#this is so. gimme it

[hungharrington]

you already know i’m way too soft… so i give you: [ CLOSE ]  sender wrapping their arms around receiver who is on top after they’ve finished,  holding them close against their chest with their face hidden in their neck while they recover. 

special bonus if you somehow can make this the softest thing ever (the reward is a fat kiss)

you know what auttie u were the only one who picked this one but bcos it's you, imma do it anyways <3 MDNI this entire blog is 18+

One thing you can't say about Steve Harrington is that he is not a determined person.

Other people might use the word competitive but you know better; within him is burning determination that drives him to do better in everything he does. Loving you is one of those things. Loving you in bed... is another.

You're particular. You used to hate it — that you like this but not that, but you like this sometimes and that if you do it a certain way. It feels overly picky and for a long time, before you had Steve, you weren't sure if you allowed to be that picky.

But Steve meets your particularness head on.

So, if it means you need a little longer to cum? Well, it's simply of a challenge of stamina and working a little harder for it. Steve always rises to the challenge.

Tonight, you're wound extra tight— frustrated that it's taking you so long to get near your peak even with Steve doing all the right things. But he's more than pleased with letting you take what you need, giving breathy little groans just at the sight before him.

He's beneath you, one hand helping your hips rock forward and back, his throbbing cock buried deep in your wet cunt. You've been at it awhile, a slow ride on his cock, bringing both of you closer and closer— but Steve's focus is all on you.

"Fuck, you're so—" His words get swallowed up in his moan as you rise up on your thighs an inch and drop back down, the roll of his hips still so gentle. The sex is never too rough when you're on top. Steve doesn't care in the least, he likes it, he loves it. Adores when it's soft and slow and you take what you need from him.

"Oh f-fuck, honey," He whines, his hips bucking up and pressing his cock up into you. A flame of white hot pleasure licks up your spine as Steve's fucked out rambling continues. "So pretty—y'so fucking gorgeous."

It's a time where you have no choice to believe him completely — with the reverent expression on his face, flushed cheeks and cherry red lips, gazing up at you atop him like you're everything. The knot in your tummy burns hotter. A desperate whimper tumbles out your throat and your hips move a little faster.

"You getting close? Y'need my help, mm?" He asks. Normally, there would be that slight condescending lilt that makes you gush but tonight, it's just love. You nod, whimpering again as you do. You're close, so close— but not close enough.

"Yes," you gasp. "Please, Steve- more, I need— can you—"

"Hey, sh sh," Steve shushes you, hearing how you're getting worked up just trying to ask him for more. His hand slides from your hip across your belly, palm flat and warm, til his thumb finds your clit. He rubs fast circles, just the way you've taught him you like, and he's rewarded with a long whiney moan. "There we go, that's what you need, yeah?"

You're nodding, chest beginning to heave as the edges of your orgasm trickle in. Your hips move desperately, fucking yourself on his cock as his thumb gives the extra stimulation on your clit you need.

"S-Steve," you pant, a whimpery warning. "Steve, fuck, I'm— you're gonna make me cum, you're gonna—"

You cut yourself off with a loud whine, all high pitched and breathy, as your orgasm finally washes over you. You flutter around his cock and feel the grip of his hands tighten, Steve's own orgasm tipping over after holding off for so long. You can't help how your buckle, leaning forward and onto Steve's chest as you quiver and moan— Steve dutifully milking it as he fucks the both of you through your highs.

It's delirium, it's overwhelming, it's so much — you cum hard enough to see stars and bury your face away in his neck, safe to ride out the waves. You're still panting, cunt still clenching around him and Steve's hands move, dragging up your sides so he can wrap his arms around you in a big hug. One of his big hands strokes down your spine soothingly, his own heavy breathes beginning to slow.

"That was a big one, hm?" He murmurs, soft and low. You can see feel him throbbing inside you, can still feel bursts of pleasure making your thighs tremble. "Mm, I know it was, I know. You did so good, baby, so good."

You try to speak but another muffled pitiful noise escapes you instead and Steve's arms tighten their hug; his hands stroke over your hair this time, fingers drifting through to scrape at your scalp softly.

"Did so good f'me," He continues, finally feeling your body start to relax against him, recovering slowly from the intense high. Faintly, he can feel you press a kiss to his neck and it makes him smile. "So, so good. I love you, y'know?"

"I know," you manage to speak, words muffled against his skin. "I love you too."

Steve's smile transforms to a blinding grin, even though you can't see it — you swear his chest glows a little bit hotter beneath you. You kiss his neck again. God, he loves you well. You should move probably now that you've caught your breath— the sweat is beginning to cool.

One more minute, you think, happier than ever just where you are.

[pissmamiii]

i would like for someone to turn my brain off by fucking me stupid and loving me extra after

[triona-tribblescore]

Sometimes I forget im allowed to draw him going a lil crazy 😌✨

[aliferousdreamer]

Sevika & Jinx teaming up in Arcane 2x02 "Watch It All Burn" 🥊💥

[shouyuus]

18+, pitfighter!vi brainrot, bc its girl-dinner time tw: sorta smut, sorta obsessive!vi, codependent relationship, not quite yandere but the vibes r kinda there, but still fluffy bc im me duh

pitfighter!vi who fucks you like she's trying to leave a part of herself inside you, who holds you so hard that the next morning, you wake up to the blue-tinted ghosts of her fingers along your hips and thighs, the dull blossoming bruises littering your neck and shoulders, rings in the shape of her teeth like strange, demented flowers (or perhaps like footprints) the way they trail along your skin, inked there for all to see.

pitfighter!vi who fights like she's trying to break everyone else in the same way she wishes she were broken herself, all fevered, focused rage, and none of the restraint. no patience, only the blunted sting of a punch well-aimed, an elbow to the ribs, a knee to the groin, spit trailing out the edge of her mouth, a grin crooked and bloody hinged between her lips bc she knows when she looks up and scans the crowd, she'll inevitably find you there, watching her with your wide, alluring eyes.

pitfighter!vi who thinks she knows the depths and widths of hunger, has seen and felt it all, growing up in the lanes, and there are so many different kinds, aren't there? the kind that aches dull and deep in the stomach, the kind that claws and roars open in her chest, the kind that tingles like spider-poison all along the length of her spine. still, she's never quite felt a hunger like this -- the kind that threatens to consume her from the inside out the first time she sees you, and at first, it might've been a wholly vindictive thing -- perhaps its because there'd been something in the shadow of your smile that reminds her of -- well, it doesn't matter.

but the first time she kisses you (in the crush of bodies on a crowded dance floor, the music too loud, the bottom of her boots tacky with spilled drinks and blood and whatever else), you'd run your thumb along the line of her jaw so gently, traced the lines of her face with a touch so soft it ran a fissure through her car-alarm heart, and when she'd pulled away, you'd smiled as if she'd given you something other than just the jagged, broken bits of herself.

later, you'd told her that you still appreciated it then. bc it looked like that was all she could afford to give; and she gave it to you anyway.

pitfighter!vi who does not think she will ever get enough of you, and still, the more she gets, the more you give, the deeper the hunger grows. it yawns open inside her, huge and dark and cavernous, carving into her the more that it's fed, and by the gods do you feed it -- the way your head tilts back to allow her access to the smooth expanses of your throat, the darling, moon-lit landscape of your bare chest and shoulders, the way you're so pliant beneath her, your trust pouring from you like drink. and she drinks. and drinks. and drinks.

drinks till she's head-dizzy and heart-full. drinks till her vision blurs but for the sight of you, the shape of you so familiar to her waking moments it does not shock her in the least the first time she wakes up in the morning to the after-images of you in her dreams.

pitfighter!vi who, for the first time in her life thought she had lost all direction, but now -- she feels like at least there's still someone worth protecting, worth fighting for. and she knows, she knows it's not entirely healthy, how much and how hard she falls for you, knows that perhaps it is not the best thing for a woman like her to make someone like you the still-point of her turning universe, you, who manages to shine despite the grime that collects in the city around you. you, who is softness made into an act of defiance, who, one night, curled against her side, told her that there's a certain vindication to smiling in the face of a world who would love nothing more than to rip the joy, bleeding and raw from your throat.

"it's not always easy... actually," you laugh, the sound sweet as spring water as it trickles over her skin, "it's really fucking hard but... why not do it anyway?"

"what, be happy?" her own voice is low and cracked from the fight earlier that night. but you'd kissed a line down her throat and told her that you loved it when she moaned.

"yeah. if the whole world wants us sad and angry... what bigger fuck you is there than to be... happy?"

pitfighter!vi who lets you draw the dark lines down her cheeks, but they're neater than she'd done them herself, who kisses your fingertips when they're stained with the black of her hair-dye, who laughs fully for the first time in... she doesn't even remember how long, when you lean forward and trace a tiny mustache with the leftover ink on your fingers right over her mouth. who sinks into the sound of your laughter like a warm bath, letting it soak into her sore muscles, unspool the tension coiled in her shoulders, the rictus threatening to settle in the set of her knuckles.

she lets you sooth over the harms and hurts that had followed behind her, nipping at her heels like disobedient dogs her whole life, lets you kiss her brows and pull her behind you as you point at the new graffiti art that wasn't there the week before.

pitfighter!vi who has always had a fierce love for zaun because it's her home, but has never stopped to consider just how beautiful of a place it is until she meets you -- and it is beautiful, an angry, pulsing, rebellious beauty, raw and dripping with shimmer-soaked ichor. a beauty carved of disparate limbs and desperate parts, one that is hard-earned and well-fought, the same beauty found in the darkest hours of night, right before the morning dawns, the same beauty she finds reflected back at her when she sees her blurred reflection in a pool of spilt blood on the fighting pit's arena floor.

zaun hums to the tune of debauchery, and for the first time, she's with someone who allows her to be greedy, allows her the breadth and width of wanting so freely. and she thinks it might be spiraling into a full-blown obsession, the way she can't go three seconds without thinking about you, wondering where you are, what you're doing, what you're up to. and you always tell her, tell her about the flowers you saw growing from a crack in the sidewalk, the shaft of sunlight hitting a shard of broken glass in just the right way, how sometimes if you close your eyes and listen, the ticking and clicking noises that run like a baseline thrum through the entire city almost sounds like birdsong.

pitfighter!vi who can't say she's ever fallen properly in love (she thinks that perhaps, once, she got real close), but wonders if this is what it feels like, to feel the void of your physical absence like the itch of a phantom limb, so she does everything she can to keep you close, glares at people if their eyes linger too long on you as the pair of you walk down the street, doubles down on her training regime so that she can fend of anyone who even breathes wrong in your direction.

who can't help pouting every time you pull away to do anything -- to grab another bag of snacks, to ask the bartender for another drink, to listen to something loris is saying -- she has to tamp down the urge to pull you back, to meld you to her side and never let go.

pitfighter!vi who starts to get more strategic with her fights, who saves up money now bc she wants to take you out to dinner, or just buy you nice things once in a while. who spends way too many hexes and cogs on a bouquet of fresh flowers, ones that aren't tainted or bred with the faint, sickly shine of shimmer, and she thinks its all worth it to watch the smile break across your face like dawn over a brand new day -- brilliant, blinding.

she blinks, watching with a fond smile as you fuss over the flowers in your tiny apartment, the space small but cozy, everything neat and in its place. you put the flowers into a tall, slightly chipped glass mug and set them by the window, admiring them from this angle, then that.

"y'like them, angel?"

you nod, grinning as you throw your arms around her, "i love them, vi! i love them so much!"

"good. i'm glad you like 'em. just..." her voice trails off; you cock your head.

"just, what?"

she shrugs, "ah -- just, i always thought it was sad getting flowers cause... they'll wilt someday, right?"

but when she looks back at you, still caught up in her arms, you're still smiling. and there's a fox-fire glint in your eyes that makes something in her stomach twist hot.

"well, there's one kind of flower that won't wilt that i wouldn't mind having here all the time..."

vi blinks, a dry heat creeping up the back of her throat, her heart a wild, fluttering thing caught beneath her cage of ribs.

"yeah?" her voice is hoarse as she swallows around the hope pooling on her tongue like blood. "and what kinda flower is that?"

you lean in, your breath a whisper along her parted lips.

"violets."

pitfighter!vi who moves in three days later, with nothing but some old clothes and her punching bag, which you'd already made room for (somehow) hung up from one of the high rafters in the kitchen, next to the tiny dining table tucked into the corner. who spends the next three days fucking you on every available surface (and some unavailable ones, like against the fridge for instance), telling you that it's only right to christen things now that you're officially living together.

who doesn't bother to wonder if things are moving too fast, and dives in head first because that's the only ways she's ever known to how to do things. who thinks, blithely to herself one night, the warm shape of you curled next to her, sleeping so soundly it almost breaks her heart, that you're probably the first good thing she's ever gotten stuck on -- and she's gotten stuck on a lot of things (fighting, boxing, the guilt, the shame, the anger, the world-ending sorrow of losing it all). its one of the things vander had always warned her about.

"you get into things too hard, kiddo -- gotta learn to pace yourself."

but she doesn't care, because hard's what she was raised on, and it's how she plans on loving you, god, if it's the last thing she does, right or wrong, so be it.

pitfighter!vi who still has her bad nights, still drinks a bit too much sometimes, but at least you're always there to keep her from going too far. and you're the only one who can pull her back, the only one she'll listen to when you tug the drink away from her hands and slide it down the bar towards loris, who'll eye it for a second before downing it and settling up the tab, nodding towards you even as you sling an arm around vi's middle to lead her out of the bar.

who still wakes up screaming some nights, her eyes wide and unseeing, scrabbling at you, tugging you into her if only to bury her face in your shoulder, her whole body wracked with dry-heaving sobs.

"my sister used to think there were monsters under the bed, and make me check down there every night before going to bed," she murmurs, her face inches from yours, her words soft and ever so slightly slurred.

you brush your fingers against her cheek, a comforting, repetative motion -- back and forth, back and forth, till her lashes flutter shut.

"guess she was right... but the monsters never wanna stay under the bed, do they? it's like they always... wanna come out and play..."

you let out a breathy laugh, "or maybe," you offer, your voice low and soothing, "they're just as scared as you are. and they're just looking for someone to scare their own monsters away."

pitfighter!vi who is still not good at slow, but sometimes, when she kisses you, she wishes that had the power to hit pause on time, just so she could stretch out the moment and kiss you forever. she thinks that she'll never be good at patience, but sometimes, when you tell her just gimme a sec! when she's waiting for you to get ready before going out to dinner at jericho's or just for a round of drinks at the bar round the corner, her leaning against the doorway watching as you put the finishing touches of your makeup on yourself in the kitchen mirror -- she thinks she'd give you every last second of the rest of her life if you ever asked her to.

pitfighter!vi who, recently, has really, really started hoping that someday soon, you'll actually ask her to.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent - join the taglist

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

Avatar: The Last Airbender High Fashion by Wisdom Kaye

[jo-gakky]

Macaque <333 (Back on the LMK shit :3 <3)

[xenksfightscene]

Xenk Yendar’s Fight Scene set to:

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) - ABBA

(YouTube link)

[dizzybizz]

i haven't seen anyone talking about his dad squint yet

have you seen him

sir, that's peak dad behavior

[mescalitoart]

Wyll for spooky month. Odd monster lair 🍭

Finally finished all the spooky-themed stuff😭

Other bg3 Halloween piece: Karlach || Gale

[merrigel]

Harrow the Ninth | Harrow the First | Nona the Ninth

[eddiewithcat]

the thing that gets me the absolute most about the love confession is just . how charles responds.

like, genuinely if he didn't feel some kind of feelings for edwin, he would've let him down gently, right then and there.

but it is the fact that he said "i can't say that like, i'm in love with you back, but there's no one else, no one else, that i would go to hell for. and we've got literally forever to figure out what the rest means" LIKE.

HE IS NOT QUITE AWARE OF HIS FEELINGS FOR HIM BECAUSE HE HAS NEVER THOUGHT TO THINK ANY DIFFERENTLY/ WHAT IT COULD POSSIBLY MEAN?

also this is neil gaiman show be so fucking for real!!!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

why aren't there more mysteries that take place in nursing homes & retirement communities. i want to watch a group of deranged retirees-cum-amateur-detectives combine their powers of:

decades of life experience

boredom-fueled busybody shamelessness

access to the most gossipy next-door-neighbors in existence

"I am too old to be arrested and/or give a shit" attitude

and solve crimes. this should be an enormous subgenre.

[regonold]

Danny accidentally starts beef with batman over kids

So I'm a sucker for dani and dan being Danny's kids (bonus points if danny gets called mum) and both of them are chaotic

The bat kids (family all of them batman and alfred included) are chaotic as well danny learns this after freshly joining the league as the semi immortal possibly from the start of time phantom and the league are introducing him to everyone and bonding and mentioning some of the wacky how the fuck shit that batman and his kids have done

So danny mentions some of the stuff his kids have done whilst batman is passing by, batman who hasn't had a nap in the past 72 hours and the day before as bruce was dealing with margie on the pta

And he makes a comment just a tiny one about how his kids saved a group from a hostage situation

And thus the rivalry began danny and batman keep bragging to each other about their kids sometimes it's vigilante stuff sometimes it mundane danny brags about how dani is so good with animals batman brags about how his youngest volunteers at the animal shelter

Just give me batman and danny bragging about their children to each other

[soft-cristobalite]

Not to read into the silly vampire show too much but Nandor calling himself the first pray of a young falcon while he is a 700+ years old vampire who was a conqueror during his mortal life, and the young falcon in question being a human retail worker who couldn't be a vampire because he hated killing people. Something something about admiting another person has an emotional power over you. Something something Guillermo's words affecting Nandor to his core. Something something fellas is it gay if your mood is completely dependant on your ex-emloyee?

[andi-o-geyser]

local gang of dnd players intimidate and viciously bully game show host sam reich, threatening to push his ass down the stairs like he's a 90-year-old grandma in a retirement home. more at 8