#this is my 100th post....damn...

[plenary-indulgence]

added another npc alt to my stable since everyone else was doing it lol

[lambinarmor]

captain wesker wears grey sweatpants sometimes

[thebirdarts]

Mura Hagdaughter<3 its been a while but i found a great ref and she just called to me! in a way this is a redraw of my previous Mura portrait [under the read more] and so i used the shattered stained glass imagery once more. Given that, its fitting that this is also my 100th post on this blog!

shattered glass and face portrait

[milcycyrus-archived]

miley cyrus, thirty years young, pansexual, just looking for friendship mode green flags i look for:  loud people are my jam, animal lover in general, specially dogs but animals are the best things for us humans, family is everything to me - i’m super close with my mom people think we’re literal twins. facts about  me:  i wanted to dye my hair for the new but dolly said no, i did anyway. i still stick my tongue out just not as much i used too. i have seventy four tattoo’s on my body, yes seventy four.  typical sunday for is:  walk along the beach (if in my malibu home) with the dogs, do a bit of yoga and honestly just chill the fuck out, that is what sundays are for aren’t they? oh and being a total slob aka catfish.

[dorkspine]

The Nickelodeon version of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles turned 10, so I drew my favorite turtle. Also, I think I might've went for a new art style.

[truebluesanji]

Marry Me 💍

just one of my many self indulgent sanji daydreams because I’m crazy about this man (also this is my first one piece fanfic and my first time posting anything like this so please have patience with me 🥺 if you like it please let me know, this is a story I might want to expand on in the future!) enjoy! 💕

warnings: sanji flips off zoro one time lol

genre: fluff

pairing: sanji x fem reader

summary: sanji asks you to marry him. again.

"God, you're incredible. Please, please marry me," Sanji begged, dropping to his knees and taking one of her hands in his. He pressed kiss after kiss into the back of her hand, whispering sweet nothings between each one.

She laughed, and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard in his life.

"Marry you, hmm?" she purred, a sensual smile on her lips. She ran her free hand through his hair, tracing down along his jaw. He shivered. She placed her fingers under his chin, gently tilting it up towards her. He nodded, never breaking eye contact.

“You’d never want for anything ever again,” he whispered. “I’d dedicate every moment of every day to filling your life with love and laughter. My heart, my soul, my everything. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“A tempting offer for sure,” she hummed, leaning tantalizingly close to his face. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in his proposal. In him. But he didn’t need to know that just yet. Not when this game they played was so fun.

He was utterly hypnotized by her every move and she knew it. As she continued to close the gap between them, Sanji’s eyes fluttered shut — and was that whimper she heard? He held his breath and puckered his lips.

“This is it,” he thought to himself, heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

She was so close now that their noses just barely touched, and he could practically feel her lips brush ever so gently against his. The proximity made him dizzy in the best way.

“Ask me again later, loverboy…” she whispered.

His eyes snapped open to catch a glimpse of her walking away, head looking over her shoulder with half lidded eyes, lips curled into a smile, and her hips swaying in that way he just couldn't rip his eyes away from. Hypnotizing.

One of his arms fell to the ground to hold up his body while the other involuntarily reached out for her. She blew him a kiss and it struck him through the heart like an arrow from Cupid. He clutched his chest and he heard that sweet laugh floating through the air once more. Once she was out of sight he let out a dreamy sigh, wiping away the bit of blood that started to trickle down his nose.

Sanji jumped to his feet and practically squealed with excitement. That is, until a certain gruff voice cut through the air.

“You’re pathetic.” Zoro spat out, peering down from the top of the crows nest.

“Screw you, damn moss head!” Sanji growled, flipping a middle finger up in the swordsman’s direction. “You just don’t get it,” he sighed, slipping back into his lovesick daze.

“What is there not to get? I didn’t hear her say yes,” Zoro taunted. “And isn’t this like…the 100th time you’ve asked?”

“Yeah well, she’s never said no. And for the record that was only the 17th time,” Sanji corrected, straightening out his jacket. “I’ll ask as many times as it takes. She’ll say yes someday, just you wait.”

Zoro just rolled his eyes as Sanji skipped away, already making plans for his next proposal.

—

Actual footage of this exact moment:

[fazedlight]

What's Wrong with 5B?

(aka: how It’s a Super Life ruined everything)

The premiere of season 5 was simple. Kara fucked up, felt deeply sorry for it, and revealed her secret to Lena (driven solely by her guilt) after far too long of gaslighting her. Unfortunately, it was a bit too late, Lena was already (rightfully) pissed and about to exact a(n outsized) revenge about it. Easy peasy.

We see Kara struggle with it a little. She gives Lena the superwatch, looking super guilty the whole time. She brings Lena international treats, talks to Alex about how she’s nervous about interacting with Lena. But she seems to have underestimated the damage she’s caused - and Lena is going through a major disillusionment. 

Both of which are mostly in character from my perspective. But with the caveat that, I knew the basic summary of the Rift before I watched the show. So those were moments the characters were already building to in my head. (I know some people think that Kara’s reaction in season 3 was out of character, or that Lena’s reaction in 5A was out of character, and those are valid opinions that are worth exploring! If I watched the show unfold live, maybe I’d be in that camp too.)

We then see Lena’s betrayal and Kara scrambling to pull Lena back from the edge into an anti-villain arc. The Crisis happens, Kara visits Lena, and Lena calls Kara out - “What did you think would happen when you came here? That you'd tell me everything in a fit of selflessness, even if it meant that I knew how you betrayed me, and then I'd just keel over and forgive you?” Kara still knows she did something wrong, and vows to never do it again.

Aaaaand then It’s A Super Life (beloved/beloathed) happens.

I really liked the episode the first time I saw it. I was a supercorp shipper who hadn’t read a single fic. And on its face, I mean, they dedicated the entire 100th episode to the relationship between Kara and Lena and trying to repair it. It failed, sure, but they'd make up eventually (again, I was spoiled).

But that episode was really about absolving Kara. It was a bizarre conclusion. Kara no longer had fault, because any reality they tried out would’ve failed. … which makes no damn sense. Even if no reality could work (I’m skeptical), Kara didn’t know that at the time she made her decisions. She still has fault for the harm she knew she was causing (even if it happened to work out better than the alternatives she didn’t know about).

I think this is a narrative shift. This isn’t just about the in-universe “Kara believes she’s absolved”. This is a writer's ploy to change the narrative and make the audience think that Kara didn’t have fault. Writing this as a character flaw might’ve worked, maybe, if they had Kara reexamine her assumptions later. But as a narrative? … the shift fell completely flat.

The rift was canceled at this point. Suddenly it was no longer the story of two people’s flaws interplaying in the worst possible way. Suddenly it was: Kara is right, Lena is wrong, let us never speak of it again.

It makes everything that comes after really grating. The end of 5x19 (where Kara goes “maybe I’m ready to forgive you now” and shakes Lena’s hand) feels completely empty, because there’s no acknowledgement from Kara that she fucked up - a fact she fully understood at the beginning and middle of the season! It bleeds into season 6, where we never see Lena hash things out with the superfriends or with Kara post-return. It makes the finale (Lena’s “You made me a better person”) fall flat. At this point multiple people in the fandom have pointed out that it’s Melissa’s acting that is Kara’s saving grace (though even that has limitations, as many of us felt with Sadie). But Kara as a character really suffers - and with it, her relationship with Lena, and Lena's arc - because the writers did not make a convincing argument for their shift. 

The hero’s always right, I guess? The main character can’t have major flaws? (I hope someday we learned what instructions they were getting in the writing room 😂)

For my own sanity, I have a whole slew of conversations(/arguments) in my head that I place into season 6 to fix some of this (as well as making Mxy a liar who was trying to make his friend feel better, rather than those other timelines being real). But while they’re canon-compliant… they aren’t canon. What we needed was something on screen to make the relationship shine again, to have Kara revisit why her rationale absolving her in the 100th episode didn’t follow at all, and have Lena work through her issues with Kara and the rest of the superfriends. But we didn’t get that.

Which means everything post-100th will always feel wrong to me.

[kingofbodyrolls]

39,5°C (Fever) (m) | pjm

When you get sick you want three things; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Genre/AU: Established relationship, non idol!au, pwp, smut, fluff if you squint → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 6,2k → Warnings/tags: Explicit smut in the form of, masturbation (female), fingering, nipple sucking/play, unprotected penetration (they are in an established relationship, but please use protection irl), some cock warming, a lot of orgasms, fucking while sick, OC is so fucking needy and desperate and Jimin just wants to please her. → Author's note: Thank you to everybody who follows, either for my own fics or my recs - it's much appreciated and means so much to me 🥹 So, for my 100th follower milestone, I give you this; I hope you like it 💜

Main masterlist. Cross-posted to Ao3.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues as you slowly roused from sleep. 

Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you stretched languidly, only to realize that the warmth next to you, Jimin, was absent. 

Confusion furrowed your brow, a dull ache throbbing at your temples. It was as if your mind was wading through a fog, struggling to piece together the events leading up to this moment.

A damp sensation beneath you snapped your senses awake. 

Panic fluttered in your chest as you registered the wetness on the bed. 

Your skin prickled with discomfort, a blend of clammy sweat and shivers that chased each other up and down your spine. Hot and cold sensations mingled, creating a disorienting dance across your flesh. Your body trembled and you felt a surge of arousal run to your core, a telltale sign of a fever. 

A hand to your forehead confirmed your suspicions - heat radiated from your skin, the feverish touch undeniable. The realization sent a sinking feeling through you, an unwelcome interruption to your routine. 

You contemplated checking your temperature, not just to provide a concrete reason for your absence from work, but also to validate the intensity of what you were experiencing.

With a resigned sigh, you fumbled for the thermometer, its cool surface a stark contrast to your fevered skin. 

As you watched the numbers climb, anxiety held its breath alongside you. 39,5 degrees Celsius glared back, a glaring testament to your body’s turmoil. ‘Yikes’ barely covers the magnitude of this fever, the word echoing like an alarm in your mind.

Reluctantly, you reached for your phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial your workplace. 

Explaining your condition to your boss felt like admitting defeat, you were rarely sick, a palpable sensation of vulnerability washing over you. The conversation passed in a blur, your voice sounding distant even in your own ears as you negotiated the details of your sick leave.

Once the call ended, you were left with the weight of the day ahead - or rather, the weight of what wouldn’t be. You really love your damn office job. Resignation settled in as you acknowledged that rest was your sole agenda. 

This was no mere inconvenience; it was a mandate from your own body, an uncompromising insistence on self-care.

Your thoughts drift through a dense fog, each one a weighty presence that seems to slow time itself. 

Amidst this mental haze, a singular desire emerges, commanding your attention like a beacon in the darkness; to get off.

When you get sick, you’re out of commission, but Jimin possesses remarkable resilience, bouncing back from ailments with an almost enviable speed. He might slow his pace a tad, yet he’s soon up and running again, his vigor only temporarily dimmed. 

However, your own journey through illness is an entirely different narrative. When illness casts its shadow upon you, it’s as if the world grinds to a halt - a relentless fog that blankets your thoughts and body. 

You only want three things really; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.

It’s a craving that rises like a tempest, demanding to be acknowledged. 

The desire for intimacy, for the warmth and connection that only your boyfriend can provide, becomes a beacon in the haze of your illness. It’s a need that fluctuates in intensity, an ebb and flow that mirrors the unpredictable nature of your symptoms. 

In a daze, you squeeze your thighs together while dirty fantasies run through your mind.

Determinedly, you set your sights on the first craving: a day of uninterrupted rest. 

As the world outside continues its bustling rhythm, you cocoon yourself in a cocoon of blankets, the soft embrace of your bed a sanctuary from the demands of the day. A season of your cherished TV show flickers on the screen before you, its familiar characters and storylines a comforting companion in this isolated respite. 

Yet, even the most captivating narrative can’t entirely distract from the persistent itch of restlessness. As episodes blur into one another, you find your mind wandering, the confinement of your surroundings reflecting the confines of your own body. 

The hours stretch, each minute an elastic band tugging at your patience.

The promise of comfort food beckons like a siren’s call, and soon, the aromatic allure of pizza fills the room. 

You indulge in its cheesy embrace, the combination of flavors a temporary reprieve from both your physical discomfort and the monotony of your confinement. The first bite is a symphony of sensations - crisp crust giving way to a burst of savory satisfaction, a moment of bliss that lingers on your taste buds. But even indulgence has its limits. 

As the pizza slices dwindle and the ice cream follows suit, the novelty wanes, leaving behind a subtle undertone of longing. You try navigating the vast expanse of social media, but it yields little in the way of fulfillment, each swipe a fleeting encounter with curated lives that only serve to amplify the quiet void within.

Your energy reserves are far too depleted to muster the focus required for anything more substantial.

In time, you discover yourself reclined upon the bed’s embrace, solitary in Jimin’s absence, your eyes are gently shut, a willing surrender to the world’s demands, while the low sensual R&B beats of your beloved ‘dirty hoe’ Spotify playlist weave a cocoon around your senses, cradling you in a symphony of horny melodies on an endless loop. 

You rub your thighs together and get lost in the bliss of the feeling. You’ve got nothing to do. Might as well do yourself.

Your fingers glaze the top of your panties, digging deeper until you reach the spot just over your clit. 

Rubbing circles on your clothed clit, you spread your legs and throw your head back into the bed, already feeling the beginning of an arousal. You can’t help the sweet noises that escape your mouth, as you roll your hips in search of more friction. 

You press harder on your clit, imagining it’s Jimin’s hands instead of yours, knowing that he would be able to make you climax in a matter of minutes. 

Pinching your clit, you let out a high pitched moan as you feel the knot in your stomach forming. 

Images of Jimin flash before your eyes, him kissing you deliciously, fucking you like it was the last time.

Beads of sweat gather along the precipice of your hairline, a glistening testament to the fevered symphony playing out within. 

Each breath you draw is a ragged melody, a reminder of the battle your body wages against the searing heat that courses through you. You set a fast pace, rubbing mindlessly, as you pant for air. 

Almost there, you can feel it coming. 

In frustration, you pinch your clit again and come undone with a scream of Jimin’s name. 

Your body thrashes around the bed, as you come down from your climax. 

Your thoughts wade through a dizzying haze, an intricate labyrinth where clarity is but a fleeting visitor. Meanwhile, your body becomes a canvas of discomfort, a sticky and clammy landscape painted by the relentless brushstrokes of sweat. 

You register an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, and discard your soaked panties to the floor.

Your body remains a furnace, its warmth radiating through every fiber as you continue to draw breath in ragged gasps. Seeking relief, you shift onto your stomach, a desperate attempt to find a position that might offer some respite. 

Your hand gropes beneath the pillow, finding the cool touch of your phone. Fingers trembling slightly, you navigate to Instagram in pursuit of distraction, a temporary escape from the confines of your condition.

Yet, the respite is fleeting, evaporating like mist in the face of a relentless sun. Your desires surge once more, a hunger that refuses to be quelled. The allure of the digital world fades in comparison to the voracious craving that commands your attention, rendering your attempts at diversion feeble and futile.

You surrender to the tempest within, rolling onto your back as your hands traverse the landscape of your fevered body, fingers tracing the contours of your clammy skin. 

They land on your already pebbled nipples, and you give them a hard tug, moaning and rolling your hips mindlessly. 

Jimin's cotton shirt adheres to your skin like a second layer, a tactile reminder of the stickiness that has become an unwelcome companion. 

With a sudden resolve, you sit up, a surge of urgency propelling you as you shed the shirt in a swift motion, the fabric slipping away like the bonds of discomfort being cast aside.

In a matter of seconds, your hands return to your breast, cupping them like Jimin usually does. 

Your fingers run over your nipples again, and you feel a tingle run down your spine. As you tug and pinch your nipples, you imagine it’s Jimin doing it. 

The way he would lick your perked buds, occasionally giving them a light bite has your walls clenching around nothing. 

You moan, thinking about the pleasure Jimin usually delivers to you with his plush and wet tongue. 

One of your hands leaves your breast to travel down to your throbbing naked pussy. 

Spreading your legs, you find your clit and give it a few rubs. 

Your fingers glide easily, as your clit is covered in your earlier orgasm. Your fingers travel down to your folds, opening yourself up more. 

Sticking one of your fingers into your warm cunt is easy with the insane amount of arousal pooled there. 

You groan in pleasure, as you stick another finger into your clenching hole. 

Rolling your hips, you begin to fuck yourself as your other hand is pinching and tugging a nipple. 

Once more, a hazy fog blankets your thoughts, veiling your mental landscape in a disorienting mist. 

In this moment, your deepest wish unfurls - a longing for Jimin’s presence, his soothing touch, the steady rhythm of his breath and the unfaltering warmth of his embrace to tether you amidst the turbulence of your body’s rebellion. 

The feeble attempt you make to alleviate your distress pales in comparison to the soothing magic that Jimin's touch possesses. It's a stark reminder of the chasm between your efforts and his unparalleled comfort. 

Nonetheless, in this interim of absence, your makeshift remedy will have to suffice, bridging the gap between your yearning for relief and the eventual embrace of his return.

You think about Jimin fucking you with his thick cock, stretching your pussy deliciously. 

Hitting your g-spot, and thrusting into you with fervor, while his balls hit your folds. The imagination, a force as potent as it is relentless, takes hold of you with unyielding fervor, reducing the barriers between reality and desire to mere dust. 

In its wake, you sense the foundations of your resolve begin to erode, like cliffs succumbing to the relentless assault of waves. 

Squelching sounds fill the room, as you finger yourself frantically, searching for another release. 

A palpable tension simmers, coiling like a slumbering tempest just beneath the fragile surface of your composure and when the image of Jimin fucking you gets too much, you moan loudly as another orgasm coats your walls. 

Your chest rises and falls in desperate rhythms, each breath a struggle as you labor to coax your body into a state of surrender.

A gnawing sense of insufficiency takes root, an undeniable truth that settles like an ache in the core of your being. 

Compelled to fill this void, you reach for your laptop, your fingers dancing across the keyboard to unearth a video - a cherished artifact of you and Jimin. 

As the footage unfolds before you, you stick your fingers into your already drenched pussy again. 

As the symphony of sounds spills forth, a captivating crescendo that weaves through the air, your gaze becomes ensnared by the screen's luminous embrace, you fuck yourself again, while you rub your clit with your other hand.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re so tight! You’re taking me so well.” Jimin's voice pours forth, a mellifluous cascade that saturates the room, its dulcet tones mingling with the very air you breathe, a sweet intoxication that leaves you hovering on the edge of delirium, rolling your eyes while you search for yet another release. 

You add another finger into your throbbing pussy as the screen shows Jimin fucking you from behind. 

A moan leaves your lips, mixing with squelching sounds from your pussy and the obscene sounds from the laptop.

“This pussy was made for me, ah.” video Jimin says followed with a slap to your ass. 

Your pussy clenches around your fingers. Your clit is throbbing with your fast rubbing on it and you insert another finger into your cunt, finally feeling a small stretch. 

You feel your orgasm approaching rapidly, with the images of your home made porn playing before your hooded eyes unraveling you.

“Fuck! I’m coming!” and then you’re orgasming to the sound and visual of Jimin releasing inside your warm and spent pussy. 

Your body throbs with a weary cadence, each pulse echoing the exhaustion that courses through you, leaving you feeling spent, both physically and emotionally. 

The discomfort intensifies, a relentless reminder of your sticky, sweat-slicked state that clings to you like an unwelcome second skin, refusing to relent. 

You draw in ragged breaths, your lungs yearning for air as you hastily halt the video's playback, the sudden cessation of sound echoing the turbulence within your chest.

Tired, you envelop yourself in the gentle glow of the screen, as you dive into another episode of your treasured TV series. You lay in your bed, naked, with only the covers draping your legs. 

The door’s soft creak heralds Jimin’s return, his presence a soothing balm to the quietude that has wrapped itself around you. 

As his eyes fall upon your prone form nestled within the sheets, his gaze deepens with understanding - silent communication that transcends words. 

Without a syllable spoken, he knows about your illness.

A gentle smile dances at the corners of his lips, a mixture of concern and affection that paints his features. His voice, warm and tender, breaks the silence, the words like a soft caress against your weary senses. 

“How many, baby?” 

The question hangs in the air, laden with a delicate balance of worry and steadfast promise that he’s here to shoulder the burden of your discomfort alongside you.

With the mere entrance of Jimin's presence, a subtle electric current courses down the length of your spine, a tingling sensation that dances between the realms of anticipation and recognition, as you rub your thighs together and bite your lip, “Three.”

A gentle chuckle escapes from his plush lips, a melodic sound that unfurls like a whisper of warmth, as he strides toward the bed and eases down beside you, his presence a soothing balm to your discomfort.

“You know it’s a vital part of my self-care ritual whenever fever pays me a visit,” you protest, your lips pursing in a playful pout that hints at a mixture of defiance and endearing vulnerability.

“Yeah, I know about your fever horniness,” his laughter erupts with a resonant force, a vibrant symphony that reverberates through his entire being, yet his approach is marked by a smirk that dances across his lips, an alluring blend of amusement and intention.

“What do you need, baby?” 

His finger traces a tantalizing path over the sensitive expanse of your ass and thighs, each touch akin to a lightning bolt of sensation that ignites a perilous shiver, sending a cascade of exhilaration down the length of your spine. In its wake, a fresh wave of desire surges, pooling on your pussy.

A gulp tightens your throat, a visible testament to the sudden intensity of the moment, while your breath catches in your chest, a gasp that hangs in the charged air like an unspoken invitation, “Your dick and your tongue.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” a playful smirk graces his lips, a mischievous expression that hints at a secret understanding, as his touch traces a tantalizing path along the contours of your waist as he feels his dick throb with want.

“You started without me,” he utters the words in a mock pout, his tone a blend of teasing and longing, as his fingers dip down to your pussy with deliberate intent, trailing a path that ignites a symphony of sensations. 

You raise your hips in search of more of his touch.

“I’m sorry. But I couldn’t wait…” A frustrated whimper escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the intensity of your desires and the ache for more. 

You just want to get off again.

“I know, baby. You probably did so good by yourself, huh?” 

His gaze drinks in the contours of your naked form, an appreciative hunger that's palpable, causing goosebumps to rise like a symphony across the landscape of your skin.

“Not as good as when you touch me. I need your touch, Jimin.” 

In a voice etched with ragged urgency, you plead, the words a raw testament to the overwhelming desire that courses through you, while your lustful eyes blink rapidly, revealing the depth of your need.

He seizes a generous handful of your ass, an electrifying touch that sends shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your being. In response, you groan, your very essence melting under the mastery of his hands, reduced to pliable putty that he molds with deliberate expertise.

You open your legs invitingly, showing him your glistening pussy, “Won’t you come taste me?”

A teasing flick of his tongue moistens his lips, a gesture loaded with an unspoken promise, as he inches closer to you, his presence a tantalizing magnetism that sends anticipation crackling through the air. 

His form hovers over yours, a suspended moment pregnant with the weight of desire and the thrill of what's to come.

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

In a voice dipped in seductive tones, he murmurs the words, a sultry invitation that hangs in the charged space between you, as he positions himself on his knees. 

The fabric of his shirt yields to his skilled fingers, sliding off his form in a fluid motion that reveals the sculpted contours of his body, each movement a declaration of intent. His bare chest emerges into view, an arresting sight that captures your gaze and holds it captive, a canvas painted with the contours of his sculpted form. 

Your eyes trace the lines of his delicious abs, his ‘Nevermind’ tattoo, a visual feast that leaves you with an insatiable hunger, and your fingers, guided by a magnetic pull, begin to explore his torso with a reverent touch.

He leans in with a calculated grace, his intent clear in the intensity of his gaze, as both of his hands find the curves of your breasts, his palms cupping them with a touch that conveys possession and longing. 

A moan of pleasure escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the exquisite sensation that courses through you, as his hands remain a source of warmth on your fevered form, a stark contrast that heightens the sensory journey. 

An involuntary surge of sensation propels your body, causing your back to arch with a fervent response, an unspoken invitation for more of his touch, as he begins to roll your nipples. 

He leans his head down, giving a nipple a quick lick before he captures it in his warm mouth. He sucks lightly at first, while he pinches your other nipple.

The melodic cadence of your sounds forms an intoxicating symphony, an improvised composition that resonates in the charged air, while a surge of arousal courses through you, electrifying your senses and heightening the fervor of the moment.

One of Jimin's hands embarks on an exploratory journey down the landscape of your body, a purposeful exploration that leads to your pussy, where his touch transforms into an unyielding grasp, squeezing your clit with a deliberate force that ignites a symphony of pleasure-pain.

You release a crescendo of uninhibited sounds, each one a testament to the exquisite sensitivity that courses through you, a maelstrom of sensations amplified by the presence of your already three orgasms.

His fingers, a skillful symphony of touch, bestow a few tantalizing rubs to your clit, a prelude to the main act that follows. 

With deliberate intent, he slides a finger into the depths of your wet pussy, each movement a rapturous dance that sends shockwaves of pleasure through your every nerve ending.

“So wet,” a chuckle, laced with both amusement and desire, escapes his lips, the room now painted with an intimate soundscape as the squelching echoes through the air. 

His single finger, a masterful conductor of sensations, explores the depths of your being, each thrust a declaration of intent that creates a symphony of pleasure only the two of you share.

He returns to his skilled ministrations sucking on one of your nipples, a sensation that unfurls like a velvet caress, while his other hand continues its purposeful exploration, working to fuck you open with a deliberate determination that merges pleasure with a heady sense of anticipation.

A surge of urgency courses through you, compelling your hips to roll with a fervent rhythm, an instinctive dance that strives to align with his thrust, seeking a nexus where desire and connection intertwine in a symphony of shared pleasure.

He skillfully introduces a second finger into the equation, his touch an intricate dance that navigates the canvas of your pussy with purposeful intent. 

His quest becomes a search for the elusive spot that ignites a cascade of sensations, a treasure trove of pleasure concealed within the intricate pathways of your body.

Your breaths escape in ragged bursts, a symphony of urgency that fills the air, each inhalation a desperate attempt to quench the growing fire within. 

As your chest heaves, you huff for air, the oxygen a lifeline that barely keeps pace with the tumultuous pace of your desires, all while a knot of anticipation tightens in the pit of your stomach, a tangible reminder of the impending climax.

A third finger joins the symphony of sensation, a deliberate intrusion that causes your pussy to clench around him, an involuntary reaction that amplifies the intensity of the moment. 

The palpable tightness he encounters tells him that you're teetering on the precipice of release, a knowledge that fuels his own desire.

With the dexterity born of desire, his free hand embarks on an exploratory journey, seeking out your other breast with a determined touch. 

His fingers dance with a skilled grace, deftly rolling its nipple, each movement a calculated rhythm that weaves an intoxicating tapestry of sensations, a tactile duet that resonates through your being.

“It’s so good, Jimin!” a gasp, unfiltered and primal, escapes your lips, the sound a testament to the exquisite pleasure that courses through you, as you endeavor to arch your back, an instinctual response that seeks to press your body into the electrifying path of his touch.

A low, reverberating hum escapes his lips, a resonant vibration that sends ripples of pleasure through your breast, the intimate connection between his mouth and your body forging a sensory bridge that defies words. 

Meanwhile, his fingers continue their masterful dance, striking your elusive spot with a relentless rhythm that sets your senses ablaze with each deliberate touch.

You feel it coursing through your body like a surge of electric intensity, each nerve ending awakening in a symphony of sensation. 

Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the overwhelming pleasure that radiates from within. 

Your hands seize Jimin's hips with a fervent grip, an anchor in the tempest of ecstasy as you succumb to the cascade of release, a moan escaping your lips like a melody, a reverberating chord that sounds eerily like his name.

You pant, your breath a delirious cadence that echoes the crescendo of sensations that have washed over you. 

Your body basks in the radiant afterglow of a fourth orgasm, a testament to the heights of pleasure scaled throughout the day, each peak and valley etched into your memory like an intricate map of desire.

Jimin's gaze rests upon you, his eyes hooded with a potent blend of desire and satisfaction, a witness to the tableau of your body's unraveling beneath the skilled ministrations of his hands and mouth. 

In this intimate exchange, unspoken understanding flows between you, a language woven from shared pleasure and the unbreakable bond you share. 

The depth of his affection knows no bounds, a love that transcends the ordinary and propels him to the edges of devotion. For you, he's willing to traverse any distance, cross any threshold, and brave any challenge. 

His heart beats in harmony with yours, a melody of adoration that echoes through the moments you share, an unwavering testament to the lengths he'll go to ensure your happiness and well-being.

He rises onto his knees with an irresistible allure, shedding the confines of his pants and boxers in a fluid motion that unveils his already hardened dick. 

The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere thickening as his form becomes a portrait of primal need and unabashed vulnerability.

Your tongue darts out, an instinctual gesture that moistens your lips in a silent anticipation that hangs in the charged space between you, a silent agreement forged by desire. 

“Gawd. It’s so beautiful.” 

You say, the words a sultry whisper that hangs in the air like a secret promise, a declaration of intent that sets the stage for what's to come. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around his cock with a teasing touch, each stroke a deliberate dance that fuels the fire of desire between you.

Jimin's chuckle, a featherlight sound that dances through the charged atmosphere, becomes an auditory caress that sends shivers down your spine. 

His form hovers over you, a poised predator basking in the thrill of the chase, the air practically crackling with the intensity of his presence.

"What do you crave now, baby?" he murmurs in a voice saturated with a potent blend of desire and longing, a low timbre that wraps around the words like a silken caress, igniting a spark of anticipation in the air.

“I want to be ravished,” your hips engage in a rhythmic dance, a deliberate movement that aligns with the symphony of sensations cascading through you, while the telltale sensation of sweat prickling down your forehead adds a tactile layer to the sensory landscape, a physical manifestation of the fevered desire coursing through your veins.

“I want to cream your dick,” you breathe, the exhalation a fragile bridge between reality and reverie, as the haze of desire blankets your thoughts in a seductive shroud. 

In response, a hiss escapes Jimin's lips, a sound that teeters on the edge of restraint, a symphony of shared yearning that hangs heavy in the charged air.

“I want you to come in my pussy.” You tease, the words a playful invitation that resonates with the promise of shared pleasure, your voice a delicate melody that dances through the charged atmosphere. 

Your hands find purchase on his thighs, fingers squeezing with an artful pressure that ignites a symphony of sensation, a tactile duet that harmonizes with the unspoken desires that course between you.

Jimin's hiss echoes once more, a sound that reverberates like a whispered plea amidst the charged tension, as if his very being is ensnared within a cloud of desire and longing. 

His dick, a pulsating ache that demands attention, throbs with an insistent rhythm, a relentless reminder of the friction and release that his body craves, a symphony of need that courses through his veins.

With a firm resolve that belies the intensity of his desire, he seizes his dick in a purposeful grip, aligning it with your pussy. 

The air seems to hold its breath, a suspended moment pregnant with anticipation, the magnetic pull between your bodies poised to culminate in an explosion of shared ecstasy.

Before he gives in to the tempest of desire that surges between you, a primal force that demands satisfaction, he seizes a pillow with a thoughtfulness that speaks volumes. 

With a gentle nudge, he situates it beneath your head, a gesture that adds a layer of comfort to the impending intimacy, a reminder that amidst the flames of passion, he's attuned to your every need.

Then, in a languid dance that seems to stretch time itself, he eases into you with a deliberate slowness, his cock head parting your folds in a teasing, torturous symphony of sensation. The exquisite friction becomes a dance of pleasure and anticipation, a measured cadence that ignites every nerve ending along the way, as he navigates the delicate balance between fervor and restraint.

His dick glides into you effortlessly, aided by the slickness that envelops him, a liquid promise of pleasure that makes every inch of his entry a journey of shared ecstasy. 

As he becomes one with you, your walls embrace him with a tantalizing grip, a response that reflects the profound connection between your bodies, a fusion of desire and intimacy that transcends mere physicality.

“Ah, you’re still so tight,” 

He releases a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, a sound that escapes in a mixture of relief and surrender, as he reaches the depths of your being, a tangible joining that renders him fully immersed in the euphoria of the moment.

You savor the overwhelming fullness that finally envelops you, a sensation that satiates the craving that has persisted throughout the day. 

It's the culmination of a desire that's been building, being filled to the brim with the thickness of Jimin's dick, a union that ignites a shiver coursing down your spine, electrifying every nerve ending. As the moment unfolds, he initiates a slow retreat, a movement that draws you both through a symphony of sensations, a dance that echoes the intimacy of your connection.

He surges forward once more, a determined movement that drives him to the very hilt, his relentless desire mirrored in each of his swift thrusts. 

With a masterful touch, he discovers your hidden spot in mere moments, a revelation that sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, the intensity of the sensation causing your vision to blur as the world momentarily fades, overtaken by the overwhelming cascade of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants, the rhythm of his breath a synchrony with the fervent pace at which he fucks you, his grip on your hips an anchor that thethers you to the reality of the moment. 

His dick plunges into you with an unyielding force, a declaration of possession that melds raw passion with an unspoken promise of unity. 

He artfully guides one of your legs up, positioning it against his torso in a deliberate display of intimacy, your foot finding purchase against his neck in a sensual image. 

With this angle, he plunges into you with a newfound depth, each thrust a revelation of pleasure that leaves you breathless, the arrangement of your bodies a testament to the choreography of desire that unfolds between you.

“Ah! Jimin!” you release a breathless moan, a symphony of pleasure and vulnerability that dances on the edge of bliss, a melody woven from the rawest depths of your desire.

“I’m so fucking close,” you pant with each measured breath, caught in the intoxicating rhythm of his thrusts, a symphony of desire that leaves you gasping for air between each electrifying connection.

One of his hands embarks on a deliberate exploration, seeking out your swollen clit with an intent that radiates through his touch. The glide of his thumb becomes a source of intoxicating sensation, igniting a cascade of pleasure that courses through your body.

“Ah!” a breathless cry escapes your lips, the sound a mixture of surprise and ecstasy as the sensations wash over you, while your body responds with an instinctual arch, a graceful curve that seeks to amplify the pleasure within the constraints of the position. 

“Fuck!” the word bursts forth, nearly a scream but instead a fervent exclamation, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you. 

Simultaneously, Jimin's fingers continue their skilled dance, maintaining a tantalizing rhythm on your clit, while his dick delivers deep and forceful thrusts that threaten to unravel your senses entirely. 

With a primal scream that carries his name on its wings, your release squirts forth in a torrent, an explosion of sensation that engulfs his dick and fingers. 

The world around you dissolves into a white-hot haze, your vision momentarily obliterated by the intensity of the moment, as you pant in a frantic rhythm, each breath a lifeline that stitches you back to the reality of the room. 

The culmination of pleasure leaves you suspended in a euphoric liminality, every nerve ending aflame with the afterglow of ecstasy.

“Fuck!” Jimin's hiss reverberates in the charged air, a testament to the exquisite sensation that courses through him as your walls clamp around him, an embrace so tight that it borders on suffocating intensity. 

As the waves of your orgasm surge through you, a tempest of sensation that engulfs your being, his thrusts mirror the tumultuous rhythm of your release. 

Each movement becomes a study in controlled chaos, his own desire reaching a crescendo as he hurtles towards his own climax. 

“Ah! I’m coming, babe!” he pants with a rhythm that mirrors the frenzy of his desire, each breath a tangible testament to the passion that courses through him. 

With a final, hard thrust, he stills within you, his essence flooding your depths in a torrent of warm cum that paints your walls with an intimate declaration of shared intimacy. 

He surges forward, a final thrust that extends the boundaries of pleasure, his movements a testament to his need to savor every last fragment of the climax he rides out. 

The rhythm becomes a reflection of his own ecstasy, each thrust a stroke of intimacy that weaves a tapestry of shared release between your bodies, a culmination that leaves you both suspended in the aftermath of pleasure.

Despite the sheen of sweat that adorns your skin and the fever that courses through your veins, an urgent need propels you to draw him close, your arms enveloping his form in an embrace that defies the constraints of physical discomfort. 

Your body radiates heat, a testament to the fever's grip, yet the desire to feel his heartbeat against your own is a force that eclipses all else. 

“It’s hardly fair,” you remark with a playful huff, a mixture of exasperation and laughter tingling your words, “that you’re not even breaking a sweat.” 

The words carry a lightness that dances amidst the weight of your fevered state, the exchange a testament to the shared intimacy that allows for such candid moments even in the midst of vulnerability.

“I guess I’ve got better stamina, sweetheart,” he chuckles, the sound a gentle ripple that lingers in the air, even as his dick goes soft within the warmth of your pussy. 

With a tenderness that belies the intensity that has passed between you, he seals the moment with a sweet kiss pressed to your lips, a lingering connection that speaks of the intimacy shared and the unbreakable bond that defines your connection.

A blend of his cum and your own arousal trickles from your heated core, a physical reminder of the fervent exchange that has unfolded between you. 

He withdraws from you completely, a deliberate movement that creates a sudden void, a palpable absence that contrasts with the intensity of moments prior. 

Slumping down beside you, his breaths come in ragged pants, each exhalation a testament to the exertion of shared pleasure. 

The space between your bodies becomes a canvas that captures the echoes of your intimate dance, an image of vulnerability and release that lingers in the air like a whisper.

A sense of emptiness washes over you, an aftermath of the profound connection that has left a void in its wake. Your lips form a subtle pout, a silent plea that rests in the curve of your expression, a wordless request for the closeness and intimacy that you yearn to preserve. 

“Oh, I know that look,” he chuckles softly, the sound a warm caress that mingles with the air, as his hand sweeps through his blond hair. 

The knowing amusement in his eyes speaks of an unspoken understanding between you, a connection forged through countless shared moments, a familiarity that transcends words.

Beside him, you shift restlessly, a subtle squirm that speaks volumes about the growing hunger within you. 

Your thighs press together with a desperate urgency, a physical manifestation of the insatiable desire that has rekindled within your core. 

The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere electrified by the magnetic pull between your bodies, a force that threatens to engulf you both once again in the flames of shared longing.

“Just give me an hour or two, then we can go again,” he chuckles softly, the sound a tender reassurance that carries within it a promise of more to come. 

His lips nuzzle against the delicate curve of your neck, a gesture that's both affectionate and possessive, the fervor of his kisses an echo of the passion that simmers between you. The intensity of his touch leaves a mark, a phantom sensation that lingers even after his lips have moved away, a tangible reminder of the connection that binds you together.

→ Author’s note: I get incredibly horny when I have a fever, so this idea popped into my head 😇 My husband calls it “fever horny” 🤣 I’m so sorry, am I the only who’s like this? 🫢

[aetherdoesthings]

my little brat~ (MINORS DNI!!!) [REUPLOAD]

forethoughts: 100th post on the blog is smut. hehe. i know i said i wouldn't write page long smut but as i was writing this i may have crossed the page limit. oopsies. the grip robin has on me 😔

notes: fem!reader, BDSM themed, dom!robin, sub!reader, light bondage, robin calling reader a brat

word count: 1.8k (i too am shocked by this number)

[this is a reupload because problem happened]

“You couldn’t just get yourself out of trouble, can you?” Robin let out a sigh, circling around the bed, her eyes glued to the sight in front of her. 

“Mmmmmnn…” You moaned, moving your head to the direction of her voice, breathing through the ball gag that occupied your mouth. Because of a small stunt you had pulled earlier in the day, one that involved you nearly falling off the Sunny, Robin was furious at you. She didn’t express her feelings yet, until night came. You were kneeling on the king sized bed, knees nearly touching the edge of the bed. Your calves were bound to your thighs with silk ropes, arms tied behind your back. You knew Robin was mad at you; you knew why she was mad at you. But your situation now was starting to make the idea of pissing your girlfriend off seem delightful. 

You bucked your hips forward to no avail, a pathetic whine leaving your mouth as Robin sneered at you. There was nothing close enough to you to give you the pleasure you so desperately craved, except for the bedsheets underneath you. 

A whine was ripped out of your throat as Robin’s hand curled around your neck, squeezing the sides with enough pressure to let you know that she wasn’t fucking around, but not enough pressure to actually do damage to your jugular veins. 

“Does my brat think she can get pleasure?” Robin scoffed, forcing you to look her in the eyes. “It seems I have been too lenient with you. Well then. All the more reason to teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” 

Robin unbuckled the gag around your mouth, letting the drool roll down your face. The babydoll she wore found its way on the ground next to your mountain of clothes, as she sat juxtaposed to you. While you knelt with the muscles in your thigh screaming for mercy, Robin leaned back like a queen on a throne, spreading her legs. 

With the nod of her head, you bent down, knees still spread apart. You dove head first into what you could only call perfection.

Everything about Nico Robin was perfect. Personality, looks, whatever it was it was pure perfection in your infatuated eyes. You could never fathom the idea of people calling her the ‘Devil Child’, when all you saw was an angel from heaven. But God, if Robin’s pussy isn't the prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen. 

With only your mouth at disposal, you take a deep breath, before licking a long strip across Robin’s slit.

Despite Robin’s stoic expression, her body filled in that empty space. Her hand went to your head, cutting off any potential air to your nose. You didn’t mind. You would die a very happy soul if you were to die in between Robin’s legs. Grunts of pleasure and chuckles could be heard, which only spurred you further on. Your tongue flicked back and forth over her clit, before alternating to a languid circle around as you flattened your tongue against the hardened nub. Oh, how you wished to see Robin’s expression to you and your tongue dipped between her puffy folds, gathering her slick before greedily swallowing it down. 

“Hah… at least there’s one good thing that comes out of your mouth, you little brat.” Robin snickered, still in that domme headspace she always loved to be in whenever you would be on your knees servicing your mistress.

“Mmmmnn…” You whined in response, getting back to work. You knew you were doing a damn good job when Robin’s legs were thrown across your shoulders, locking your head in between her trembling thighs. By the way you could start to feel your heartbeat in your head, it was a matter of time before you’d pass out from the sheer lack of oxygen. But not before you made your mistress come. You wanted to make a mess of Robin, wanted to drown in her heavenly juices and feel the pride of making your mistress come undone with just your organ. Your tongue traced over every little fold of her lips, mouth wrapping over her clit and sucking until a sharp gasp exited Robin’s mouth, but the iron grip around your head did not falter. You continued to do little kitten licks over her pussy, letting her ride out her high on your face, rubbing that sweet juice all over. Your eyes looked up at your mistress, a sense of pleasure and pride swirling around in your stomach when you saw her face. As her eyes met yours, you blinked twice, and she immediately removed her legs from your shoulders, letting you sit up as oxygen finally entered your body. 

Instantly, you could feel the lower half of your face wet and messy with slick and saliva; being buried in between your mistress’ warmth suppressed the gross and wet feeling. Even if you could, you resisted the urge to wipe it away, because the hungry and pleased look on Robin’s face was all the confirmation and assurance you needed.

Robin sat on her knees, a pleased smile on her face as she scooped your face. A contrast to her attitude prior, she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a kiss on your lips, still covered in her slick.

“Color?” Robin asked, as she ran her fingers through your hair.

“G-Green.” You responded. A system Robin had set up before you even had your first session with her, in order to help her know if she was actually hurting you or not, and for you to express your feelings and needs during a session. 

Robin chuckled, kissing your forehead. “My little brat. Are the binds too tight?”

“No. I’m okay.”

Robin nodded her head, satisfied with your answer. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet. Turn around, head on the pillow, ass up.”

You did what she said, as you watched Robin get off the bed, strolling over to that drawer, conjuring her favorite strap and the largest dildo you owned, spreading a healthy amount of lube over the purple silicon, as she made her way back to you.

“So that’s what it takes for you to listen, huh? A pussy in your face and a cock in your cunt?” Robin sneered, as her hand made contact with your ass, a loud smack echoing the room. You whined in response, tilting your head sideways so you could breathe. Her left hand held your bound arms, while her right lined up the tip to your glistening and drenched folds. Your pussy squeezed against the unyielding silicon dildo. It's big, and you want it.

Robin’s voice took on a more serious tone as she created a dip in the mattress. “Safeword?”

“Bumblebee.” You respond, bracing yourself for the moment. But it never comes. You look at Robin--a bold choice to make while she was in this headspace. 

“Go on. Say it.” Robin stared back at you. You let out a whine, resisting the urge to move your hips backwards, knowing that would land you in hotter waters. It made it worse that you knew what she wanted to hear out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled, letting out a frustrated whine. You were only met back with another spank, one that would definitely leave a mark on your rear for a while.

“What are you sorry for?” Robin mused, her hand ghosting the skin of your other cheek. 

“I’m sorry… for almost falling into the ocean.”

“Why are you sorry for that?”

“Because I almost died trying to get my book from the crow’s nest when I could’ve just asked you for help.” You felt like a kid again, being scolded for doing something bad and now have to apologize for it. But instead of your apology being ignored and unheard, Robin let out a pleased chuckle, leaning over to kiss your cheek, and without warning, she pushed it in. 

Robin never liked being mean to you; she was the type to pepper you and treat you like a princess, even though you would be on your knees, hands tied behind your back as her hand raked through your hair.

“Good girl.” Robin muttered, the sounds of your moans and yelps making her move faster. Thank God Franky had soundproof your room weeks ago, otherwise your moans alone would have woken everyone up. The pressure of the dildo's fat head is incredible; you could feel the way your pussy willingly gives way to the unyielding silicon, and it reminded you of the first time you had ever met the end of a strap-on Robin wore. Robin was unyielding, not breaking a single sweat, while you were a moaning and babbling mess, head buried in the pillow, unable to move. All you could focus on was your pussy getting stretched by every thrust Robin made, hollowing you out before filling you again, and again, and again. Every drag of the silicon cock inside of you made you a liquid mess perfect for Robin to mold and restructure, as her skin slapped against your thighs, lighting a spark behind your half lidded eyes everytime you could hear a slap.

It didn’t take long for Robin to bring you over the edge, giving you a ‘go ahead’ as pleasure fills your body. If Robin wasn’t holding you up by your arms, you would’ve collapsed and probably passed out from the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a pathetic whine as Robin carefully pulls out of you, creating several hands to undo the strap-on and grab a towel from the drawers.

Robin undid your binds, rubbing small circles on your wrist as she pulled your body into a sitting position, letting you lean against her for support. She wiped away any remaining slick or saliva from your face with a thumb, before shoving it into your mouth. You happily swallowed it all, before melting into Robin’s touch. She wrapped you with a towel, cradling you like you were an infant.

“Did so good for me, my little brat.” Robin cooed, planting soft kisses all over your face. “All it took was a cock in your cunt to get you to apologize.”

“I‘m sorry…” You mumbled.

“Shh.. shh… none of that, darling.” Robin kissed your forehead. “Just remember you can always ask for my help, no matter what. And if you forget, I’ll always be there to remind you, no matter how hard you need me to drill it into you. Figuratively and literally. How about I draw you a nice warm bath, and have Sanji cook you your favorite snack, and we can cuddle as I read you a story?”

A sleepy smile formed on your face as you nodded your head, pressing your lips against Robin’s collarbone. 

[tryan-a-bex]

100 fics

Today I posted my 100th fic on Ao3!

My first was Pottery; or Function, Purpose and Heart on Mar 11, 2023. It was a retired Dreamling fic with Destruction (who I call Joe) as the main character.

I moved fairly quickly into my Spy x Family crossover series. Anya is so cute, and throwing her in with Dreamling and the Endless family led to a lot of fun shenanigans! (Generally you don't need to know Spy x Family canon to follow these.)

Next I started on my Sandman x Scooby Doo shenanigans! I really like the Scooby Gang, and there are definitely some mysteries to solve surrounding the Endless! (With awesome art by @sab-draws!)

Gaulcienne caught my eye next. Lucienne, my beloved librarian, and the shape-changing dream-fairy? Oh yes! A Quiet Love with Wings has most of my commissioned art, with pieces by @athymelyreply for Sometimes when You Fall, You Fly, @ibrithir-was-here for Fireflies and a Missing Person, and @designtheendless for The Dragon Rider!

King of Night and Prince of Day, for @nathanwonderwolf's wonderful art, has the second highest kudos of all my fics.

Then I invented an OC who is the preteen personification of the consciousness of humanity, aka Social Media. I thought this was pure crack but people liked it and now it's a series! Dinner and Play was created with @carnelianmeluha's food ideas in mind!

My Dreamling works tend to be short and sweet, often prompted by something on tumblr or discord, and are collected as Dreamling vignettes.

I have recently written (but not yet posted) my first honest to god smut, but early dabbles in the craft were mostly crack, like my Helm Fucking Crack series. I'm unreasonably proud of how cracked it is, and thank everyone who enabled me (notably @sleepsonfutons, @windsweptinred, @tickldpnk8, @zzoomacroom, read their fics!).

My obsession with Fuckboi Dream (mind the tags) is ongoing, and included creating a chapter index with notes so I can find things, a series about Murphy's childhood (somebody please read these, they are so cute), and others, fanart as well!

In The Dragon's Tongue, Lucienne takes on Titania! I commissioned @lostelfwriting to write the bdsm continuation of the scene, and she did a fantastic job!

A Reunion in the Dreaming (picnic recreated here) was the first fic in Walking with the Walkers, my series about Rose, Jed and Unity. It features Rose and Ara (Barbie transformed in Life is but a Dream), Rose and Jed meeting their Endless family members, Jed and Gault having adventures, and Unity throwing family parties in the Dreaming (with art by @ilya-halfelven).

Trials of a Shapeshifter in Love (in which Gault tries to surprise Lucienne with a romantic dinner) was my favourite fic from October 2023 -- Femslash weekend (by @sandmanfemslashfans ) and Monsterfucktober (by @seiya-starsniper and friends) made it a really fun month! I also wrote Chantal and Zelda, Johanna and Death, and zombie Lyta (my most angsty fic, I believe).

Just Get Me Off the Damn Mountain was written for designtheendless' contest and omg, I won! It is my most popular fic, at 185 kudos!

I also wrote an OG story for NaNoWriMo! At 23k, Wander Witch is by far my longest story (the next longest is under 9k).

After a bit of being stuck, I got started again by writing continuations of @gabessquishytum's asks! Thank you to Gabe and to all the anons and contributors who allowed me to post their parts of the story!

Asmi, @weirdly-specific-but-ok, argued that he does not have a fandom, so (with permission) I proved him wrong by writing fanfic where he meets Crowley and the Maggot Fam. I love you, Asmi and the maggots!

Heading on an Adventure, the story of Rose and Orpheus' road trip, led to a series of library adventures for Lucienne (often featuring Meowpheus), starting with The Library Cat and continuing in the Lucienne my Beloved series.

I wanted more Lucienne and Walkers content, so I started a side blog, @lucienne-my-beloved, and am open to prompts there! On ao3, the series is called ficlets for lucienne.

Hob Meets the Doctor June 7, 2389 and The line I will not cross and the line I will (Gaulcienne) are my space fics, and I am unreasonably happy about them!

I'm now writing for @augustwritingchallenge! (They got me over 100 in my wips a week or two ago!) I combined prompts so you'll see a fic every 2-5 days in various series and fandoms, including Good Omens (Aug 30) and Dead Boy Detectives (soon).

And my 100th fic! Why are you whispering? a Jed and Rose fic for the late night call prompts. Woohoo!

Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my fandom journey! I'm the least depressed one in my long covid cohort, due to your support and friendship! I cherish every kudo and comment and bookmark and reblog, and the art and fics you all create as well!

[iloveundertaesooomuch]

Some advice from AU Calebs!

Heck yeah I did it! Finally i finished ONE of the HUNDREDS AU crossover ideas I have in my head!! Crossovers are fun guys!! (I apologise for a bad english in advance. Writing this it a rush.)

"It's ok to ask for help." (A Reverse Of Feathers And Mud by @jess-the-vampire)

I couldn't make a crossover meme without the legend. Sorry, not sorry. He is such a sad lad but tries to stay positive and be happy for his family uydfykudsutsudskudsluds (*dies*). I have to admitt, Caleb's dad energy is too strong for me to handle without wanting a hug him. No wonder! He was THE grandpa for centuries straight without a break. At least Caleb gets his whole family together in the end. Comics with him and either Hunter and Philip or Luz and Eda make me run in cirles around the room aaaa.

"You are not a burden." (Brother's Keeper by @idoodlestuffsometimes)

Damn, you definetly created one of the darkest AU in the fandom. Each time I re-read AU related posts I scream my lungs out because it is so angsty and so great. I am genuinely scared of your Belos ngl, because.. this man didnt loose anything and he still proceeds to do all that stuff. Enconter with him has 0 survival rate.

POOR CALEB! At least in the world of memes he had an opportunity to flee the captivity twice (the bald head and the car). This man had no moment of mental rest for centuries oh my God. One of my friends wants to fight his brother personally to protec Caleb at all cost sksksk. Well, at least Hunter will always have an actually loving relative! And if the happy ending is going to be canon, I think the future looks great, especially knowing how much pain all your characters go through currently. (And I think both Caleb and Hunter would need the "you are not a burdain" affirmations. At least some form of support in their situation.)

You said in the latest ask-answer that BK!Caleb was supposed to have white streaks in his hair so I attempted to add them. Hope they look fine! Colors for the outfit I got from Belos, so they would match, I guess???

"Murder is okay." (Loose Strings by @oldmanpip)

My bro, brother, friend... Despite you being not to involved on the discord server, my brain is still rotting with your great awesome AUs. And I know you know that. Your Caleb is really loose in all sences of that word and I love that. Wonder if your AUs will ever be available to the public. Because oh boy oh boy they deserve to be recognised. (Loose Caleb is such a conservative grandpa who never did anything wrong, wdym?)

"Your feelings matter." (Pip In Time by @celestialscribbler)

Honestly? Man, your comic is the reason I got invested in Witteclaw couple at all. Even if the "Pip in time" is not their story, but you wrote their teen romance so sweetly. Those two melted my heart... I scream each time I re-read your comic for 100th time. Just WOAH my brain goes brrr! And Caleb as a character is also written really really well. I love him so much. He is such good brother but MAN HE NEEDS A BREAK FROM BEING AN ADULT! BOY! Insirt crying and heart emojis here.

(PS: hope you still care about your health!)

My thoughts:

I have been drawing this for more than a month I think? And the only reason for that is my university. I hope to actually get an ADHD diagnosis because something is clearly wrong with me. But thats not the point.

There are so many ideas in my head. Goofy and not. The only problem is that I have less and less ability to do what I want lately. I wish I could bring them all to life, but at the same I dont know if anyone will be interested. Would AU crossovers look too self-indulgent? Or nah? Idk. (Just Grimwalker-Isle already has so much potential for stupid ridiculous fun I am runnin on coffee juice.)

Litteraly my mind is plagued with different fun plots and possibilities I am going crazy. But I also have A TON of WIPs that I need to finish. Perhaps I will attempt to manage everything at once, but, no promises.

Wish me luck on my exams!

[aniraklova]

Let me tell you what in another 100th time WE LACK THEMED CC, where are my rusty fierce designed post apocalyptic wastelandish custom damn content? Always doing everything myself the heeeell.

[mercurygray]

The Unquiet Tide

I am happy to report that - after a little bit of work - most of my MOTA OC work is now up and available for your reading, commenting and subscribing pleasure on AO3.

Since Masters of the Air lends itself to a more episodic approach, each of these stories will take place as a series of short format pieces posted more or less in chronological order. Much of the work is being driven by prompts from readers like you! I will still be posting updates here on tumblr, but will probably be linking directly to the full text on AO3.

The three fics are collected in The Unquiet Tide, so if you're on AO3 and would like to subscribe to collection updates for easy notifications, you can now do that!

Pavilioned In The Fields - Cordelia Callaway (John Egan x OFC)

Cordelia Callaway knows planes - she grew up building them and watching them be flown, and there is no one better in the entire Army Air Forces for keeping a level head while one of them comes in for a landing in flames. If the only way she can contribute to the war is making sure all these man land safely, then there's no one else you'd want in your control tower, because she doesn't do things by halves, either. Unfortunately, that also means holding grudges - and if you're the 100th's executive officer, that means you might be in for a very, very long war.

Your Best Girl - Fred Torvaldsen (John Brady x OFC)

Someone said this war would come with donuts, and Freda Torvaldsen is here to make sure they’re right. As a somewhat new replacement for the Red Cross Clubmobile team at Thorpe Abbotts, Freda - or Fred, as she's usually called - is still learning everyone’s name (and everyone is still learning hers!) but she’s confident with time that she’ll fit right in - and a certain clarinet-playing captain is hoping she fits right in with him.

Seek To Hold The Wind - Marion Brennan (Neil Harding x OFC)

It is one thing for the Army Air Forces to send planes out, and quite another to bring them back home. Someone must be there at the end, to gather all the pieces up to make sure what has just happened makes sense. That's Marion Brennan's job, and she's damn good at it - a life spent in the Army will do that to a woman. She's also here to do it without distractions - though a certain former football coach and commanding officer is making that rather difficult.

[ewesless]

Gacha

They do this to me every time.

Tumblr destroyed my post three times and the internet crashed while the gacha video was still loading so I missed it.

Today has been foul.

He came home on the 100th summon... On the bright side I need less jokers now.

He was nicer in Obey Me (in many ways. Why is he STILL BEING MEAN TO SOLOMON AFTER LESSON 40?)

(I had half as many vouchers on OM than NB too. I SAVED LIKE MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. IT DOES. THIS BASTARD TAKES ME TO THE CLEANERS EVERY. DAMN. TIME.)

Why doesn't Barbatos love me like you, Peepaw?

[skyloftian-nutcase]

So we talk about the linked universe boys a lot but we never see anything on the princesses. Like... where's the headcanons on them?

I wanna see Lullaby sneaking off as Shiek to hunt monsters with Time when court life becomes too much and complaining to Malon about the stupidity of the other nobles and how they fuck things over for everyone else but she can't just smack them over the head or overrule their policies because then she'd become a "tyranny" if she did that.

I wanna see Fable being an absolute menace to her Knights as payback for how they treat her brother but nobody believes then because she's a perfect angel for everyone else and she and Holda working together to study magic and learning to defend themselves so that Legend doesn't have to save them for what seems like the 100th time.

Sun using her memories as Hylia to be a cryptic little shit just for the funsies and kicking everyone's ass in spars because she's a knight too and a damn good one at that!

Flora and Purah are researching buddies and absolutely asking like a billion questions about everyone's timeliness and Symin having to drag the both of them by the scruff of their shirts out of the lab or back from the wilderness

Dusk having holidays in Ordon and Kakariko for similar reasons and practicing her archery, not quite going rogue but working alongside the Resistance to pick up her own soldier's slack.

Artemis just kicking ass and taking names as she continuously works to weed out the corruption that was brought to light by Cia's invasion.

Aurora and Dawn being sisters and helping each others trauma while trying to rebuild the kingdom's history and army so Hyrule doesn't have to work so hard.

Tetra being the badass pirate queen she is and also being a terrible influence on Aryll as a surrogate big sister so she can gleefully hold the fact over Wind's head, who is upset because HE wanted to be the one to teach Aryll how to swear!

I love all of these so much, especially the girls I'm familiar with. The idea of Lullaby sneaking out and fighting alongside Time while also chilling at the ranch and having girl time with Malon is amazing. I always adore seeing Sun get to, well, shine and show that she too is a knight - and that she fought in a war as Hylia! No one remembers Hylia fought in a war to save everyone before she ever asked for help from a hero!

All of this is delightful. <3 When I have more brain cells to spare I will make some fun ideas of my own.

This ask does remind me that I need to make a post about the Zelda personalities, though, so thank you for that too!

[spreeapi]

raison d'etre

Summary:

Kyle finally coming home after a month long mission.

(this was my first thing i ever wrote so be warned)

also posted in ao3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/50044444

This is shit. Kyle has been off on a mission for a month now, and his scent has worn off from my favourite rite hoodies of his.

I know he’s coming back soon, hopefully tomorrow morning. But with his job, you never know what could happen. Its always scary when he leaves for another mission, not knowing any intel of what’s happening in the field, or the fact that is he even alive. I decide to take a cold shower, to clean myself, but to mostly clean my thoughts from his work and go to bed.

I wake up at 4am the next morning, just because, I want to be awake when he comes. So i put some popcorn in the microwave, wait until their done and sit down in the living room, putting on my favorite show probably for the 10th time. I take a soft blanket and lay on the couch, i stare at the ceiling, letting my mind wander off.

~~~

This is shit. Kyle thinks to himself, not the fact that he’s finally driving home but the fact that his entire body feels like its a tight knot. The only good thing in his mind right now being that he is going to see you, smell your scent, feel your body underneath him, touch every part of you…he looks down for a second before lightly swearing, his pants feeling a bit more tight than before.

Finally arriving at his home, he quickly takes the duffle bag from his backseat and basically speed walking to the door, fishing out his keys from his pocket at the same time.

When the door opens the house the first thing he can hear is that your in the living room, well at least the TV is on in the living room. He drops the bag, taking his hat and jacket off and walking into the room. That’s where he finds you, on the couch, a bag of popcorn on the coffee table but when he gets to the other side of the couch, he can see you slightly snoring and definitely asleep. A small smile finding his face.

He drops down on his knees in front of the couch, brushing out a few stray hairs from your face. “Someone fell asleep” he whispers smiling, knowing damn well there was nobody to hear him.

As if you could sense him being there, he sees you stir awake.

~~

My eyes open to find the love of my life in front of me, on his knees might i add. And i think its the best sight to ever wake up to.

A sleepy smile on my face, eyes still half open “Your home” I whisper, as if its some kind of secret. “I am” he whispers back, and kisses my forehead. My eyes open up a bit more as i pout, signalling for him to kiss my lips. A small chuckle leaving him before pressing a soft kiss on my lips, hands coming to cradle my face. After we pull away and i pull him to the couch with me, now both of us laying on our sides. “I missed you” i say, taking in his beautiful eyes for probably the 100th time in my life. “I missed you more” he says, i shake my head, a small hum of disagreement coming out of my mouth before closing my eyes again. “You tired? Lets go to bed, ok?” He doesn’t give me anytime to respond as I can feel a shift on the couch when he gets up before picking me up, walking us to the bedroom.

He places me on the bed and goes to take a shower, if I didn’t take a shower last night I would have joined him. But honestly I’m just too tired to leave bed, crawling under the covers. I can hear shuffling beside me, for my delight, Kyle is finally done with his shower and is joining me in bed. I press light kisses all over his face, too tired to speak, but wanting to show appreciation of him. He pulls me to his chest my face resting on it, listening to his calm heartbeat. I can feel myself drifting off again, but before i do a small “i love you” leaving my lips. i hear a faint “i love you too” in response and a small kiss on the top off my head.