#they're obsessed with each other /silly

[ooooo-mcyt]

I think the thing I really love about Desert Duo is the warmth between them.

The way they banter and poke and prod at each other but always with an undercurrent of fondness. Scar teases about Grian's secret soulmate, Grian huffs that his heart is for someone special, Scar whispers with Pearl about ideas to mess with their soulmates, Grian mutters about leaving the desert all season. They both stay. They both giggle together and quickly drop any faux hurt.

The way they play each other. Scar coaxes Grian into doing work for him, Grian snatches a life away from Scar, Scar practically robs Grian blind through 'fair trade', Scar stabs Grian in the back in Thirdlife, Grian stabs Scar in the back in Limited Life. It's all in good fun. They sigh and roll their eyes and smile.

The way they gravitate towards each other. Easily partnering in Thirdlife, dancing around an alliance in both Last Life and Limited Life, being paired by the universe in Double Life, trying to reach for each other only to be torn apart by the universe in Secret Life. They meld easily together, like whispered plans and a presence beside each other is the most natural thing in the world.

The way they understand each other. "You and me, we know monopolies" Scar says, and Grian smiles. "Why DON'T you come along with me?" Grian giggles, and Scar can breathe for the first time all session.

Can you guys HEAR me I'm so NORMAL-

[cyellolemon]

The three of them ocs: Klaus, Myel and Stellan

[juneboat]

brainrotting about finn & fern right now. those two are so cute together i wish they were allowed to just . be brothers for longer

[asexualenjolras]

THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS

***

I cannot stop thinking about every single one of those silly little heroes; I'm obsessed with the fact that they saved the world by being themselves.

I remember everyone saying that they didn't see how the Thunderbolts* could beat the Sentry or the Void because they had no powers.

But, they didn't need powers. They didn't need to use their fists, or their super-strength, or combat training. All Yelena, Bucky, Walker, Ava, Alexei (and Bob) needed was their humanity. Their greatest power as a team is their flaws, and their life experiences. Their ability to empathise because of their mutual grief, loss and pain allowed them to save the world.

Their humanity is their power.

Every single member of the team has their own flaws, and they are all carrying around so much trauma and heartbreak, but they found each other. And they're going to help each other like the family that they are. And that's so beautiful. And, in finding and helping each other, they're going to save the world. They're all so human. They're so real. Their true strength was their ability to let themselves feel emotion.

And that's so powerful, that's such an important and beautiful message. This film was beautiful.

The Thunderbolts* are MY heroes.

[senseofnewness]

crushing!art donaldson because i need that boy to be desperate since childhood [nsfw]

• you guys have known each other since you were 7 or 8, growing up in the same circle, at first, he thought you were annoying as fuck

• only sees you during summer because you go to an all-girls catholic boarding school

• doesn't know how to deal with the fact that you grow more mature and prettier each year, so he resorts to tugging on your ponytail, pinching your waist, and teasing you with silly nicknames

• notices your hips getting wider and your chest growing fuller when you're 13, and he can't help but let his eyes linger a little too long when you aren't looking

• starts being more gentle when you play rough-and-tumble, one time, you even feel him growing hard beneath you, you never wrestled again after that

• introduces you to the infamous patrick one summer and it's the first time you understand why your dad tells you to be cautious of boys, so you stick to art, you feel safe with him

• forces patrick to invite you to his summer house after that, telling him you're like family, patrick thinks you're just getting in the way of precious boy-time with his best friend

• brings you to the beach to buy you ice cream as soon as patrick takes a nap, when you ask why patrick is missing, he tells you he's lactose intolerant and can't eat that

• tries to teach you about tennis but the shorts you're wearing makes it hard for him to form coherent sentences, he spends the whole time readjusting his own shorts

• gets mad that you always associates him with patrick, even if it makes sense since they're always glued to the hips

• his grandma thinks you're dating and calls you his girlfriend, he never bothered correcting her

• helped you get rid of the sand on the back of your thighs once and still thinks about the feeling of your skin underneath his fingers on a daily basis

• the first time he stroked himself thinking about you was after another day at the beach when he saw you mindlessly tugging at the crotch of your bikini bottom that kept riding up your crack

• was turned on by you long before that but had never admitted to himself that he was attracted to you and allowed himself to think about you in his most private moments

• caught you changing into your swimsuit once and turned bright red, it was so quick before you covered yourself and whined at him that he had barely seen anything but knowing that he saw you naked got him heavy breathing

• thinks of you as a prude innocent thing that needs to be shielded from the perversion of the world and keeps telling patrick to shut up when he starts saying innapropriate things in front of you

• gets obsessed with the idea of kissing you ever since you told him you wear flavoured lip glosses

• when he finally tells patrick about his crush, patrick is constantly on your back bragging about what a good guy art is and trying to question your feelings about him, but from art's point of view, it looks like patrick is monopolizing your time and he gets pissed about it

• gets in a big fight about it with patrick, after that patrick seems more distant with you

• finally kisses you in the ferris wheel at the funfair during the summer of your 17, he had planned that moment for days because he wanted your first kiss to be romantic

• changes his mind about you being prude and innocent when you're sucking on his tongue minutes later, you both spend the rest of the night making out on the beach

• when he tells patrick, he's all giddy until patrick reminds him how frustrating it's going to be for him to date a virgin who is saving herself for marriage

• starts officially dating you and when the making out gets too intense, he assures you he respects your choice to wait and he won't pressure you into doing anything

• you spent the whole summer after that just constantly dry humping each other, both soaked, always coming close to breaking the promise you had made to god

• gets so frustrated while making out that he asks for your hand in marriage while his is up your shirt, you laugh at him but maybe he was a little serious about it

• thinks about all the ways he could convince you to let him just slide the tip in for a second, just to feel you, but he won't

• the summer ends with you still a virgin, you did jerk him off though, a lot, like in every room and at any moment of the day, patrick even urged you to 'just do it already' the third time he caught you with your hand down art's pants

• pays for your train tickets home the first weekend back to school because he misses you so much already

• when you show him that after a long introspection you decided to stop wearing your purity ring, he already knows you're going to spend the whole weekend in bed

[yan-lorkai]

ooh could you do something similar to your octa-trio with darling interested in marine bio but instead it’s darling interested in zoology with savanaclaw?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: This is feeding into my obsession of learning random things so well, I've been binge reading everything about hyenas and lions these past few days lol. I hope you like it, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ "Leona, is it true that lions have a roar that can echo for eight kilometers? And that lions can't purr? And that female lions are the main hunters?" Question after question. Leona feels a growing headache, but also an urge to laugh. They're all such basic and silly questions, yet he's happy to know that you want to know more about lions, more about him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ His tail is wagging and his ears are twitching but if you point this out, he'll stop answering you and is going to pretend that nothing happened. For each question answered, you have to do something for him; usually Leona asks that you join him for a nap in his room or that you talk about your day, as he likes your voice and finds it relaxing to hear.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A lion's pride is his mate. So Leona holds you close so you can't escape from him to go around Savanaclaw asking other beastmen about their features and habits.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ "Ruggie, it's true that hyenas can purr? Can you purr for me, please?" You ask, softly, shiny eyes looking into his as you wait for something, anything. A sparkle of pink rush to his cheek as he laughed a little. "Oh! And it's true that the 'laugh' is actually a vocalization used to communicate excitement, fear, or submission? And that up to 80 hyenas can live in the same pride?"

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Oh goodness, you are feeding a little into his ego wanting to know all sort of things about hyenas now. He can't give the answer you want for free though, you have to give him a little incentive, maybe a few kisses, maybe food or you can try helping him on his errands and scratch his ears for him, either way, give your best shot as he is rooting for you. If he feels satisfied enough you will have your answers, otherwise, you can try again tomorrow.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He like this, having you cling to his arm, asking him things, it's cute. As a hyena, he's used to be throw around, to sacrifice and give freely to feed the kids in the slums and work harder than most. He feels a little greedy and he doesn't hide it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ "Jack, I have a few questions... How do wolves choose their leader? Is it true that wolves have an incredibly powerful bite force, capable of exerting up to 1,500 pounds per square inch?" You squint at him, right now, in his human form, Jack didn't seem capable of such things, even more with a mandible like that. His ears twitched a little, he was probably trying to think about how to respond to you, already knowing how you went to his upperclassmen with the same kind of questions. "By the way, wolves have a wide range of vocalizations to communicate, right? And they are also great at adapting to another habitat?"

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jack stares at you like a little dog, his tail wagging while a blush comes over to his face. He answers your questions to the best of his abilities, taking his time, so you spend more of your free time by his side. Your interest in wolves, in him more specifically, ignites a flame of interest inside him, maybe he really do have a chance with you and he'll do anything to get you to fall in love with him. For now, Jack indulges in your curiosity, he let you get close to him before trapping in his maws.

[tusk-rumours]

walking funny ‧͙⁺* (part 1) — sam winchester x reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: sam helps you when you're a little incapacitated after last night.

warnings: nsfw, 18+!! a shortish bit of smut (p in v, overstimulation, bondage, tears), mentions of oral (fem!receiving). the whole thing is a mention of sex basically. but mainly aftercare & fluff.

idk what to label this bc it is gn but there's a very brief bit of the reader being referred to as a lady/woman. so it's just x reader

a/n: i hope this is accurate because. can't say i've had this happen to me. ahaha. yeah. enjoy! this was also not meant to be this long lmao

acknowledgement to my saint @mxilkyways for the assistance. love u sexy, thanks for discussing sex positions with me lmao

read part two here!

It was safe to say that Sam had fucked you silly last night. Over, and over, and over again. He's had this effect on you numerous times now, after you get rough with each other for hours. Or when only he'd get rough and dominate you, tying you up and pushing you through the mattress like he did last night. But the feeling of embarrassment of being incapacitated from how hard Sam fucked you never eased.

You lay on your back, waking up way earlier than you intended. 7:32AM. Of course. You turn your head to look at Sam right next to you. He's sleeping peacefully, his face completely relaxed, his hair a little messy against his forehead and the pillow. You'd lift your hands and fix it up if you didn't want to risk waking him. He's such a light sleeper. He's on his side and pressed so close to you that his warm breath ruffles your hair a little, and you wonder how you're gonna successfully untangle yourself from his heavy limbs that are slung over you so firmly.

You manage the task with only a couple hums and unconscious movements from Sam, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, holding back a hiss at the pain. You stood up on shaky legs, almost doubling over if not for the wall right by the bed.

God. He really did a number on you.

It started to hit you full force as you stood, putting your weight on your jelly legs. Your legs and back ached, continuous dull pains throbbing underneath your skin. The worst of it was the uncomfortable pain between your legs, the pain there spiking with every time you agitated the area with a hobble towards the bathroom. You felt borderline bruised. Hell, you were.

You let out a sigh of relief once you make it to the bathroom, closing the door behind you and sinking to the floor, back against the door. You closed your eyes for a moment, before finally getting a good look at yourself.

Sam left harsh red marks from where he gripped you, from the plush of your thighs to your wrists. What he did to you last night was painted all over you, the meaning behind his art so clear it took no intellect to decipher it.

A crowd of hickeys covered your ribs, the softness of your stomach, down to the bones of your hips. Sam had an obsession with taking his time paying attention to every inch of your skin from your forehead downwards when he ate you out, drawing out the process as long as possible.

He mottled the soft and sensitive skin of your inner thighs with dark hickeys too, each mark a reminder of how you writhed and whined more with each nip and suck, of how the arousal you felt that was so close to his mouth getting more unbearable until he did it. Pressing his sweet lips and tongue against you so perfectly in all the ways he knew had you squirming, both of you just so unbelievably wet with your arousal.

You brush your fingertips over them now, your breath hitching a little at the sight. When you fumble for the hand mirror on the counter by the sink you're not prepared for the state of your chest and neck. They're so dark, and there's so many, and there's no fucking way you can cover these up.

"Fuck.." You whisper, wincing as you prod at the marks with your hand.

You didn't even want to attempt any whisk or concealer remedies, because nothing could quick-fix this kind of damage. You huffed, tipping your head back on the door. You would've gotten up if your legs felt capable, but of course, they didn't. So you sat, the bathroom air cold against your bare body. As much as you would've loved it, you knew you couldn't just flop onto the bathroom tile, and wait for Sam to try and open the door, only to be stopped by your body sprawled out like a doorstop.

It takes you an honestly embarrassingly long time to stand. You've gotten back up on your feet quicker on a hunt than this. You decide to blame it on the sleepiness, because yeah, that's exactly what it is.

When you step back into the bedroom, you let out a little disbelieving huff, pausing in the doorway for a moment. Sam hasn't moved.

Jesus, how the hell is he sleeping so well?

He always gets the best sleep after sex, no matter what kind it is. But you? You love when it's rough, truly. But you never get much sleep afterwards. At least when he fucks you gentle you're in for the best sleep of your life after.

Grumbling under your breath, you hobble to the dresser, pains shooting through you. You had a long day ahead of you, you knew that. You manage to dress yourself in one of Sam's flannels and some loose shorts, only almost tripping over once. You consider getting back in bed with Sam, who's still fast asleep (the lucky bastard), with his hands clutching your pillow. But the uncomfortable grumble of your stomach says otherwise. You know you'll start feeling sick soon if you don't eat.

Praying no one else is up yet, you creep out of the bedroom, shutting the door silently on your sleeping Sam. You knew you wouldn't be able to get by without at least someone noticing your discomfort, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. You were cringing at just the thought of Dean's reaction to what his brother did to you. You really didn't need him seeing that. So far the coast was clear as you moved through the halls. Even alone, it felt ridiculous to hobble. So you tried walking normally.

You just hoped your funny normal walk didn’t look as stupid as it felt.

You walked (or limped) into the kitchen, trying your hardest to walk normally, which probably made you look even more ridiculous. No one was here, thank god.

You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal, waddling like an idiot to the table, sitting down gingerly, a hiss slipping between your teeth as you do so. You focus on your breakfast, grimacing a little.

Why the hell did you make this? You've been getting so sick of cereal recently. The flakes are already soggy now as you move them around the bowl with the spoon. You groan, grimacing more once you take a spoonful. Eventually you just abandon it, half-eaten, sliding it away from you.

This wooden chair is doing absolutely no favours for your aching body, the splats on the backrest digging into your spine, the seat offering no support to your sore ass. You shift your legs uncomfortably, hissing a little at the intolerable pain between them, before you practically jump into the air in your seat when you suddenly see Sams massive body in your peripheral.

He stands in the doorway, his boxers he must've just slipped on sitting on his hips, his hair messy, smiling at your jump, and fuck, he always looks so good like this.

"There you are. You weren't in bed this morning." He says, far too cheerfully for your liking as you watch him come over, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then squishing it up to his.

"Cereal. Why'd you make that? You've been complaining about the sogginess for like a week now." He says softly, his eyes on the bowl sitting in the middle of the table.

You don't even have an answer to that, just pouting a little.

"I'll make you an actually decent breakfast in a bit, hm? How's that sound?"

"Good" You murmur, a little smile on your lips now.

After a moment of his comfortable embrace, he pulls away, taking you in. He can see the marks on your skin you couldn't hide, the slouchiness in your posture and the tiredness in your eyes.

In this moment, you hated him. You looked a mess. You were bruised and hobbling, set to be uncomfortable for the next couple days. But Sam, he looked fine. Not a single hickey or red mark on his skin. He could do a whole dance routine for you with how able his body is if he wasn't so terrible at it.

And worst of all, he liked it. That smirk of his told you that. And you wanted to slap it right off his pretty face.

But you knew you'd just look like an idiot trying to fight him in your state. So, you go for the next best thing. His comfort. You stand on shaky legs, using the arms of the chair to help you, then immediately turn into his chest. A small coo escapes Sam's lips as one of his hands moves to your hair, scratching your head slowly.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asks gently. He knows full well what's wrong with you. He knows, but you're still embarrassed to say it. You're always embarrassed to say it.

"I'm just a little— sore, from last night.." You mumble, dipping your head down, your eyes now very interested in the patterns of the tile floor.

"Oh, baby.." He responds, moving closer, his massive hands coming up to rest on your shoulders for a moment, before one catches your chin, lifting your head.

"Honey, why didn't you say? I always wanna know when I've hurt my baby." He says gently, his eyes as soft as his voice.

"It's a little embarrassing waddling around like a damn penguin because you fucked me good. And a little pathetic."

"Honey," He cracks a smile now with a soft chuckle, shaking his head fondly.

“You don’t—… look like a penguin.” He says, trying his hardest to suppress the quirks at the corners of his lips, however, the mirth in his eyes gives away his amusement anyway.

“Well I look like an old woman then.”

“Baby, you don’t—" He shuts up and purses his lips when he sees your face, stubborn as ever.

"Fine. You're an old lady penguin. Is there anything I can do for this geriatric penguin to ease the pain? You know I'm all for animal welfare."

You scoff, looking at his amused grin in disbelief, the lines in your forehead deep with your scowl.

"You're ridiculous."

"You're the one claiming to be a penguin. Now, tell me. What can I do?" He says, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes as he steps closer, taking your hand gently in his.

You soften, your face relaxing as you lean into him a bit. You think for a moment as you study your intertwined hands, rolling your wrists around a little.

You've always loved his massages.

"A massage? And not having to move would be nice."

He smiles, squeezing your hand gently.

"You got it."

You turn around, heading for your bedroom, before realising you're about to show Sam how stupidly you've been walking, no matter how much you try to hide it.

Like he's read your mind, you hear his laughter from behind you. Then he's scooping you up into his arms bridal style, holding you to his chest firmly. Despite the embarrassment of him having to carry you and the grumble that leaves your lips, you settle snugly into him, feeling his smile on your forehead.

Instead of your bedroom, he kicks open the bathroom door just a little down the hall from it, making sure you don't hit the wall or the door as he steps in. He kicks the door shut, surveying for a place to put you down, before he just sets you back on your feet.

His hands grab the hem of your shirt, his brows raised in question. Once you nod he pulls it off you, his eyes widening.

"Fuck." He says simply, his eyes glued to the barrage of hickeys and marks all over you.

"Yeah." You reply knowingly, watching his expression.

"Shit baby, I know I was rough as hell but jesus, this is worse than I thought it'd be." He sounds genuinely apologetic as his fingertips brush along your skin.

"Yeah. I don't know if you fucked me or beat me up last night." You tease, starting to get a bit of your confidence in the situation back. This happens every time. You cant quite wrap your head around why you always get so shy in the beginning.

He laughs, his cheeks burning a bit, his thumbs rubbing your waist, along the red marks there.

"I think I know exactly what I did to you. And it definitely wasn't beating you up, baby." His mouth harbors a smirk, but his voice is as soft as ever. His fingertips are gentle as they brush against your hips, like a reminder that those hands of his would never lay harm on you, no matter how much they have done.

Because you didn't bother with a bra that morning, his hands slide down from your waist to your hips where the band of your shorts are, hooking his thumbs in and pulling them down gently. You step out of them once they're at your ankles, and when you look up at Sam you almost bust out laughing at his expression.

His eyes are close to bulging out of his head as they focus on your thighs, his mouth open dumbly. Yeah, he's marked you up plenty of times before, but its not often it's this much.

"Sam?" A blink.

"Sam!" You try again, a little firmer.

This time he blinks away his stare, moving to your face again.

"I— i'm sorry baby, I just— god"

"You did spend a lot of time down there."

That gets him smirking.

"I did." He rests a hand on your hip again, watching his thumb as he thinks.

"God, you must be so sore," He breathes, his brows furrowed.

You say nothing in response, because you can't really tell him 'no, not really' because in all honesty, you're really fucking sore. And you're not about to lie to him.

You're both quiet for a moment before he pulls away a little sullenly. He turns the tap for the bath on, waiting for it to get warm then puts the plug in. You watch his back, a frown pulling at your lips. You don't want him to be upset about last night and feel guilty for how it went. You don't regret a thing, and you don't want him to either.

"Sam," You murmur, coming up close behind him, rising on your toes, and resting your chin on his shoulder. He clears his throat a little, turning his head to face you slightly.

"Stop thinking," Is all you murmur, kissing his cheek softly. He sighs at the soft touch of your lips. "And don't you dare feel guilty. You've got a serious talent with your mouth, baby." You tease, trying to get him to smile. He does, a blush creeping up on his cheeks, making your smile wider.

"Okay." He whispers, turning to face you.

"I'll put that lavender stuff you like in there, yeah?" He asks, his thumbs brushing your waist. He's got that puppy dog look on his face as he dips his head to look at you better, and the way he's so soft has you responding with just a tiny nod.

You watch while he puts in all your favourite oils and soaps, the room smelling sweet and lovely, suds foaming up the water. He even lights a few of the candles you put beside the tub when you guys settled in, wanting to make this as relaxing for you as possible. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, doing all this for you. It's all so goddamn sweet.

As the tub fills, you turn off the main light, casting the room in a warm glow from the candles. Even just the dimness of the room has you more relaxed already.

In small steps that don't agitate your body, you walk back over to where Sam's bent over the bath, testing the water. He'll put the temperature scorching hot just how you like it, even if he has to bite his lip to contain hisses. He'd prefer it warm, not like he's submerging himself in a vat of hot oil. But, if it's how you like it, then that's how it'll be.

He turns back to face you, hooking his thumbs into your panties with raised eyebrows. You nod, and he pulls them down, letting you hold onto his shoulder as you step out of them. The loss of the last piece of fabric reveals a few more love bites, completing the path they all led to your core.

"Are you coming in with me?" You murmur, your chin dipped low as you watch him move your clothes to the hamper.

He turns his head to you briefly with a quick smile. "'course," He's already hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers.

He hesitates before pulling them down, his gaze softer when he looks at you again. "Do you want me to?" He's worried he's gotten ahead of himself.

"Of course I do," You reply earnestly. It's so Sam to ask that when you've been together for years.

He smiles, the tension in his body relaxing as his hands move back to his boxers. Although you're very familiar with watching him strip, the softness in your demeanour doesn't change. In other words, you were all fucked out. For a good while.

He hesitates again, his boxers still on, God, was he trying to tease you? It's not like you were needy or anything, no, but you always want to see him.

"Alright, sweetheart, c'mere. Let's get you in." With one hand encompassing yours and the other steady on your waist, he keeps you balanced as you step in.

"Careful, baby," He murmurs as he helps you lower down into the hot water, internally scared out of his mind that you're gonna slip. Only once you're entirely settled does he finally pull off his boxers, stepping into the bath behind you. He settles his legs out so you're sitting between them, and lets out a sigh when he tugs you to his chest.

The water settles, reducing to soft noises as his fingers gently move up and down your forearm. He lets his eyes fall shut as he murmurs gently, his chin moving against your shoulder.

"You should've just stayed in bed, baby. Or if you wanted to get up you should've woken me."

You sigh. You knew something along these lines was coming.

"You barely sleep enough as it is. If I can get you to get at least five minutes more I will."

"Still. You know i'm here to help you. Whenever."

Silence falls between you, and you feel the tension in your muscles start to ease as you melt back against Sam's chest.

“Feel nice, baby? Water's good?"

You respond with a little hum, whispering; "Water's perfect,” with a teasing curl to your lips, digging at him just a little for his temperature preference.

He smiles back with an amused huff, burying his face into your shoulder blade as he starts pressing kisses to it, along each bruise, bite mark and hickey. He goes all the way up your neck, behind your ear. Your breathy sigh and the fluttering of your eyelashes don't go unnoticed by him.

He turns you gently in his arms so he has better access to your chest, pressing more gentle kisses to each mark on your neck and chest, his fingers tracing little hearts on the bruises he can't reach with his lips, like the ones on your stomach and hips.

His hands slide down to your thighs, rubbing along them, to the underside, and you can't help but think about the way that he—

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

—hooks his hands underneath your knees, hoisting your legs up so your calves rest on either one of his shoulders. You're both so hot, your bodies slick with sweat from so much exertion, and you were already tired enough from riding him for so long, but neither of you are done yet. He decided to grant you some mercy once you were slowing down, bouncing you himself 'till you both came, then letting you onto your back again.

His presence is heavy and lustful over you, his fingers pushing back the hair that sticks to your forehead as his hand dips down to angle his hardened cock. Both of you and the sheets are a mess of each other, your thighs and outside of your pussy slick from his saliva and when he came there.

"Sammy, I don't—" You whine, your hands squirming against the belt where they're tied in against the bedpost, wanting to grasp onto any part of him you can reach.

"Shh, c'mon, baby, I know. Just one more, yeah? I know you've got it." He coos, coaxing you over with a little tease of his tip to your clit, triggering your eyes to roll back.

"Sammy, I wanna— hold you, please," You beg, desperate whines leaving your lips.

"Oh, baby," He says condescendingly, a devilish smirk playing on his reddened lips.

"I think your hands are just fine there. Look good wrapped around my belt, yeah? Or would you prefer it between your teeth?"

His thumb comes up to your bottom lip as he speaks, pushing against your parted lips teasingly. He swipes a bit of spit there down your chin, and with a grin, he pushes his cock into your already abused hole, yet still giving you that delicious stretch nonetheless.

He wastes no time in setting a bruising pace, a hand sliding up your arm and gripping the skin underneath the belt harshly as he thrusts in and out of you.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes from how relentless he's being, tucking your head to the side into your arm as the hot tears slide down your burning red cheeks. You sob, and Sam moves his other hand that dug into your knee to grip the side of your head.

"Aw, honey, can't take my cock anymore huh? Maybe I just gotta lower your dose," He teases. He knows if he was seriously hurting you or making you uncomfortable you'd tell him to stop, you both communicate and trust each other enough to know that.

His teasing words only make you moan even more, shaking your head rapidly.

"No, no! Sammy please—"

"My baby's so desperate, huh? I'll give you more, baby, c'mon,"

And then he's sliding his arm under your hips, lifting them at an angle and pounding into you deeper and so hard you cry harder, a mess of tears and sobs until you're shaking, your pussy fluttering hard as you feel him cu—

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"So, what're we thinking for breakfast? Chocolate chip pancakes?" You're quickly snapped out of your daze, your eyes blinking wider, uncrossing your legs that somehow moved during your daydream.

It takes you a minute to think about what he said. Chocolate chip pancakes. Right. He knows you love those. Especially the way he makes them. He puts so many choc chips in there, there's more chocolate than pancake.

"Did those special psychic powers of yours include reading minds?"

He laughs, his palm rubbing up and down your arm.

"No, I don't even have those anymore, silly. I just know how to read you, baby." He smiles, nuzzling his nose against your temple.

"I know," You smile, relishing in his touch.

He then sets on the task of scrubbing you down, rubbing into your muscles with your favourite soaps. His big hands are perfect, digging into all the right spots. But eventually, after sitting against each other in the tub for so long, the water begins to grow cold, and goosebumps begin to rise upon your flesh. Of course, Sam feels it too, and shifts slightly behind you.

"Alright, we should get out," He rubs up and down your arms a few more times as you nod.

He gets out of the bath first, standing up behind you. He stifles a laugh when the water drips off his body and falls onto yours, watching your shoulders hunch and a grumbly noise leave your lips.

"Sorry, baby" He smirks through his apology, his fingers lightly brushing your head as he steps out onto the bath mat.

He turns around, extending his hands to help you. Your limbs definitely aren't as stiff, but they're still wobbly when you move them after sitting for so long. You rise on shaky legs, putting your weight into Sam's hands as he leans close, making sure you don't fall.

Once you get your bearings, standing in the tub, he looks at you with a little smirk, and you know he's gonna say something stupid.

"Is it awful to tell you that you look like a newborn deer?"

You scowl.

"I'm never letting you fuck me again."

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I just imagined if batchild who favored Tim being Bruce bio-child. Damian so jealous and angry because his blood sibling chose Drake over him? This is too personal. Poor Tim will not have peace. I can imagine Damian trying to prove himself to his little sibling.

But the question is, does Damian even really give a flying fuck about this kid? Or does he just hate Tim and wants to destroy any ounce of happiness this boy has? Questions. Questions. Questions. lol.

Idk I love Damian being a little shit,,, he's something a little silly

Yes, Damian will terrorize Tim over this. He has such bad emotional regulation and he doesn't fully understand why he's so angry. He doesn't particularly like children and all their crying and babbling..they're stupid and useless...

But it peeves him so much seeing Tim take on such a prominent older brother role in their life. Tim is tainting the kid, he's not teaching them properly. A child should be held this way, it should be taught this, you need to do this. That is what his mother did to ensure his proper development so it must be right!

I can just imagine Damian cringing at all the baby talk and stupid games Tim plays with them. At first he's such a hate watcher of them. He'll be in the corner of the room, glaring daggers into them. "hmph they're perfect for each other. Dumb and even dumber. Guess which is which..." He snickers in his mind

Then he resorts to insulting Tim and micro-managing him. His baby siblings doesn't need to play with rattles, they need to be doing more intensive activities....Ughh.. They're being so stunned right now.

Then...slowly when no one is watching, he might speak to it. He doesn't get down on the floor with his sibling, he's just looking down at 'em and low-key shit talking. They piss him off so much but still he's at a lost for why?? Why does he seem to care about them and their upbringing so much when he hates them?

It isn't until Tim leaves for a mission or something when Damian *attempts* to hold and play with batchild. The child just looked so pitiful that he felt compelled to entertain them. Batchild starts to unexpectedly grow on him...eventually he starts kind of...loving them...? He feels warm when they smile at him...and an intense passion to protect them...

He's shy about it but Damian is obsessed with that damn baby. He won't try to draw attention to it but that is his baby now.

He can't help but to feel so possessive over them too, he'll cross his arms and huff when someone picks them up...he's stealing them back after five minutess...

But here's where the issue arises, Damian finally is feeling super close with batchild and has created this secret bond that no one else understands. He's done this oath with them in a pillow fort and everything, he's confidently believes that he's the new favorite sibling.

"Okay, Now we will drink this grape juice as we are solidified as true bloods of the Wayne bloodline..."

*intense babbles and clapping*

"Yes, our superior lineage is something to celebrate."

But then Tim comes back and batchild completely forgets about Damian and rushes to Tim. Even refusing to be held by Damian later on. His heart is crushed and to him this is the ultimate betrayal.

If Tim didn't have peace before, he really won't have it now. Like Damian wants to duel over this, it's that serious to him.

The pure venom that Damian spews is so fucked up that I cannot even repeat it. Like Tim is worried for his safety at this point.

Damien would definitely steal batchild out of their crib at night and take them into one of the unused rooms in another wing of the manor. It's fully decorated with tons of things batchild loves, all necessities...even has tons of snacks and a fridge with goodies. Damian is fully prepared to be the sole provider for this baby. lmaoo. He's hiding this kid out there for a good couple of hours before everyone realizes where the two of them are.

Damian is fighting hard to keep from them taking batchild...but is defeated when batchild sees Tim and goes

"Timmy!!" and tries running to him. It's so hilarious. Damian is at his wits end. He's never going to stop though until he's number one. Even if "Timmy" has to go.

Dami is the most un-serious-serious person on the planet.

[mimimigan]

Spideypoolverine Headcanons

Because I have an obsession

Also some of these might be slightly Deadpool and Wolverine (movie) specific

•Both Logan and Wade call Peter 'Petey' (or Petey-Pie sometimes in Wade's case) (Logan called Jean Jeannie in the comics so. He would def call Peter Petey)

•Peter and Wade can both safely sleep next to Logan despite his claws coming out sometimes (Wade because he can regenerate obviously and Peter because his spider sense works even in his sleep)

•Logan is slightly more successful than Wade at getting Peter to sleep/eat/rest properly. Mostly because Logan won't take no for answer and will try to wrestle the guy into taking a nap (even though Peter is stronger sometimes he just relents and lets Logan win)

•Speaking of Peter being stronger, it took Logan forever to realize this, (Post DP&W) especially since Peter pulls his punches while fighting. Logan could tell he was really fast and agile so he thought that was the main reason Spidey did so well. So the first time Spidey got buried by some rubble, Logan panics. He thinks there's no way Spidey isn't horribly injured. Probably goes a little crazy and gets a little too violent, ending whatever conflict it was before Spidey can unbury himself from the rubble. He is definitely not super clingy afterwards.

•Logan doesn't fully grasp how strong Spidey is until he like, catches a car going 60 mph or something. He does get an inkling of it though when Peter picks him up and carries him around like he weighs nothing. Wade can also pick Logan up too. He does not like that they can do this. He secretly enjoys it a lot.

•Wade and Logan are, of course, very protective of their mortal squishy boyfriend. This does mean that they jump in front of attacks that he would easily dodge with his Spider sense. Peter does not like this.

•Peter also does not like their wanton violence to each other. Especially since he's the one who usually cleans up the blood. But he really just doesn't enjoy either of them being injured. Even though he knows they will heal, it still bothers him.

•Logan and Wade fight over who gets to patch up Peter when he gets injured enough to need stitches, bandanging up, etc. both claiming they are better at it. In reality it doesn't matter which of them does it, as long as Peter doesn't do it himself, as he sucks at it.

•Logan loves that Peter and Wade are both yappers. He likes that at least one of them is probably talking, if not both of them talking rapidly together. He likes the noise even if he isn't listening, though he usually is.

•Wade is, of course, physically clingy. He's almost always touching one if not both of them. Holding their hand, his hand on their thigh, playing with their hair, pulling them to sit on his lap or sitting on their lap, etc. It becomes infectious to where the three of them are just constantly touching if they're home, probably still holding hands or in close proximity out in public.

•Peter takes many pictures of the other two, most of them candid. Pictures of Logan sleeping on the recliner like an old man, of Wade mid-laughing, of the two of them wrestling, etc.

•Wade is the money-maker, Logan cooks, and Peter keeps their place clean.

•Wade is the most classically 'romantic'. Buying flowers and gifts for the other two, planning fun dates, writing silly love notes, etc. He doesn't really care if he receives things in return, though of course he appreciates it, he just likes to give them things.

•It really bothers Peter how both of them are in chronic pain (which is borderline canon for both Wolvie and DP) and that they both struggle with mental health issues (PTSD for Logan and the voices along with other things for Wade) and tries to find ways to help them since he's smart enough to. Even if it's little things like heated blankets or specially formulated lotions, icy hot, etc. I imagine he would spend a lot of time trying to make them feel better, including trying to develop drugs that actually work with their healing factors.

I could keep going because I think about these three way too often but I'll end it here. Maybe I'll make another post later about more headcanons I have hahah.

[oneforthemunny]

Could we have more of rockstar!eddie and nepo reader before all the girls are born? I love hearing about them pre family

i love them so much. i had to do just a mundane, sweet little moment. this is set during the engagement. it's just them being them, really- sexy, silly, obnoxiously obsessed with each other lol. mentions of smut but really nothing graphic, just fluff and love <3

"Oh-oh-oh," Eddie's chain bracelets jingled when he snatched the remote off the side table, muting the TV, turning to you with a wide grin.

"You did some damage, didn't you, baby?" Eddie snickered, eyeing the countless bags you had in your hands, stacked high up your wrist and forearms.

A huffy eye roll was his only response, but the little twitch of your lips didn't go unnoticed to Eddie. "Are you just going to sit there? You're not even going to pretend to help me?" You snapped, letting the bags slide down your arms, delicately setting them on the floor.

Eddie cooed at you mockingly, but he still stood, walking over to the door where the other bags were, grabbing them all in one swoop.

"Christ, sweetheart, this is a lot." Eddie muttered, looking at the countless bags that scattered around you. You already had a closet- no, two, technically- filled with clothes, shoes, accessories, spilling out and into the guest rooms.

"It's not really," You pivoted, looking around. "It just looks like a lot, but the majority of it is coats, and sweaters, and boots- they're just big items."

Eddie's heart swelled with overwhelming adoration, reaching out, hands cupping your face, pulling you in for a sloppy, passionate kiss.

After the engagement, you and Eddie had decided to go look for lake houses on Lover's Lake. It still shocked Eddie how much you loved the simple life, how much you loved Hawkins. There was no fancy Michelin restaurants or extravagant night clubs; really, he thought you'd want to avoid it entirely.

Yet the second he suggested looking at houses, just mentioned the idea of having a place to stay, you'd went out and bought an entire wardrobe, bursting with excitement.

"'M just teasin' you, baby. You know I don't mind." Eddie muttered, thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks. "'M just shocked you were able to find this much here. Thought we'd have to go back to New York again."

"I was too, but I think everyone's going to Alta again- it's the new thing." You rolled your eyes lightly. "But it works for me because I got the cutest things."

"Yeah?" Eddie's hands slid down your waist, grinning at how you squirmed. "Why don't you show me, baby?"

"Oh yeah?" You giggled, brows lifting playfully at him. "You want a fashion show?"

"Absolutely." Eddie purred lightly, stepping over the bags, collapsing onto the couch. "Model 'em for me, baby. Show me what you got."

He'd never admit it, publicly, anyways, but it was weakness- seeing you in all your pretty things. Twisting and turning for him in all your new things- oh, it was his favorite form of foreplay.

Watching you strip down to your pretty matching bra and panty set, slipping on dress, jeans, shirts, shoes, then getting to see you model them. But his favorite, absolute favorite part-

"Ed," You hummed, an arm reached around your back, holding the dress together. "Can you zip me up? I can't reach it."

You'd always give him a little playful pout- he wasn't sure why. Like he had ever deprived you, deprived himself, of his favorite part. When he'd get to zip you up, zipper sliding purposefully slow up your frame, his fingertips ghosting over your skin just to feel your shiver. Always giving you a soft pat on your ass, a kiss on your shoulder before his chin pressed to the crook of your neck, looking at you through the mirror.

"I thought this was so cute for the fall. Maybe Thanksgiving? Or if we go out with your friends again." You tilted your head, hands smoothing over the fabric.

Eddie fought back a snort. He wouldn't dare tell you that a Prada dress might be a little too dressed up for his friends from home.

"Looks beautiful, baby. You look beautiful." Eddie grinned, nose brushing over your cheek, lips pressing to the soft skin there.

Your lips twisted in a blushing grin you tried to hide, chin ducking and smoothing out the dress. "Unzip me." You pushed him off lightly with a giggle, his hands a little too grabby on your hips.

"You better calm down, Munson." You looked at him through the mirror, tugging the straps off your shoulders. Eddie's gaze dropped from your eyes to your chest in the mirror, making you giggle.

"I still have a lot of clothes to try on." You lifted a brow at him.

"Can't wait to see 'em all." Eddie's tongue ran over his bottom lip, stepping back to look at your ass in your lacy, high cut panties.

"You buy any more sets like this?" His finger hooked under the tiny band, pulling it and releasing so it snapped against your skin gently.

The squeal you gave had him grinning, hands already reaching to grab you, but you pivoted, reaching for another bag. "Maybe," You hummed, lashes batting over your shoulder at him. "Guess you'll have to be patient and see."

Eddie's lips pressed together in a grin, eyes wild and dark, filled with dangerous excitement that always had your tummy flipping with rushing heat. "Sit down." You nodded towards the couch. "Let me show you my next one. I think you'll like it."

Eddie sat, perched on the edge of the cushion, legs spread, knee bouncing lightly as you rummaged through the bags. When you turned, Eddie barked out a laugh.

"I bought a sweater." You grinned proudly. A running joke between the two of you from much earlier in your relationship.

"You don't have a sweater? You have a fuckin' million clothes, and no sweater? Seriously?"

"I live in Beverly Hills, Ed. Why would I need a sweater?"

There in your hands, with the Ralph Lauren tags still attached, a true thick knit, cream sweater that you held proudly. "A real sweater." You giggled.

"Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about, baby. That's a real sweater." Eddie grinned around a laugh. "Lemme see it on you. Put it on for me."

The wolf whistle he gave when you slipped it over your head had you giggling, shimmying the cashmere into place. You didn't get a chance to show him the Vivienne Westwood pleated skirt you'd bought to go with it, before he had you pinned on the couch, lips hungrily tugging at yours, hands slipped under the soft fabric of your sweater.

[a-hazbin-reader]

OMG CAN YOU DO A ALASTOR X MOTHER READER WHERE THEY WAS TRYING TO HAVE ALONE TIME YK MOMMY N DADDY TIME BUT THE TWINS CAME AND RUIN PUSHING ALASTOR AWAY SO HE WON'T TOUCH THEIR MOMMY

👀

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive?, Alastor VS His babies, Alastor and his kids being possessive

Description: 👆⬆️

When it first happens, Alastor thinks it's adorable and can't help laughing at his silly children

He had come back from an overlord meeting and was eager to kiss you, pulling you in close

"How was the meeting, darling?"

His lips are almost touching yours, practically teasing both of you by denying that final touch

"Uneventful as always, my dear~"

Just when he goes to close the distance, you're both suddenly frozen in place, feeling little hands pushing you apart

You both look down to see your twins trying to shove Alastor away from you with all their little might

Their little faces scrunched up in outrage and concern as they try to break their father's iron grip on you

"Oh my~! It seems someone doesn't like it when I take their mother's attention~"

He's laughing and picking up the twins just to squish them between you and him, kissing their squishy cheeks

"BA!"

The second time it happens, Alastor is shocked, not realizing how serious his babies were about this

They're sitting in their highchairs, being fed by you when he comes up to kiss your cheek

His arm wraps around you and he rubs his cheek on you, not paying attention to the warning growls from his spawn

Or the way their ears fold back and they start bleating at him to get off their mother

He goes to kiss you, when suddenly, there's a wet slap of food hitting his cheek

You have to cover your mouth to keep from laughing, your twins already grabbing another handful of food

"Now now~ It's important to share with your pap-OH! That's not very polite..!"

It seems Alastor has finally met his match, running out of the room with his tail between his legs

The third time is when Alastor starts getting concerned, the two of you alone in bed

He just wanted some time alone with you after you two had put the twins down for the night

And you could hardly deny him with his lips kissing along your neck and strong arms pulling you against him

Eventually, his lips find yours, and the kiss turns heated with wandering hands starting to slide under each other's clothes-

When there's a cry from the baby monitor and you both are taken out of the mood, giving each other sheepish looks

"Not to worry, darling~ Watch as your capable husband puts them back to sleep~"

Alastor picks up the monitor and speaks into it softly, his voice usually enough to make the babies fall back asleep

Instead, there's the sharp sound of radio interference and an indignant shriek on the other side, making your husband's ears fold back

"I think I should probably be the one to put them back to bed..."

You give your husband a small pat on the head before kissing him, heading into the nursery for the night

The bed has never felt more lonely

Alastor never thought his own children would turn on him, betrayal truly is a devastating thing

SOMEHOW his children have gotten the idea in their heads that their mother isn't something to SHARE

He has no idea how they learned that

It looks like he'll have to do something he had hoped he would NEVER have to do

Talk about sharing his wife

With his children

But still

So he takes the children for the day, letting you have a day to yourself and kicking you out of the hotel

His twins are obviously a little miffed at him for sending you away, it wasn't a decision that Alastor made lightly

But without the object of their little obsession, then they're back to being his loving little babies

They're snuggling into him when he decides to try and explain why the three of them need to share you

"Now, your mother and I...we need time not only for ourselves but also for each other."

At first, the twins eye him with a dubious expression on their faces, little hands curling into angry fists

"And the three of us, we all love her very much, don't we?"

Then they start to relax and lean on him again, as if accepting their father's words

Things feel calmer when you come back home later that night, your husband and babies all practically glomping on you

Whatever rivalry they had going on before seems to have ended, finally being able to have some affection from your husband without being interrupted

"So...it looks like we're alone~"

"It would seem so, darling~"

He's chuckling and pulling you close, reaching back to lock the door behind him-

"Um? Alastor? There's a bunch of angry guys outside and..."

At least not by your own children

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

[contamination-zone]

I am obsessed with the way you draw and characterize fresh-

It makes me smile :)))

A simple request for the silly to be drawn with the inkerr AND the nightmare :))

ur art is so yummy delicious and i want to eat it, and i hope you have a wonderful day

that one... pj's meme. Fresh just likes that they're fighting over him.

not ship :-]

^ immediately thought of the three of em'

I think if it was ship. fresh would be the worst person to ever have in a poly relationship, because he turns all his partners against each other cus he likes being fought over

[moodymisty]

Author's note: Funny Guilliman snippet. Guilliman/Fem!Reader implied, Tokophobia warning maybe, @lemon-russ enjoy

Guilliman often found himself preferring the feeling of writing on the rough surface of parchment than anything else, dipping his pen in fresh ink to finish his sentence. He nearly fumbles it, grumbling to himself. The pen he manages to catch, but his slight shifting causes him to wince and wait for noise.

Cradled in the elbow nook of his right arm his own child lets out a soft murmer, just barely disturbed but not enough to wake. They shift just slightly, wiggling in the warm blanket and continuing to suck on their thumb.

Guilliman could barely contain the sigh of relief.

This is the first time he has taken care of his child without you close by to help him; He isn't entirely confident he could soothe them if they woke up. The nervousness is, unfamiliar to him- though he can't help the fear of this new unknown.

But you desperately need the break, and Guilliman knows he can only cower in fear of his own child for so long. He can no longer use the excuse of their tiny size in comparison to his own hands to hide his broader fear of failure.

Shifting in their little blue blanket and resuming their nap, Guilliman resumes his work, but a feeling on the back of his neck causes his eyes to glance upward and to his left.

Decimius Felix is looking down at Guilliman's lap with an odd expression, brow furrowed as if... Confused. Guilliman turns his head to meet the astartes face on.

"It is a baby, Decimius. Are you familiar with the concept?"

The Tetrarch reels backwards as if hurt, his armor plates clicking against each other.

He then gets a bit irritated at his Primarch clearly poking fun at him, his nose wrinkling just a tad. His men are still quite shocked by his sense of humor, a trait Guilliman sometimes enjoys messing with.

"Yes, my primarch. It is just,"

Guilliman is well aware that his relationship with you had shocked his legion. They were unfamiliar with why he would even consider such a thing. His child had been an even greater surprise; Even months later, they are still confused. Many of his captains had vocalized their displeasure with him for bowing to baser things, though this displeasure he preferred over the Eclessiarcy's obsession over his believed holy child.

His chapter's standoffishness has started to fade a bit, but disapproval still lingers within all of his command, apart from Calgar.

He reminds himself to thank the Chapter Master for his personable attitude in spite of everything before Felix speaks up again.

"Will they just keep sleeping?"

Guilliman has to resist the urge to smile. It's such a painfully innocent question. One that he had thought as well, at one point.

"Until they're hungry, yes."

Guilliman can see the shift in Felix's lips, like he has another thing he wants to say, and Guilliman prays that he won't ask what happens then. He would rather throw himself out of the airlock and let the cold vacuum whisk him away into the grand unknown then explain to one of his men why he would need to get you for that process.

Thankfully however he doesn't say anything more, and simply hums, looking at the infant a moment longer. Not that there's much to see; They're swaddled up in the thick blanket to the shoulder, only a pudgy face with a thin wafting of light blonde hair is visible.

You had laughed hysterically the moment the hair started to grow in; They had gotten blessed with Guilliman's bright blonde hair, and around the same time their real eye color had come in; In which they'd inherited yours.

There, lets brush all the hair down just like that. Now you have silly little bangs just like your father- Right Robu?

He glances down at them again and smiles. He's never felt happier, prouder, than he is now. And to think it's because of something so simple.

He wonders if Tarasha and Konor felt the same, when they held him as a child.

"When will they need to eat?"

Guilliman has a gathering of his men scheduled for a bit from now, and he assumes Felix is prodding him due to wondering about a potential conflict of time.

"Soon."

Guilliman's hand drifts to the bottom of the page, eyes on the tip of his pen rather than the vaguely perturbed expression of his Tetrarch.

"...What do they e-"

Guilliman's hand suddenly jolts and the inked pen skids across the parchment, ruining his signature and making a rough scratching noise that surprises even himself. He doesn't need to look in Felix's direction to know he's a bit surprised.

"This conversation is over. Go ask that question to the serfs if you need an answer desperately."

[teddybeartoji]

obsessed with the idea of satoru flustering suguru by accident all the time.

it happens more than the dark haired man would like to admit. he feels a bit embarrassed whenever satoru manages to get such a reaction out of him – he's used to being the one conjuring the prettiest blushes on satoru's cheeks but now he's the one that has to turn his face away in order to hide the growing tint splayed across his cheekbones.

and it happens because of the smallest things too! satoru isn't even doing anything crazy – suguru's hair was in his face, so the blue eyed prince just casually bruhed it away behind his ear. like a good friend! nothing special. satoru didn't even blink an eye at that, he did it so casually – didn't even stop rambling about the new manga he's been reading.

suguru is starting to hate his own eyelashes, too. that's supposed to be his move! to take it from satoru's cheek and make him blow it away with a smug little smile. so why is his heart racing when satoru does the same thing to him? suguru can't even tell what would be worse – satoru being cocky about it or him being completely oblivious to the way suguru breath hitches when satoru's slender fingers graze against his cheek. maybe he does wish he'd be more smug about it... that way suguru would be able to tell whether he's messing around or not. he hates feeling like this. like satoru has the upper hand.

(satoru isn't even aware that he has the said 'upper hand'.)

suguru also has a hard time when satoru is staying over. which happens a lot. satoru is touchy, he always has been and suguru has never had anything against that – hell, he's like that too! but now that he's been... feeling things - it's getting more and more difficult to focus on anything else whenever satoru's touching him. a lanky arm around his shoulder, a white mop of hair on his lap. a taller body pressing up against his back. thighs brushing against each other. hands touching. by accident, by accident, by accident. it doesn't mean anything – they're just friends!

(right?)

satoru even borrows his clothes. and suguru thinks he's about to faint every time he sees him in them. skin still damp from the shower, happy trail peeking from under the hem of the shirt (it's a bit short on satoru. he doesn't mind though.), sweats hanging low on his waist – satoru ruffles his wet hair as he walks into the kitchen and suguru can't help but stare at the way his muscles contract with every move he makes.

"no wonder you always smell so good, sugu! i was really thinking about eating the shampoo, heh."

this is ridiculous!!!!!!!!!!!!! his heart is doing the thing again.

wiping a hand over his face, suguru tries to drown out the butterflies in the pits of his stomach. he takes a sip of his coffee while satoru takes a seat across him and oh, no it just keeps getting worse. of course, suguru already made him his sweet little drink aswell and he now has to suffer through the scene of watching his pretty, glossy lips curling around the edge of the mug; his eyes close ever so dreamily as he tastes suguru's love and he let's out the most beautiful hum. satoru is happy. and suguru thinks he's about to die.

suguru can't wrap his head around the effect satoru seems to have on him. shoko finds it incredibly funny. whenever they're hanging out all together, she's constantly trying to hold back her cackles because of how silly the situation is. satoru is sitting on suguru's lap – he just kinda stumbled backwards because he got so into the conversation he's having with shoko. suguru's hands hover above his waist, not knowing whether to guide him or not. so now he's 'stuck' with a giddy satoru on his lap and a blush tinting the tips of his ears.

satoru also has the tendency to steal bites from suguru's food, often straight from the fork. suguru watches his pink tongue dart out from his mouth for a mere fraction of a second before swallowing the treat. he's so close too, he always is. leaned over the table, satoru with his lips still around the fork. apparently suguru has a thing for him humming. he just can't catch a break.

satoru pulls back just enough to take his mouth of the utensil but stays in his spot over the table. elbows on the wood, he chews his– suguru's food with a big lopsided smile and twinkling eyes. and just to make things even worse for boy with the crush – satoru bumps his foot against suguru's under the table making the latter's eyes widen.

only a little! only a little! maybe he is thankful that satoru is so oblivious because this would just be outright embarrassing if he wasn't.

suguru feels it. the teasing pair of eyes.

he tears his own from the boy in front of him and he's met with shoko. oh, he hates her sometimes. (he doesn't.) her eyes are crinkling just a little in the corners as she folds her arms over her chest. her lips tug up into a very, very annoying grin and suguru wants to just sink below ground. he tries to act unphased but it clearly doesn't fucking work when shoko just keeps... staring at him. he gives her an eye-roll as the last try to seem cool but the thoughts of her teasing him fade the second satoru leans closer again, making suguru do the same instinctively.

wrong move.

satoru's hand reaches out to brush away the small crumb from the corner of suguru's lip with a laugh. he makes a joke, surely a really bad one, but it doesn't matter because suguru doesn't even hear it.

him and his stupid heart – he doesn't even have a chance. satoru's laughter tastes like bubblegum and it's weird because suguru has never been much of a sweet tooth, but now here he is. willing to eat more and more and more. he's willing to take all the teasing in the world if that means he gets to see satoru smile again.

+ miuu i love them so fucking muchh!!! this was inspired by this lovely little edit hehehe!!!

[acis-arts]

What's a fandom without a Swap AU?

I'll be talking more about the ideas I have so far down below!

I'm pretty sure this has been done before, since this is a pretty basic (but still fun) AU idea. I just haven't really seen any fanwork from anyone about a Swap AU, so if someone has actually already done their own version of a Swap AU, then I would love to see it!

For now I'll just be sharing my own ideas:

As you can see, I definitely want to swap the Lamb and Narinder as characters! The Lamb now being The One Who Waits and Narinder being the last of his kind, meaning there is no more cars :( It also makes for another fun ship dynamic between them, with the Lamb being a callous yet playful silly God and Narinder being their calculated little Vessel, not admitting to his softer side when helping his Followers.

For the AU bishops, I thought it would be pretty cool if they are 4 of the slaughtered Lambs and I REALLY want to create some cool Bishop Lamb designs! But then I remembered, wouldn't that mean that the original bishops are the slaughtered ones then? But they're not cats like Narinder, so the original Bishops could just be something like regular followers, who eventually grow close to Narinder, becoming his found family. For the sake of having fun with this AU, I will make Bishop Lambs, unless I suddenly realize/someone points out that it really doesn't make any sense.

I don't have a lot more ideas yet, but I just thought about this idea on the spot: maybe the NPCs from the Map Areas could be swapped with each other. Like, swapping Plimbo with the Fisherman and Sozo with Midas, since Plimbo and the Fisherman should probably stay near water while Sozo and Midas really just a swap their obsessions.

Also no idea who the Mystic Seller should be swapped out with, maybe with their Disciples(?)

That concludes all my ideas so far! I'm open for any feedback or suggestions, thanks for reading!!!

[remderance]

happy xb monday!

alright, so today's xb monday is a great opportunity for me to tell you about my silly eldritch horror husbands au!

basically, in this au both xb and keralis are eldritch creatures and they are happily in love and married to each other and. that's pretty much it. you can say they are "retired" from all the eldritch horror stuff and just live almost normal lives as hermits with some occasional incidents happening...otherwise just 2 almost perfectly normal guys on an absolutely normal server being in love. maybe they're also a bit obsessed with each other, given how much time they spend together, doing stuff related to or for each other. well, you know, normal xbralis stuff. they will just sit together and talk a lot about stuff only they could understand and if any other hermit will hear their conversation it will just sound absolutely bonkers. and that's all i need. it's a silly au, really.

now let me tell you a bit more about xb himself! meet the papa of all guardians, the great marine disaster, eldritch god of ocean and all that entails...in his true form he is a big fella, that is true, but really he's quite chill and generally won't harm you if you treat the ocean or its habitants with respect. otherwise, he might slap you out of existence or something even worse.

he created all of the guardians to protect the waters (hence the name) from any threat that might oppose. in guardian culture he is their god, the great creator. he is depicted in their monuments and is well respected. additionally, conduits are quite literally his eyes! he can see through them, which is an awesome way to annoy hermits by asking them about their super-secret underwater projects that no one is supposed to know about.

of course, by itself xb's true form is too large to actually be on hermitcraft and comfortably interact with the other hermits. that's why you can see those glowing lines on his body. they are, in fact, magical runes(but i am too lazy to draw them properly) that transfer his consciousness to a human body, while the large form is asleep.

that's where we get to talk about human form of xb!

he got none of them fishy features, but he still managed to keep his crown of spikes. i'm sure he never came up with any explanation for the other hermits, and they just got used to it.

additionally, being a normal size brought him an unusual problem: guardians ADORE him. xb usually can't even approach monuments because all of the guardians start swarming around him happily. they recognize their god, they know he is their papa! they are incredibly happy to let him know that. and don't get xb wrong- he loves his little children and can't ignore them, but sometimes he needs to actually do his tasks, and he doesn't have an extra 5 hours to pat each one of the guardians on their spiky heads..

oghh boy.. that post is a mess. but so is my brain when i think about xbralis.

also, a big shoutout to @mawofthemagnetar and their amazing eldritch horror keralis fic which is what partly inspired me to create this au.... i love this fic—it has changed my life