#whiplash imagine

[oncasette]

More Andrew Neiman? Maybe like a "come to bed" moment. He obviously won't listen because sleep is temporary, drums are forever. Last resort: you end up sitting in his lap and persuade him in other ways... ending with cuddling? 💓💓

this request is soooo old and i'm so so sorry but i hope everyone still enjoys. i'm trying to go back through my ask box and write the ones that still spark joy :)

you were seconds away from walking out into the living room and just snapping drew's stick in half. it wasn't that you hated his drumming. far from it, actually, it'd been one of the reasons you'd been so interested in him to begin with. but you were getting a little sick of hearing it at full volume through the thin plaster of your apartment's walls in the wee hours of the morning.

"drew?" you called. nothing. or, not nothing. the incessant banging was something.

you grumbled as you pushed yourself up and out of the cocoon you'd constructed, keeping a single blanket wrapped tight over your shoulders as a barrier for the cold threatening to hit you. throwing open the door, you came face to face with your boyfriend. he didn't even spare a glance, winced eyes locked on the kit in front of him.

"andrew!" you shout in hopes that it'll break through his trance better than your regular speaking voice. he looks up quick and shakes his head. you hear his cadence falter slightly. he grabs the cymbal to stall its movement and gathers both of his sticks into one hand.

"what is it?" he asks groggily. the bags under his eyes beg for your further interruption.

"can you please come to bed?" you ask. you offer him your best pout in hopes that it'll sway him.

"i will soon, i've almost got this." he stretches out his back and resets his sticks.

"you said that six hours ago," you say. you shuffle a foot or so closer to him.

"babe-"

"c'mon, drew. you know i usually let you play for however long you want. just come to bed tonight. for me, please?" you ask as you come around the side of the kit. you drop yourself down into his lap, his hands instinctively coming around to hold your waist and keep you settled there. allowing the thin blanket to drop off your shoulders, you bring one hand up to force his gaze on you.

he whispers your name.

leaning forward, you slant your mouth over his. he hesitates at first and you know he's seconds away from pulling away completely to urge you back into your bedroom so that he can get back to work, but then he's melting into you. his hold tightens on your waist and his tongue slips into the gap between your lips and you feel the tension in his shoulders ease as he leans further in to capture your gasp.

he breaks away but he offer you no space. "only for you."

[fvckw4d]

I don't know how to explain it exactly, but Danny phantom (the show)'s identity and tone problems make the whole viewing experience kind of uncanny, like it's forever trapped between the two entirely different genres of wacky superhero comedy and serial horror thriller, as if it was both simultaneously two incompatible things at the same time,

[grimesgirll]

somewhat obsessed with the idea of wearing rick’s boxers.

it’s like second nature to you. it has to be.

after every time you slid into bed, every time rick and daryl strip you of your own undergarments, every time they fuck you dumb, everytime rick maneuvers you into your position bundled against his chest, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers.

the two had been surprised at first when they found you face down on the bed after a long day in nothing but a tiny tank top and rick’s blue and white striped boxers.

it took everything in them not to pounce on you right then and there. but when you woke up, you were more than happy to fess up to stealing rick’s boxers to wear as shorts.

rick could barely contain himself one afternoon in alexandria. you were taking judith on a wholesome stroll but you were wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts with a soft, white long sleeve and one of rick’s white button ups thrown on. later, he had to explain to you that he wasn’t snubbing you when you caught sight of him and tried to wave him over, just trying to keep his zipper from busting.

you had just laughed and quipped that they were the perfect bottoms.

from then on, rick found his boxer shorts going missing; on runs, he’d found you in the men’s underwear section, stripping down to try on a pair of striped ralph lauren boxers. that’s how the two of you ended up sweating and shamelessly blushed out on the cramped car ride home.

the rose painting your countenance couldn’t cease because you knew you smelled like sex. rick too. from the creamy ring you’d left around his cock as he lifted you off of him and onto the mahogany sales table, you knew you two had overdone it. with the wide block of time you had today to secure supplies, rick felt free to fuck your pussy twice, filling you up enough to have you seen stars on the sales floor.

all because you’d styled his underwear as shorts.

daryl teases his friend about it.

“can’t even wake up without seein’ her in ‘em and gettin’ hard.”

daryl’s a hypocrite however.

even the woodsman isn’t immune to your figure in those boyish bottoms.

it’s twenty-five minutes into your small game hunt when daryl’s hands are in your boxers. you had actually wanted to catch a rabbit or some quail, but once your boyfriend’s fingers are between your folds, you can’t find the will to complain.

the two of you start with him holding you against a hemlock, arms wrapping around you while he fingers you nice and slow, boxers down around your ankles. as he massages your plush walls, daryl counts how casual you are about going commando as one of his blessings.

then it turns. then suddenly there’s a pine needle in your mouth. you spit the green thing out and try to brace yourself against the forest floor. it had happened so fast; his tongue tag teaming you with his fingers to crack you open like a safe in record time. then you were face down with nothing but a denim jacket quickly strewn beneath you.

you love when he or rick spring this kinda thing on you - it’s spontaneous, wild, a little risky in all the right ways. yes, most nights you’d prefer to be rolled up into a blanket burrito with your boys and a glass of wine but the adventures like this really do something for you.

pupils expanded, your chest is heavy when daryl’s the first to come out of your post-romp fog and collect your boxers. your legs are still shaking when the fabric touches your skin.

“daryl!”

you’d protested when the man began to pull up your boxer briefs. full of his cum, you want to clean up before you soil your bottoms but daryl disregards the swats to his hands. slightly annoyed, you hurried ahead of him through the tract of woods back towards alexandria. it’s fine. he just enjoyed the view of your ass.

complaints crawl out of your mouth as soon as you’re in the door and you’re haphazardly hanging your rifle on the wall. daryl brings in the rear behind you while you’re stomping up the stairs to rick.

your chocolate curled lover is taking off his watch, ready to drop it into the ceramic dish on the dresser when you appear next him, shimmying down your bottoms in a huff.

“hey, darlin’,” he greets, expecting more than a scowl from you.

“hey,” you reply curtly, face still in a pout.

“-make sure you don’t take off those boxers, baby-,” daryl stops dead in his tracks at the sight of your bared pussy in the bedroom lamplight. rick’s also taking it in, eyes trailing from your waist to the trimmed bush, and the puffy pink pussy peeking out, now leaking with daryl’s sticky cum.

you bend over to pick up the soiled shorts. “you’re not the only one who likes these,” you point out.

blue eyes narrow. but before he can give you any lip, you’re giving him not one, but both of yours. smashed against your mouth, rick’s tongue delves between those pillowy lips while walking you towards the bed where daryl’s waiting to situate you on his lap once more. daryl’s antics weren’t enough to turn off the blazing furnace between your legs. no, your temper can handle a few more rounds. it’s not hard when your mind paces back to the eye rolling, all consuming inferno that had cyclones through your core.

they trap you in a kiss. sandwiched between both of their hard ons, you’re shifting and grinding in each direction.

“thought you were pissed off with me,” daryl breathes into your ear, fingertips skimming your waist.

you snort, leaning back into him to grant full access to your bared neck. without hesitation, he’s licking a wicked pattern up the column of your neck. “dare’,” you sigh. gasp after gasp, you melt into his touch.

daryl’s hands are beneath the fat of your rear already and all of the sudden, one of rick’s fingers has snaked its way down to your clit. the fervid flicking against your ardor flush tissue culls any anger you could have towards the two men. you can’t even think about holding a grudge once rick gets a finger into you. at two fingers, daryl’s kissing you with the ferocity of a wildfire. three fingers inside of you and you’re babbling;

“rick, faster, please.”

“what was that?”

“please - faster, can you please?”

the grin on his face is as wide as the pacific. his lips turn upwards into a sly smile. “you want somethin’ a little faster, darlin’?” you shake your head as if it’s obvious. he hmmphs. “you oughta’ sit on daryl’s cock.”

you can’t imagine a world where that’s an unpopular idea.

back onto daryl you go.

those hands at your hips come in handy; daryl raises you a few inches once rick’s removed his fingers. eyes focused on rick and the way his mouth closes around one pruning finger. sucking it clean while daryl’s tip brushes your slick entrance. any yearning radiating off of you can’t be hidden. that kind of heat and wetness down between your thighs is no lie.

so a hiss is to be expected when the muscled man wiggles his way into you. rick is saving a mental image of you - adjusting to the familiar stretch of daryl. your blush doesn’t ease once daryl works another half inch inside.

one moment you’re trying to process daryl’s cock as it’s suddenly seated in you to the hilt. the next rick catches your gaze again. this time he’s doing more than teasing you, taking advantage of your parted lips to invade with his tongue.

“rick,” you mumble against his lips.

“you gettin’ close, angel?”

“should feel ‘er,” daryl rasps. with each thrust of his you’re clinging to rick. “so fuckin’ tight like you didn’t get this perfect pussy fucked in the woods.”

“that’s where you guys went?”

your mischevious grin is hidden in the crook of rick’s necks. the telltale tightening around daryl’s length is all consuming. your grin turns into an open “o” shape when daryl drags across your cervix. sensations from your convulsing core are consuming him too.

that same lust from the woods washes over daryl like the tide and you’re the moon, pulling him in and leading him to crash into you. usually this is rick’s wheelhouse, but one glance into daryl’s darkened pupils and you’re ripped from rick. on top of daryl’s lap, you’re wrapped in his arms, bouncing up and down on the rock hard cock beneath you. he sets the pace while you can only claw at his chest. he returns the favor and reaches forward to palm your tit, relishing in your sweet moans when he rolls a hardened bud between two fingers.

riding him on the bed is such a break for your knees compared to the forest floor. gyrating your hips activates not only the core that keeps you fit but the molten hot bundle of nerves at your core. daryl ruts against you deliciously to deliver just the perfect level of pressure.

rick can’t help but be bewitched at everything unfolding on the surface of the mattress. daryl’s length disappears inside out of you, reappearing with each erratic movement of your hips. there’s no reason to be jealous but if looks could kill, daryl’d be dead simply for the privilege of burying himself inside those heavenly walls.

meanwhile, heat bursts down below like a mini neutron star collision within you. forehead cast with sweat, the energy is fading from your movements as you messily move your pelvis to brush against daryl.

a “fuck, baby,” escapes from his lips and you’re done for. and so is he.

shooting into the sheets and collapsing by your side. you’re prepared to slide into daryl’s embrace when there’s suddenly a familiar feeling breaching your bared pussy.

nails dig into your hips and daryl’s back at it again - lapping his tongue up and down your slit. you were thinking that you two would at least catch your breaths but daryl’s taking no breaks. rick isn’t either.

in true rick fashion, he’s tapping your lips with his impressive cock. how can you say no to that?

you open your mouth and moan around his cock once you feel those devious fingers in your hair. it’s like that sense of overwhelm’s been replicated again. tongue against your clit and yours on the underside of rick, you never imagined your afternoon going this way. all this thanks to your little fashion trend.

“princess, your mouth feels amazing.”

you bob your head in appreciation. just like daryl’s taking care of you, you’re taking your time swallowing around the man in your mouth, treating him to the tight embrace of your throat.

“you like gettin’ a cock down your throat while daryl licks you stupid?”

“mhmmm!” you nod forward onto rick.

as soon as your moans reach daryl’s ears, his tongue’s kicking into hyperdrive. goaded by your delightful little whimpers, daryl begins swabbing a vicious pattern across your folds. the redneck alternates between racing over your sopping tissue to flattening that tongue and saddle you with a finger.

“ooommph,” is the only sound that comes out with rick’s steel hard cock down your throat.

spit slick, rick throbs in your mouth. that painful hardness he’s enduring is granted some sweet relief by your hollowed cheeks. you don’t stop there. driven by the lust addled, cock crazy part of your brain, you’re fully sending rick down your airway. breaths come briefly when he lets you up for air or to howl or cry, “dare’!”

right on time, your core is heating up again. the kiln inside of you scorches. neutralizing you, the ecstasy of another orgasm has you nearly folding into your leader. the blue eyed sheriff even leans back, tugging you up by the hair to keep you from actually choking on his cock. daryl’s diligent puckering around all of your important parts is overwhelming you against, a strategic hand on your clit as well.

as if you were all in sync, rick comes in your mouth first, fingers weaving through your gossamer locks while your thighs quake. you gag at first, before swirling your tongue under the twitching cock and swallowing it all. like a good girl.

once rick’s coming undone, daryl continues swirling his tongue around you. your pussy weeps for him. it contracts around his tongue until even rick’s raising his eyebrows at the vulgar slurping sounds filling the room.

“dare’,” you whine.

“gonna’ be a good girl and come all over dare’s tongue?” rick teases.

“yes, please!” you beg, banging a fist against the sheets.

“you gonna’ let daryl taste all of that perfect pussy?”

tears well in your eyes from the overstimulation but you nod as enthusiastically as possible. “pleeaase!”

you don’t have to ask again because you’re too busy arching into your third orgasm of the day. clenching and unclenching, your insides flutter. “ah!”

“so pretty when you come, baby.”

you’re dissolving into rick’s touch as your climax rings through your cunt. starry eyed and panting the pleasure out through your lungs.

you could fall asleep right there. and you do.

it ends as it always does.

following the flush and the lips leaving the surface of your skin, you feel a familiar fabric traveling up your thighs and double kisses mandating that nap that had been on your mind. the bed and the cozy comfort of sleep swallows you whole. rick too. he can never get close enough, not when you’re wearing his boxers.

[ponchcronch]

If I had a nickel for every time I had an alien with a portable pocket dimension who's likely the last of their kind as a comfort character, i'd have two nickels. /ref

[egophiliac]

finished up a pre-work warmup doodle, I promise someday I will draw characters other than Silver (look it's almost his birthday GOSH)

[transxfiles]

i just bawled my eyes out over this fucking book. girl wtf was that. GIRL.

[ruporas]

feeding the stray cat (ID in alt)

[taxinealkaloids]

harrianthe + sewing (variations on a theme)

[zylphiacrowley]

It was…not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you. -Mhairi McFarlane, You Had Me At Hello

The Beginning - next>

[shhhhimwatchingthis]

I feel like Tumblr has pulled a bit of Dracula Daily in that everyone is going back and watching Fox 2004-2012 drama House MD, at the same time. House, a show which was never, as far i remember early Tumblr, a major part of the fandom ecosystem when it aired

like if you put a gun to my head in 2013 and asked me which 2000's Sherlock Holmes adaptation would have a sincere heartfelt revival on tumblr in 2023, I would have been shot in the head for answering BBC Sherlock

[dicenete]

I never felt like this before I think I might just want some more I never felt like this before I think I might just

Slide, shake your bones out if you wanna ride Throw your head back, make you feel alive The kind of bad that make you feel good, good God, the kinda wrong that make you feel right The little death that make you feel alive The kinda shouldn't that mean that you should, should, should

It makes your blood run hot It makes your spit taste sweet It makes you feel more alive Than you have ever been Throw it into your mouth Gets stuck between your teeth Why would you die up there When you can live underneath? Dirty little animals Beautiful cannibals

Dirty Little Animals by Bones Uk Damn I love this song... The reason why I had the poll is the tonal whiplash these two snippets have... (I know there is still time for the poll, but I'm impatient person right now.) But the people have spoken and here is the scribble I promised : DD (apologies for all the typos and grammar errors...) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

"In the middle of the most extravagant party of the season, I certainly hope that I wasn't the only one who caught some intense stares between the two most sought-after suitors. The ever rude and barking, the first prince of Benitoite had insulted more than half of the eligible ladies of the ton before the first dance of the night had even finished its last steps. For our surprise, the seventh prince of our beloved kingdom of roses, didn't come and prey on the discouraged beautiful young women, being the rake that we all know and gossip about extensively. But instead he quickly went and offered a glass of fine rose liquor to with the most gentlest of gestures to the fellow prince and asked to join him away from the other guests. Now, it isn't a secret that the fox and the hound are very well acquainted with one another, seen quite often discussing the offers of the more fairer sex. Regardless I can't help but wonder, my dear readers, that were the looks exchanged between the princes something more intimate and playfully challenging than we have ever witnessed from these two ever? Or maybe it is just sly fox playing mind games with the hound of our allied nation? I'm certainly very curious to see if we can witness such looks again."

IkePri Fanart tag list: @scummy-writes @goustmilk @solacedeer @m-mmiy @mxrmaid-poet

@pawnkyyy

[oncasette]

could you write for taking care of andrew neiman when he's sick ? like he literally refuses to stop practicing even though he's feverish and coughing, so reader finally stops him and makes him lay down with her. maybe some cuddling/comfort?

"102.4," you say before you remove the thermometer from between his lips. there's a thick sheen of sweat coating his face and sticking his bangs to his forehead. you know some of it's from his drumming, having had to literally drag him off of his kit nearly an hour ago, but you also know most of it is from the fever coursing through his veins.

you don't think you'd ever seen your boyfriend looking so pitiful.

"that's... normal," he says, but he's so unconvincing you don't think he'd argue if you fought him on that fact.

he whines as you step away from him, hand coming up to reach out for you as you walk toward the linen closet to grab a wash rag. you run it under the faucet just enough to saturate the fabric before you bring it back to him to place over his forehead.

"do you want me to get you anything to drink?" you ask. he shakes his head, a wet cough rumbling out of his throat that he softly apologizes for after.

"i need to get back to work," he mumbles.

"drew, honey," you say. "you're sick."

"i know," he says. he looks over at where his drums are sitting in the corner of the living room and you force his gaze back on you.

"you know this is your body's way of telling you to take a break."

"i know," he groans. "but fletcher gave us new material this morning and i need to have it down by tomorrow."

"i will go down to that school and kick his ass if i have to. you need to rest," you say. he offers you a weak chuckle, dragging your body further into his by your hips.

"will you lay with me, at least?" he asks.

"of course."

[ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously]

[stoneshipper]

for self shippers who fall asleep super easily...

imagine falling asleep unexpectedly against your f/o. they'd be used to how fast you fall asleep and find it incredibly endearing. if they're constantly having to wake you up and get you to bed so you can sleep properly, they'd do so with an affectionate smile on their face. alternatively, if they're the type to carry you to bed if you fall asleep against them, they'd give you a soft kiss as a sign of affection as they make sure you're comfortable enough to sleep through the night ᯓ★

dividers made for me by kynibyou! ✦ prosh¡p dni.

[alackofghosts]

boop :]

[forgetriestowrite]

yall i had no idea who the Archeart even was before Downfall and now they are one of my favorite NPC's and that is almost entirely because of Abu's portrayal

i don't even have words in my brain right now just screaming