyes already rolling to the back of your head just from the insertion alone.

he breathes heavily, “there you go, slut… feel me stretching you? see how good it feels having my cock inside your hole? gonna fuck you dumb, mm?” fuck, does he fill you up so good… @_@

lifting his hips, taehyun pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, shoving his cock into your sensitive walls. with a sharp thrust and a wail reaching his ears he grunts out, “you love being fucked like this, don‘t you? god your greedy cunt is so tight.. fuckin’ sucking me in.”

you can only gasp for air between moans, completely consumed by the sensation of being filled by him. “o-oh~! hhah… tyun!!” you find yourself lost in the pleasure from his cock ruining your warm, wet cunt. pretty pussy’s leaking juices onto the bedsheets.. so stupidly eager, aren’t you?

noticing this, taehyun evilly smirks and picks up his pace even further, reaching for your clit with a swipe of his thumb, making you cry out in pleasure as he pumps into you. "you're so fucking wet," he growls, his voice low and rough. "i can feel you dripping all over me. missed me that much?”

“yes..y-yes!! missed you so much tyun! missed your co—mmphh!!!” at this point you were babbling incoherently into the sheets, rendered to nothing but a fucked-out mess.

“thaaat's it, baby. gonna make sure you can’t think about anything but me," taehyun moans, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounded into you harder. his other hand found its way around your body, squeezing your breast roughly.

the sensation was too much for the both of you. your soaking velvety walls dragged across his girth perfectly with each thrust to your gummy spot. you swear birds were circling around your head from just how good taehyun aggressively turned you into his personal cocksleeve.

whining as your head lolls against the mattress, big eyes swelling up with tears that stream down your pretty face. knuckles turning white from how hard you’re gripping the sheets in attempt to stabilize your position, grinding your hips in coordination with taehyun’s thrusts. you hear him hiss from behind as you’re swirling your abused pussy around him.

taehyun’s marveling at the sight before him. he’s got you all spread out completely at his mercy, biting his lip to hold back a moan from watching your pussy engulf him whole. he could tell you’re close by the way you’re creaming on his cock sticky with your juices and clenching repeatedly. a filthy smirk forms on his face as he basks in the sounds of your loud whimpers and cries echoing throughout the room. nasty moans are getting so embarassingly high-pitched. “so fucking noisy… could you be any more louder?” taehyun taunts, his voice deep and harsh.

with cheeks flushing in humiliation and eyes blinking back hot tears, your forehead tilts down. you quickly scramble to shut yourself up by efforts of muffling your moans into your arm and shoving your fingers in your tiny mouth. both attempts were futile as small weak hiccups slipped its way out, and frankly you just sounded more pathetic as ever!

“are you that stupid? did i say to be quiet?”

your body flinches, ears twitching in surprise.

taehyun suddenly grabs a fistful of your hair harshly yanking you up till your back is flushed against his chest and a strained moan creeps up his ears. he leans in closer to whisper, his dick plunged deep into your cervix, “let me hear you, pretty.”

and with that taehyun lets go of your hair, your limp body falling forward, warm walls still fluttering around him, and head n mind oh so fuzzy. almost immediately does he give you a spank to your ass, an imprint of a gorgeous crimson color plastered on your skin.

taehyun’s gaze that was raking down your spine was interrupted by the throw of his head back, a soft hiss at the feeling of a tight clench gripping around the sides of his cock. the intensity of his slap has got you shuddering and spasming, crying out in ecstasy, and toes curling in.

momentarily, taehyun just stares at you almost in a mix of disbelief and amusement, meanly laughing at your pathetic release. “did you just cum from that? hah… maybe i should spank you more often, hm?”

and his pace picks back up, hips fucking you into oblivion, relishing in your screams and legs trembling of overstimulation…

“fucking take it all like a good girl.”

[bicheetopuff]

Oh nothing, just thinking about the fact that Katsuki smiles the widest in battle when he feels like he’s competing/catching up with Izuku but stops smiling when Izuku’s in danger/is forced to think rationally, outside of the fantasy that everything Izuku does is to compete with him as well. Thinking about the fact that he has genuine fun and performs his best while thinking about surpassing Izuku, in the essay I’ll-

[theminecraftbee]

okay, so in a rare moment for me, there's a discourse thing i want to bring up, and that thing is. okay. so on iskall's stream there's this thing that can happen where someone brings up a criticism of his content or vault hunters. frequently it's self-evidently wrong, but sometimes it's not. and then iskall spends the next thirty minutes shadowboxing this guy, explaining himself, and completely derailed. and this is an iskall trait we all know and sigh bemusedly about, because he cares about the community and wants people to understand his intentions! he wants the community to understand his decisions!

however, it's not the community as a whole he's fighting; he is in fact, arguing with One Guy, who often doesn't represent the wider community, and who normally won't have their mind changed. hell, sometimes it's believable that they're satisfied having just managed to upset iskall, and they'll leave, no change to their mind, perfectly pleased that iskall's responding at all (that's what i firmly believe the people who poke at the 'you don't upload enough and that means you're falling off and a bad person' wound are trying to do, at least).

in the vault hunters community, we refer to this as iskall getting One Guyed, and it's typically viewed as bad, because it ends up focusing an entire moment on a single guy's negative opinion as opposed to on the larger picture. and it's an understandable thing to have happen! but it's frustrating to watch from the outside.

and so now i am looking at that cat poll. and the way everyone is still shadowboxing someone who has since apologized. and the way i would have never ever known about any of the negative comments about jellie if it weren't for fellow mcyt fans constantly putting them on my dash to dunk on them. and it's like. if you look through the notes most of them are just... normal? it's only a tiny few of people (and the pollrunner, who has since apologized) who were being dicks. it's a very, very ignorable demographic.

but. well. there was One Guy. and we had to correct them.

and folks, i don't know how to say that i almost never see "lol mcyt is cringe" type comments unless one of you puts it on my dash. both because i don't go looking through the notes of things that are likely to have them or go looking for reasons to be upset and because it's just... not that common! very frequently these days it is, in fact, One Guy!

i have almost never seen that poll on my dash without at least one instance of the One Guy. instead of being for fun, it's mostly become about explaining ourselves to someone who will not listen and will not change their minds, and treating this as a the whole of the Other Side of that poll, when most people are being... fine. they're fine! the majority of the people voting for the other side are doing it for perfectly normal reasons that don't require fighting about.

and man. let me tell you. after spending as long as i have watching vault hunters development? it can be just as frustrating to watch a fandom get One Guyed as it is to watch iskall.

[vaggieslefteye]

HUSK, Hotel Bartender & Concierge | 1x04 - Masquerade

"Oh, I FORGOT — you're the wise-old bartender who's seen it all! Get the fuck over yourself and pour me a real drink."