#this took like.... an hour and a half

[ochiody]

give odysseus loser hair please. thanks supergiant

[bebagerie]

surely this is how it went

[remxedmoon]

this was. supposed to be a warmup. i don’t know what happened. help.

(greyscale version + sketch below!!)

this drawing spiralled WILDLY out of control but i think it turned out sick so :3. also!!! i figured out a way to prevent tumblr from crunching up my art!!! tumblr won’t compress images if they have any amount of transparency in them, so i added two very thin (like. 1 pixel wide) lines of transparency on the top and bottom of these pics. they’re basically unnoticeable and they keep my image quality nice and hd!!! yipeee!!!!

anyways!! don’t mind how janky the sketch is. it sure is Something.

[sunnythedawg]

[crybaby-bkg]

I think Deku has a bit of a mean streak, actually. he’s no Bakugou—that’s for sure—but he’s not this innocent, sweet angel baby that the media has painted him out to be. but you only catch it when you least expect it, when you’re pushing his nerves, when the stakes to everything around him are high, when he’s tired of endless sleepless nights and just—snaps.

“Oh?” you go, grin unfurling like some grinch, chin resting on your hands as you leer at him from across his expansive desk. “You’re mean.” your words are teasing, a snarl that curls your mouth up. Deku stutters, eyes going wide, jaw snapping shut in surprise as he tries to think back on how rude he just sounded.

“No, I’m not—I mean, you wouldn’t stop and I just—there’s a lot on my plate right now—and you just—you keep on—I’m not—I’m not mean.” He’s sputtering, hands all over the place, the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose falling even lower with how he jabbers on and on. it’s endearing really, to see how he tries to upkeep his image of being so kind and understanding, even though his nostrils just flared at you. and his eyebrows turned down and he gritted at you, his hands were balled into fists, his words were so nasty, so ugly, so unbecoming for Deku.

you liked it. loved it even—vowed to get him like this every single fucking second that you could.

you pick and poke at him whenever you see him, teasing him and pulling at him. pushing him around even though the hero is so much stronger than you, so much bigger. and he lets you, tries to defend himself but—that’s not what you want. you want the ugliness, the snark, the mean.

he snaps, eventually, when you least expect it. grabs you up in black whip when you go to push him against the wall for the third time in only a minute, his eyes suddenly dark, the aura of the room suddenly charged.

“That’s what I was looking for.” you whisper to him, the grin spreading your face quickly dissipating in only seconds when you become the prey. when you become the one pushed up against the wall with teeth at your neck, a hand in your underwear, bullying your hole with too thick fingers.

“Why do you want me to act like this? Be so mean to you, huh?” he sounds so frustrated with himself, with you, growling and nipping and licking when you don’t answer quick enough. but your breath is caught in your lungs because finally—finally, did you get what you wanted. it just took a little bit of pushing, you suppose.

[sunn-mechanic]

[ID in alt]

Guess that makes me Evil

--

I could not stop thinking about how Vex is probably dead in DR, that shit makes me so unwell

Also, version without the lyrics below, bc I like both:

[ID in alt]

[rafeandonlyrafe]

morning cravings

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, mentions of past hookups and drinking, semi public sex

you pull out your phone and quickly type out a message to rafe.

im coming over. unlock the door for me.

you push your feet into your tennis shoes before he even texts back.

i was about to hop in the shower

i don't care. my coffee machine broke and im dying without my caffeine 

you grab your bag before heading out the door, crossing the street to rafes house, having lived next to him your entire life.

“hey.” you mumble as rafe opens the door for you. you don't even look around as you enter, knowing his house like the back of your hand.

“wheezie just bought some new syrups if you want to try them out.” rafe says before retreating out of the kitchen, knowing you'll be in a bad mood until you have a mug of hot coffee in your hand.

you don't put much care into your first cup, drinking it black and gulping half down before adding some syrups and milk.

you sip slower now, padding around the house and it's many rooms until you find rafe.

“thanks.” you tell him. “where is everyone?”

“probably asleep still.” rafe says. he knows you always get up early, and he's adjusted his schedule throughout the years to fit with yours.

“hm.” you hum out, taking another sip of the bitter coffee before setting it down on the side table. “do you think we have time to fuck?”

“i-” rafe sits up suddenly, straightening out his previously slumped position. “what?”

“remember that time we hooked up?” you question, moving with confidence to sit on rafes lap, placing your knees on the couch cushion on either side of his thighs.

“we were both blacked out though. i thought for the sake of our friendship we agreed to not-”

you cut rafe off by surging forward and pressing your lips against his. “i want you. now.”

rafe doesn't question it. if he did you'd probably admit that your vibrator frustratingly died on you last night and wouldn't charge, leading to your pent up attitude.

rafe kisses you harshly, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in flush to his body while his other hand comes to the back of your head, holding you close as his lips attack yours.

“fuck, we don't have much time though.” rafe says, breathing faster already as his muscular chest rises and falls.

“i want you right here.” you reach down and pet your palm over rafes crotch, feeling his length harden under the plaid pajama pants material. “we can fuck again later in your room, but i need you to make me cum right now.”

“okay.” rafe tries to stay listening to the stairs, waiting for a creak to tell him to stop, but the second your hand moves under the hem of his pants, all is forgotten.

you pull his cock out, wrapping your hand around his length as you stroke up and down, grinding yourself down against his thighs to get you even wetter than you already are.

“take your shorts off.” rafe says, hand coming to your ass and giving it a squeeze, a smile growing on his face when you get off his lap only to turn and have your bum face him as you pull down your shorts and underwear, bearing your pussy to rafe.

you expect him to let you turn around and ride him, use his body if he doesn't feel like helping, but suddenly your thighs are being spread by long slender fingers and rafes mouth is on your cunt.

you moan out probably too loudly and lean forward to place your hands on the coffee table as rafes tongue swipes through your folds, tasting all the juices and wetness that has accumulated.

“god.” you whine, pushing your hips back against rafes face. “don't stop.”

you feel his mouth drop slightly to reach your clit, his lips wrapping around your bud as he sucks. 

your fingers dig into the wooden table as you moan out again, trying to keep yourself from screaming as you grind back against his face.

rafe eats you out for as long as he will allow himself while in the living room. he stands suddenly, tongue licking at your wetness covering his lips.

before you can stand or turn, rafes cock is pressed against your entrance, his hands on your hips.

“fuck me rafe.” you tell him, looking over your shoulder. “fuck me hard.”

you don't have to tell rafe twice as he sinks into you, both letting out curses at the sudden intense pleasure.

rafe pauses for just a moment, somewhat to let you adjust but more so to allow himself a deep breath and refocus on not cumming too soon despite your cunt clutching his cock, seemingly sucking his length deeper inside of you.

“so fucking-” rafe gasps. “warm and wet.”

you open your mouth to respond with some quip when rafe begins to thrust, pounding into you with abandon, not treating you like you've been his best friend since kindergarten but like a whore he's having a one night stand with.

it makes you regret not giving in to the lust sooner as rafes hand reaches around your midsection and his fingers find your clit, strumming it with rhythm in time with his hips.

“we're doing this more often.” you tell rafe, who nods in agreement despite you facing away from him, he can't find his words at the moment.

“god, your cock is big.” you moan out. you remember the hookup somewhat despite telling rafe the next day you didn't, but a cock like his leaves an impression even in a completely blacked out drunk mind.

rafes fingers pinch at your clit, smiling as he feels your pussy grip his cock tighter every time.

the one hand on your hip is grabbing you so tightly you're sure to be bruises, but you just want rafe to cover you completely, marking you as his.

“im-im not gonna last much longer.” rafe says. 

“rub me faster.” you command, eyes squeezing shut as you focus on the high building inside of you, wanting to cum at the same time as rafe.

his cock swells inside of you, pushing even further against your walls as your orgasm suddenly breeches as you cum with a gasp and a cry of rafes name.

you let out a whine when rafe suddenly pulls out, his cum spurting across your bum as he jacks himself off.

“the fuck?” you ask, turning around. “i wanted you to cum inside of me!”

“i-i-” rafe stutters, his eyes widening.

“come on.” you groan, pulling your shorts back on and grabbing your sullied, wet underwear. “you can make it up to me in your room.”

you make sure to grab your coffee before heading up the stairs.

[www-bestiemme]

The Smallest Church in Saint-Saëns

No smoke version and og picture undercut :]

[sororygilmore]

CLOSE TO YOU BY GRACIE ABRAMS ୨୧

[nickloonie]

he just needs more juice

[hadalzonee]

attack for @realpokemon of rodney and bart!

[yangjeongin]

ponytail dance practice hyunjin 💓 somebody please get my guy a towel

[lilybug-02]

Dark Fountains Causing the Apocalypse? ❌😒

Dark Fountains as a Metaphor for Global Warming? ✅👏

[soggedupfrog]

Ffinally.....collapses to the floor...my troll.. lineup

[collophora]

"Let's fix this drawing" *redraw the whole thing*

[hungharrington]

ok this is filth adjacent but would u ever write a lil blurb or fic about Steve with a gf whose super insecure about her stretch marks and body? And May be she doesn't want to disappoint Steve bc his exes seem prettier

would i ever! i love these type of requests i love ppl getting a little bit of respite and comfort through fic esp in smut! i hope this makes u feel even a little bit hotter babe <3 1.6k, afab!reader, and just filth adjacent sry! MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve's mouth is on your neck, his tongue hot where it teases against your skin, and his hands are searching your body with a lustful fervor.

Your head tips back. It's so easy to let him in, let him slide his body closer to yours, to get more of whatever he's giving. The hot press of his mouth on your neck feels damn good enough to make your blood sing—and heat travel between your thighs, wetness beginning to pool.

You want to rub your thighs together, if only for a little relief. Steve's toned thigh between them prevents it. You scrunch his polo between your hands instead, trying to wrestle the courage to slip your hands beneath it.

You're lying back on his bed, propped up lightly by the pile of pillows the two of you had stacked when the evening had begun. The television at the end of the bed runs a film idly in the background, completely unnoticed by this point.

"How we doin'?" Steve's voice rumbles out, barely parting his lips from your skin before he's swooping back in to nip at it again. The bastard.

Your hands flex again, finally mustering the nerve to dive beneath the fabric of his shirt. Steve's warm. You feel the muscles of his tummy shudder as you skim your fingers across it, a pleasurable shiver running down your spine at the trail of hair you can feel leading into his pants. Steve's breath hitches, close to your ear.

He nudges your jaw with his nose lovingly, planting another row of sloppy, wet kisses down the expanse of your neck.

"Hmm," He hums, questioningly. "Still doing good?"

You realise you hadn't exactly answered him and something glows in your chest at his insistent checks. Extremely reluctantly, you manage to drag your hands away from his torso, shifting them up to subtly nudge his face out the curve of your neck.

Steve's eyes dart up to your face as he pulls himself back, his expression turning dopey the moment your hands cup his jaw. His cheeks are flushed ruby and his hair has been mussed in all his steamy motions. He looks fucking delicious.

You kiss him — surging up to connect your mouths, warmth exploding in your chest and trickling down, down when Steve responds with a revere hunger. His plush lips scrape against yours filthily, his tongue always so perfectly teasing. You're gasping for air when you pull away.

"So good," You say breathily, finally answering the question.

Steve takes a moment longer to register what you've said—but that dopey look crosses his face the moment he does.

He plants his hands on the bed and shifts his weight back, sitting back on his heels. His thigh is still situated right between yours and you have to shove down the lustful urge to grind against it, lazy pleasure still pooling low in your gut. Though you're pretty sure Steve wouldn't oppose the idea.

Chest heaving lightly, you watch as Steve reaches for the edges of his polo and tugs upwards. It comes off in one smooth motion and you're rewarded with a fine sight. You're pretty sure your mouth actually waters in response. Tan chest, scattered moles, the smattering of hair. Oh god, you want to lick him.

Something in your face must give away your train of thought because Steve laughs. He leans back down, one hand moving to your waist, and nuzzles his nose against yours. He steals a kiss from your lips.

"See somethin' you like?" He says, the smirk evident in his tone. You feel like you might vibrate out of your skin.

"Shut up," You aim for fiesty and fall far, far short. You sound on the verge of a whine when you say, "You know I do."

Steve grins wider. His hand on your waist tucks under your shirt seamlessly, his thumb drawing maddening circles into the skin. Your breath catches, even as your arousal hikes.

"What about you?" He whispers the question between his kisses as he mouths along your jaw again, finding that same damn spot on your neck again. It'll be violet coloured by the morning. "Do I get to see something I'll like?"

He's asking permission. It takes a long moment to realise that—too distracted between the touch of his fingertips skating across your skin and the addicting feel of his lips against your pulse.

You nod without thinking.

Steve pulls your shirt up no more than a few inches before your brain catches back up. Your hand moves abruptly, grabbing his hand and yanking it and your shirt back down in a split second.

Steve's halting in an instant, pulling back from working lovebites on your neck to see what he's done wrong. There's a string of spit connecting his lips to your neck.

Steve frowns in concern, shifting his hand up wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, as he makes an effort to put a little distance between you.

"You okay?" He asks. You're still holding his wrist, which is still holding the edge of your shirt. "What happened?"

Your mouth opens uselessly and closes. You know precisely why you had stopped him and now you're facing up with the fact you have to tell him, lest Steve believe you're actually having second thoughts over being with him.

It's just... you've probably spent far too many hours in the mirror. You've seen it from every angle. Seen it in every lighting. You can't quite ever seem to make your body look good.

You don't look like any of the girls Steve's been with in the past.

Comparison is killer, you're aware of this, but infuriatingly you just can't seem to stop. You think of what Steve will see the moment he gets your shirt off, what he'll realise, and your hand tightens around his wrist subconsciously. Your throat tightens up too.

Steve's face melts into a softer expression, eyes big. "Hey, hey, it's totally fine if you said one thing and- and you realise that you didn't mean it, it's okay."

Words continue to evade you and humiliatingly, it feels more likely that tears will escape you before any explanation will. He's being so nice.

"But..." Steve continues, his tone wary as if aware he's treading on uneven ground. "You seemed like you were into it. Like, comfortable, I mean. Then it was like a flip switched and you froze."

"I-" You finally find your voice. You clear your throat as you try to find the right words, breaking Steve's intense gaze to study the ceiling.

This is worse. This has got to be worse that just Steve taking your shirt off and being disappointed because— because you're goddamn building up to it. Your eyes screw shut and you decide it's better to rip the band-aid off.

"I'm just," You can't quite keep the quiver out of your voice. "I'm not like- like girls you've dated before."

Steve makes a noise of confusion and it's enough to force your eyes open. You glance down, taking in Steve's adorably furrowed brow.

"Okay...?" He says, clearly still a bit confused.

"I mean, Steve," You say, voice a little steadier. Your hand around his wrist finally remembers to relax.

You release the hold on him and tuck your hand under your shirt discretely, covering the skin of your stomach you know is warped with stretch marks. "I don't look like the girls you've dated before. My- my body is different."

The wrinkle between Steve's brow shifts, moving from confused to something a little harsher.

"So?"

You blink. Of all the possibilities that you had run, not one of them had ended with Steve saying that.

"So?" You echo meekly. "So... so you might be like, I don't know, disappointed or think—mfh"

The words get smushed beneath Steve's fervent kiss, stealing one kiss off your lips and all your words with it. You blink up at him again, all your endless arguments of why Steve would be so disappointed suddenly silenced.

Steve grins, evidently pleased with his reaction.

Tentatively, moving slowly so you could intervene if you wished, he drags his hand along the sheets and onto your hip again. This time, however, he pushes the fabric of your shirt up and doesn't pause til it's bunched up, most of your torso on show.

Your nerves gather, gnawing at the edges of your chest. You can't bring yourself to move the hand that's trying to hide part of you, even if a dozen other stretch marks are visible now.

Then Steve leans down and he kisses your skin, right in the middle of your tummy.

"I think," He says, lips dragging across your skin and setting it aflame. He's looking up at your through his lashes, your gazes locked, his eyes dark. Another kiss, this time longer, with just a flash of tongue. "You're hot shit."

Instinct makes you want to scoff. But Steve says it so seriously that you almost believe him off the bat. Believe that he believes that.

He lowers himself onto his elbows, letting both of his large hands settle onto your waist, fingers pressing into the skin lightly. You shiver at the feeling and start to consider the possibility that he actually does think that.

"And I will gladly," He punctuates the word with another kiss, this one evolving into a soft, sensual lick up towards your breasts which peak lustfully in response. Your breath hitches. "Spend all the time needed if you need some convincing of that."

His hands move, sliding down til he's gently knocking yours aside, big warms hands spread across your hips. His thumbs are moving, drawing soft motions down, you realise, towards your waistband. Your pulse jumps between your legs, the heat in your body uncaring about the brief interruption.

Steve kisses your tummy again, further down this time. You acutely realise you've got Steve Harrington between your thighs, looking up at you with darkened eyes and promising filthy things with his fingers. Or mouth. Both if you're lucky.

"So," Steve murmurs, voice raspy and low. His thumbs slip beneath your waistband, just an inch. "You gonna let me convince you?"

You're feeling pretty damn lucky.