#was fun eitherway

[leftoverlimerence]

[daemon-in-my-head]

When I'm not thinking about shit he'd do or say I am in fact still producing 20 other WIPs with his face.

WIP, obv

[deliajackson]

Just thinking that every perpollo fic I have ever read usually have the vibe of Midnight Rain by Taylor Swift.

[hoblinthehog]

I love fishing in the void :)

Working on actually posting the prints I made for sandbox now that the deadline isn't breathing against my neck.

[hampurrger]

doodled them during therapy (maybe this is why I need therapy]

[spiderton]

well whatever. i still love spiderbeetle they make me very happy

[horrorwebs]

I MADE MORE FRIENDS . !!

[satans-teddybear]

Moshing is like a wild pokemon encounter, you'll be a charmander up against a nedoqueen or you could be a groudon vs a ratata. and that one cute person you wanted to see again is is the fucking abra the way they seem to be teleporting out of sight every 3 seconds.

need to post my favourite tweet in the entire world

[cursedthing]

.throwing hlvrai posts onto our blog at top speeds due to not being able to watch what the crew's cooking up. cuz Time Zones exist

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: the two of you head back to his place and you see why the boy has soooo many fans that are crazy about him

content warning: dry humping, slight exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, denial, p in v, overstimulation

word count: 1.6k

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001: feral

Breaking news: famed baseball player of the Yomiura Giants, Ken Sato, fucks like a god. And my god, did you have to experience it to believe it.

After the exchange at the bar, the two of you headed back to his place on his bike, barely big enough for the two of you. It’ll fit, he insisted, handing you a helmet. You took your place in front of him, in between his legs—your chest to his back, and the two of you set off. But here’s the thing about riding a fast bike, zooming through the city, with the tiniest skirt and thong that you have on—everything vibrates, hard. When you realized, it was already too late to ask him to stop. You were going 90 miles an hour, desperate to get home as quickly as possible to bang it out. All you could do was bite your lip as you fought back the urge to moan and make a mess all over the front seat of a stranger that you barely knew. Eitherway, you squirmed, unknowingly grinding against the leather, trying to focus on getting yourself off when you heard a guttural groan escape from the figure behind you. You froze, realizing the all-too-familiar feeling of something hard poking your back.

“Don’t stop,” he beckons, hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you down against the seat so you couldn’t escape. “Keep getting yourself off. It turns me on, hearing you moan like that.”

You smile smugly, enjoying the effect you had on him, and start to, almost performatively, continue where you left off, drawing out your moans and grinding against him. His grip around you tightens, and you lean backwards, almost writhing. One hand gripping the front of the seat for balance, the other reaching up around his neck, pulling him downwards, so he could see you and your perverse performance. You didn’t really care that you were out in public, technically the two of you were going so fast it must’ve seemed like a blur towards the passersbys, who would’ve just heard the faintest hint of moaning underneath all that engine revving.

Unfortunately, your teasing couldn’t last forever, as you finally arrived at his place. Grinning up at him, you expected something grand, like him grabbing you and taking you then and there, but he had gotten off his seat and headed for the door without as much as giving you a second thought. Shocked, confused, and a little bit hurt—you followed after him, walking through the garage door towards the illuminated living room, which almost seemed to glow amber. However, before you had time to admire the gorgeous exterior, you found yourself shoved against the wall, his hands by your head. Your heart pounded in your chest, unsure of whether to feel afraid or excited.

“Had fun, huh?” He says, almost growling. You could make out the taut of his jaw and how his eyes were a fierce intensity of frustration and something else—more carnal—hunger. “Making a mess, teasing me—so impatient.”

His hand darts underneath your skirt, sliding in between your folds. You bite your lip, the pads of his fingers are rough against your skin, but they’re also so big, and so warm. He pulls them out, parting his fingers to showcase the sticky mess in between your thighs. A blush creeps up to your cheeks at his display of your arousal; partially embarrassed, you look away, to which he grabs your chin roughly, redirecting you towards his uncompromising gaze.

“No, look at me.” He barks, “where was that confident little slut that was hitting on me in the bar, huh?”

God.

He moves down towards your ear, his warm breath tickling the skin of your neck.

“You wanted to know how hard I bite right?” He whispers, his voice having this abrasive, impatient edge. “You’ll find out soon enough. Come here.”

And in one swift motion, he slings you across his shoulder like you weigh nothing, heading to the bedroom. You laugh nervously, part in excitement, and part in fear for what’s to come. You had never met someone as eager as he was, practically stomping on the gas pedal. You let out a surprised squeak when you are roughly thrown onto the mattress. With barely a moment to adjust, you feel him flip you over onto your stomach.

“Hands and knees,” he commands, pulling your hips closer to him. “Now.”

You do as he says, feeling his hands part you slightly, the cool air of the night and his hot breath against your core. You press your face into the sheets of his bed in anticipation.

“God,” he sounds, “do you have any idea how hard it was to not fuck you then and there in the middle of the street?”

He runs a finger down your heat, rubbing circles around your clit. You roll your eyes back and moan into the mattress, your voice coming out muffled.

“No,” he says, his large hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you up against him. His other hand wraps around your hip, reaching down to resume his actions. “Don’t hide, come here—you wanted this right?”

He quickens the pace of his fingers, causing you to arch your back against him, pressing yourself against his throbbing erection. He groans again, almost painfully, and starts to grind himself against your ass.

“Hey, come on, answer me,” his hand lightly slaps your face, “you wanted this right? Practically asking for it, staring me down with those fuck me eyes.”

You nod absentmindedly, too lost in pleasure. His fingers find their way into your mouth, finger-fucking both your holes, eliciting the lewdest moans from you. His grinding grows more and more desperate, almost throwing you off balance had it not been his grip around you keeping you in place, unable to resist or escape.

“Use your words,” he snarks, “use your words, baby, I believe in you.”

You let out another moan.

“Y-yes,” you manage to stutter out, drool dribbling around his fingers and down your chin.

“What was that?” He says, his voice teasing, breath hot against your ear. “I didn’t catch that—can you tell me again, pretty girl?”

You were so close, practically on the edge, your hips grinding against the palm of his hand, desperately chasing release.

“Yes!” Crying out as best as you can, mouth still full, “I wanted this, I asked for it.”

“Good,” he coos in your ear, “good girl.”

The praise made your insides clench and tighten around his finger, producing a perversely wet squelch. You knew from the noise that you were already a dripping mess down there, arousal coating his hand dripping down your thighs.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out from inside of you, and you gasp at the sudden loss of sensation. You look back and whimper, having been so close.

“Poor baby,” he speaks softly, “feeling empty?”

You nod your head. He smiles a devilish grin. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fill you up with something else.”

He moves to nip and suck on the sensitive skin of your neck, positioning himself in between your thighs, slowly rocking back and forth—thighfucking you. You lean back against him, relishing in the pleasure of it all; your arm reaching up craning around his neck, bringing his ear down near your mouth.

“You sound so good, baby,” he moans, “soooo good.”

His hand moves from your neck, down your chest, and roughly squeezes your breast. You gasp, grinding against him more, frustrated at the teasing. You needed him in you. Badly.

“Please,” you sound out, voice dripping with need, “please put it in.”

He’s slightly shocked at your eagerness, but quickly brushes it off and smiles.

“Yeah?” He teases, “you want me that bad?”

You nod desperately. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I guess it can’t be helped.”

You feel the head of his cock press up against the swollen slit of your entrance, and in one swift motion, he pushes himself inside of you, your slickness once again making a lewd squelch. You throw your head back, finally getting the pressure you’ve been craving, letting your hips fuck into him roughly.

“Fuck,” he curses, “god, you feel so good baby.”

He pulls out slightly, before thrusting back into you, the entirety of his length pressing up against your g-spot, pushing you over the edge—legs shaking and squirting, doubled over.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, “you came just from that?”

Your lie almost motionless, trying to catch your breath, limp against the mattress. God, that was the best orgasm you’ve had in months. You’ll spend forever trying to chase that same high.

“Oh sweetheart,” he coos, kissing along the trail of your spine, “I’m far from done.”

He flips you over onto your back, spreading apart your thighs and pushing himself into you again. Your back arches instinctually, wrapping your legs around his waist, taking all of him.

“My gorgeous girl,” he hums, hand roughly gripping your face, forcing you to look at him. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on this cock.”

His thumb slides into your mouth again, making a mess of your face. His hips stutter into you, and you are helpless—overtaken by pleasure, rolling your eyes back, getting absolutely fucked stupid by him.

“Good girl,” he keeps saying, “good girl, good girl. Taking me so well.”

You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve climaxed, or how many hours this has gone on for. The seconds blurred into how many minutes in how many hours you didn’t know. All you know is that Kenji Sato fucks like a god, fucks you so good—possibly the best you’ve ever had.

“Don’t think,” he whispers in your ear, arms tightly wrapped around you, thrusting sloppily. “You don’t have to use that pretty brain of yours—don’t think—just cum. Cum for me, baby.”

And cum you did. Over and over again.

prev | next

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author’s note: GODDDD ME WHEN ME WHEN ME WHEN 💥💳💥💳💥💳 (I say this like I’m not in voluntary celibacy) hehe I hope you guys liked this 🤭🤭🤭 I’ll be honest smut is still something that’s kind of tricky for me to write but overall I’m kind of proud of this ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥 I think I kinda cooked 🗣️🗣️💥💥 all in all, I will say that I took a lot of inspiration from Lady K and the Sick Man (iykyk) 👀👀🫦🫦🫦 and uh- yeah, expect more freaky scenes like these in the story because that’s like, the initial basis of their relationship HEHE until the next update 🫵🫵💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic

[blue-jisungs]

gamer bf!wonu hcs

authors note. inspired by the fact that a) i love gamer bf things b) i love wonwoo c) i’m a loser d) im a loser who plays ow and i had an encounter with another wonwoorideul while playing ow.

gamer bf!wonwoo who lets you use his gaming set up, having a separate account. he knows you use it for academic stuff or to watch youtube and whatever. he knows that you like all the shiny details like keyboard emiting rainbow lights when you touch a key. or the cute hamster commuter mouse he bought you (and sometimes uses it too when he’s too lazy to switch to his professional gaming mouse)

gamer bf!wonwoo who buys the games he thinks you’d like. if you don’t — it’s not like he’s poor, right? he usually ends up playing the games eitherway...

gamer bf!wonwoo who loves explaining and showing you how the games work. either the ones he bought for you or the ones he plays. and you genuinely love to listen and try the games, especially when his large and warm hands are atop yours and guide you <3

gamer bf! wonwoo who – maybe in a cheesy manner – says that you’re his good luck charm. not that we wins only when you’re here because he is a good player but it brings him more joy when you’re around. even if you’re just absentmindedly scrolling on insta while on his lap.

gamer bf! wonwoo who once entered his room and saw you playing one of the games he plays. and… you were rocking. and enjoying yourself. wonwoo was shocked, to say at least, but also proud. and happy!!

you mumble shyly and explain that you started playing the game because of him, it seemed fun and you wanted to surprise him… and you didn’t notice that he didn’t log off

and gamer bf!wonwoo couldn’t be more happy that you can share hobbies, he loves playing with you 🥹 he buys another pc set up eventually, letting you pick all the color themes and accessories you want hehe

gamer bf! wonwoo who doesn’t hesitate to jump on vc when someone is insulting you … even nasty 12yos are scared of his deep voice hehe~~

and gamer bf! wonwoo who cheers on you when you have a kill streak or play of the game… he’s all over you, pecking your face while you’re giggling and squirming because you can’t see your screen >_<

gamer bf! wonwoo who spoils you with capital S. that man will not take no as an answer when he knows there’s a pretty skin for your fav character!! buys you battle passes, coins, accessories… whatever you want!! will also be a sucker for matching things, like key chains with signature weapons of your fav characters or matching pfps with game characters that players ship hehe

you and your gamer bf! wonwoo who may be a loser but still loves you the most — and will even sacrific his sleep schedule do pull an all-nighter and play games with you <3

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth

[dvtchie]

Everything in S tier literally occurs in all of my iz fics 💀

To be fair though, my irkens can sharpen/retract their teeth at will, so like normally its the zipper teeth but they use the sharp teeth for intimidation

Oh hey this was fun!

[eldritch-spouse]

You mentioned that Mooncalf goes through heat, what is ue like during a rut?

TW: Altered states of mind (consensually or not)

Fey mostly breed with other fey. But when that's not on the menu, or they simply have different tastes, that's when things get interesting.

A non-fey partner has to be hunted. Different strokes for different folks, but most hunting methods for these types of monsters usually work on the basis of luring and deceiving.

When his rut approaches, Mooncalf gets an intense desire to trap those who he finds attractive (or just people his hormonal mind will nod towards), and in this case, that would be you.

Presuming you haven't met yet, you wouldn't know he's a fey at all, initially.

He'll target you when you're alone, or at the very least, drive others away so he can get you alone.

Mooncalf glamors himself in a humanoid figure that, at first glance, appears to be no more than a conventionally attractive man. His eyes may be a little too striking, and his speech can sometimes seem awkward, but he looks charming enough that you won't want to pay attention to details... Such as how his long hair will be arranged to cover pointed ears.

He'll usually be on the verge of tears when he approaches you, or crying to himself waiting for you to politely initiate conversation.

The fey has a number of strategies he uses, from claiming he desperately needs help finding a lost possession to, if you're particularly gullible or charmed by him, saying he has nowhere to stay for a number of really sympathetic reasons.

Eitherway, you're getting isolated and pushed into a pocket dimension sooner or later, especially if you end up seeing through him. It's possible you do, given the longer it takes to put you in the perfect spot, the sweatier and less composed Mooncalf will become.

Ideally, he gets you to eat something he made for you, as a reward for being "ever so kind" and helping him. For a fey in heat, getting their partner to accept their meals doesn't just give them more control over you, it also offers them gratification and soothing.

As soon as you've been transported to the pocket space, something probably a little traumatic for you considering it feels like suddenly passing out- Mooncalf drops, or attempts to, the human glamor.

While his glamors are more responsive to his will when Mooncalf is inside his own territory, the magic inertia he suffers from sometimes still flares up, he has to wait in agony a bit more before he can become his "real self" and chase after you.

He wants to impress you, in some way. Whether the impression left is fear or awe, Mooncalf just feels that he needs to stand out and capture your attention. You can essentially play your cards in two ways: Keep rejecting him, and chance the fey's mood going from playful to irritated, or playing along and get smoother treatment.

An irritated Mooncalf will make a game out of breaking you into a pliant bedtoy, all too eager to snap things this way and that just to lightly maim you into submission.

A secure Mooncalf will melt under your touch and ply you with drink, sweets, gifts upon gifts.

A core element of this process, regardless of how willing you are, is to get you drunk. Drunk, in a mystical land, you'll be filled with an infectious, endless joy, dancing with the fey that kidnapped you, until the trance lands you in a bed with him. Or even just a field of impossibly beautiful greenery.

He's not gentle. Mostly because it's been too long, and he's dying to have this kind of fun again. You're not likely to complain anyway, so he'll waste no time roughly ripping clothes aside and driving into you so furiously and consistently that you'll lose what's left of your mind. Sometimes, his old and monstrous nature will get to him, reducing Mooncalf to a drooling, guttural mess, eyes rolled back and head twitching around.

He's present enough to understand when you need breaks, caring for your health when you're too fucked out to move, and effectively repeating this cycle of "court-ply/chase-mate" until his rut starts slowing down.

You're let out of the pocket space disheveled and wondering how to resume life, but one thing's for sure, you'll never really be the same again. You might never feel as high as you did in the fae's pocket.

[twilights-stuff]

I'm honestly obsessed with the headcanons of poolverine shippers about other Wolverine variants finding out about Worst Wolvie dating/being engaged/being married to Wade Wilson aka the MOTHERFUCKING DEADPOOL aka the most annoying and insufferable piece of shit they have ever known and met in their own respective universes (though some variants might have not met or known their own Deadpool but probably know enough of other Deadpools to hate the dude). I love how they either find out because Worstie's Deadpool visited their universes and teamed up with them OR there's a sort of meet up between various Wolverine variants and Worst Wolvie is just there being all chill with the fact he's dating Wade or being all flustered with the fact he's dating Wade. Eitherway, their reactions at first are a mix of bewilderment, confusion, disappointment, some anger and shock, maybe a bit of disgust, maybe some are chill and over all just kinda poking fun of Worstie's choice of partner. Despite this, Worstie will always have Wade's back just as much as Wade has his. However, overtime as the other variants see how much Wade genuinely loves and cares for his Wolvie, how much Wolvie reciprocates that same love in return and how they are both genuinely happy and content with the other for being the only person to truly understand them, the other Wolverine variants start yearning and wanting (some are even a tad bit jealous) for what Wade and Worst Wolverine have. There's an ache in their hearts wishing to have someone similar to Worstie's Deadpool who truly understands them, takes them home and loves them whole, flaws and all. Some variants who have met Worstie's Wade might have have found themselves falling for the Merc and dread the fact that they could never have Wade because he already belongs to someone else who happens to be quite territorial and tad bit possessive to his beloved partner. I love how the headcanon would end with the other Wolverine variants trying to find and meet up with their own Wade Wilson in hopes of forming a life long bond with their respective Deadpools as Worst Wolverine and his Wade find their way back to each other's arms, being all lovey dovey and shit in their own ways.

[yuqsdug]

They miss Family.

If only they could Remember.

A quick doodle of Traveller!Player

Brother from another mother or adoptive child... Which is more fun?

Eitherway, he's gone.

(Isn't wishing fun?)

[insanepoll]

If yall promise to be civil, I promise not to write 12 rant posts with 7 paragraphs each and deactivate when my favs get eliminated

In the kindest way possible, because almost everyone who's left tags has been like, enthusiastic/nice/only playfully mean, I've been thinking about making a list of etiquette for interacting with these brackets. Because when you have enough people in one space, IRL or online, you'll inevitably have at least a few people who say some of the most hurtful, out of pocket shit possible, and I don't want things to get ruined for anyone else you know?

Like, things you SHOULD do (unless a poll runner specifically says they don't want it):

Uplift your favs

PLAYFULLY slander the competition

Make fun memes about the polls

Things you SHOULDN'T do:

Post multi-paragraph rants about how much you hate a character

Ask the poll runner to include characters well into the voting phase of the bracket

Demand they run second, third, etc brackets because Your favorite character didn't get submitted

Things you ABSOLUTELY do NOT do:

Compare the poll results to real-life politics ("Which robot would you fuck" != Brexit, 2016 POTUS, etc)

Tell people to kill themselves if they dont vote for your favorite character

Send death threats/doxx people running the Tumblr poll (!?)

I don't have an end to this post. I have to go to class. But I can't be the only poll runner tired of suicide jokes/death threats/doxxing in the fucking Tumblr Poll Community or whatever.