#with just to kind of flesh out the world a little more in a more natural-ish seeming way. Like nobody in the main cast would really

[scribblestatic]

Eyo, back on my amputee!SY agenda bullshit

Lesgo.

Prev: Part 2

---

When Luo Binghe married Shen Yuan, he was named the First Husband. But now, with his new crowning, he'll become the Empress, a position given to none of Luo Binghe's wives, not even in PIDW. Though, he's already come to terms with the fact the world isn't the same as the book.

Mostly. It's still perhaps a bit too easy for him to suggest torture for someone despite his modern world sensibilities because it's easier to think of anyone facing against his husband (AAAAAAAAAA) as some no-name NPC rather than someone with a whole life full of experiences.

But anyway, he's becoming an empress. Which is wild to him.

And it dusts up a lot of his insecurities. And not, like, the kind where someone asks their significant other if they would still love them if they were a worm. No, it's more along the lines of, "Hey, would you still love me if it turned out my soul wasn't transmigrated at all, but was simply, like, disconnected from itself and I really am Shen Jiu, but I also lived as and firmly feel like I'm Shen Yuan, but some piece of me really had done all those terrible things to make your innocent life more miserable?"

He pops the question while Binghe's combing oil through his hair, his left eye gazing anxiously at the bronze mirror to look at the demon emperor's expression.

Luo Binghe thinks, humming a little as he doesn't falter while combing his hair.

"...Would Shizun love me if I killed some of my wives?"

"Huh?"

"Would A'Yuan love me if I killed some of my wives?"

"I mean...sure? I'm sure you'd have a reason for it."

"Then, would A'Yuan hate me if I killed and ate demons in the Endless Abyss?"

"What? No. Survival was extremely difficult. You only did what you had to do."

"And if I still had a taste for demon flesh?"

Shen Yuan's face scrunches, but his response is still immediate.

"Then, I suppose we could find which ones you liked? I mean, I don't think I could do it with you, and we'd need to respect their personhood. So, maybe we could find a group where cannibalism is a norm for them? I think that'd be difficult...ah! We could also see if the Red-Dipped Manfruit could be bred to taste like the demon's flesh. Demons that eat humans use it for minor sustenance when natural human flesh isn't available, so surely--"

Ah, his expression had scrunched more with thought than disgust. Luo Binghe doesn't interrupt as he goes on his continued tangent, smiling as he listens. He only speaks again after he seems to be trailing to another subject.

"Then," he pauses, leaning forward and looking down at Shen Yuan, "if A'Yuan can love this one as I am, even at my ugliest, how could this emperor not love my A'Yuan at his most beautiful?"

Shen Yuan stares up at him, his lips slightly open as he listens, as he sees the depths of the light and love in Binghe's dark eyes.

"Even if you are Shen Jiu, back then, this disciple wanted the affection you now freely give. I have always cared for and about you, for better or worse. And your attention was always on me, for better or worse. This Binghe likes to think that, now, we care for each other, not just for the better, but for the best."

"Ah..."

Shen Yuan stares up a bit longer before he quickly turns away. Binghe puts the comb down as he hears a sniffle, and when he kneels beside his seat, he pushes the long, inky black hair away from Shen Yuan's eye, catching sight of his ruddy cheeks and the mistiness in his eye.

"...Shameless."

"Indeed, I am. A'Yan should punish me."

He just shakes his head, and he doesn't lean away when Binghe leans forward and kisses his lips. They linger softly, pulling apart slowly as they share each other's breathes. Their faces remain too close for them to see each other properly, lips still just barely touching.

"...Then, I'll only kiss you two more times," Shen Yuan mumbles.

Luo Binghe chuckles.

"How cruel."

They only remember to get back to combing Shen Yuan's hair several minutes later.

--

The remains of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect had not been invited to Shen Yuan's crowning ceremony, but they still heard of it happening regardless.

Demons, previously unaccustomed to some of the more casual aspects of living with their means more easily available, and humans, always seeking new methods of entertainment, became very entranced with the gossip surrounding Demon Emperor Luo's harem. The fact pieces of it were steadily dissolving had originally been a gripe against him, as though he was losing his touch. However, when some of the wives were members of their own race or species and they returned without harm and with a hefty sum of money, well, the bridges hadn't been burned, and suddenly, "losing his touch" simply became "being less loose" or "finding lasting love."

So now, with the crowning ceremony ramping up, of course the gossip mills were churning at rapid speeds. Eventually, word of who would become empress despite the emperor's known track record of wives was absolutely scandalous.

"His shizun, of all people?"

"The one he had imprisoned, even."

"Must've driven the man mad."

"I don't know... I saw them recently. Shen Qingqiu looked quite sane."

"He has no limbs and is missing an eye, he can't be that sane anymore."

"He certainly wasn't groveling. If anything, he seemed quite untouched. Save for...well..."

"His eye is quite sharp, and he is quick-witted. I don't think he would be bad for an empress."

"The cultivation sects are going to implode."

And, just like the news of the crowning ceremony spread around, so too did the news that Cang Qiong Mountain Sect sent a letter to Demon Emperor Luo, demanding an audience in light of his proposal to a lord from their sect.

It was, to many demons and a few humans, a wasted, and perhaps misguided, effort. Yet, they wouldn't protest against the meeting.

It would be incredibly entertaining, after all.

---

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3: here

[nightlyrequiem]

Hello dere :3

small request b4 they close ‼️‼️ could we have some Valeria x designer reader? I think it would be tooth-rottingly sweet for Valeria to reluctantly try on everything her girlfriend makes -- from ballgowns to suits.

And designer reader fucking adores her, and constantly makes her fancy clothes, with colours perfectly, primmly picked out to match Valerias skintone, eyecolour, manicure, tattoos, and all.

Hello hello hello :3 Valeria would definitely try on whatever thing Reader has made at her request. She's this strong, brute of a woman but with you? Oh, she's just so soft. It helps that your designs are so well done too.

Also, much apologies for the wait 🫂

Designer!Reader x Valeria

Out of the two of you, you're definitely the more fashionable one. You can take one look at someone and already know what colour or style would suit them best. Valeria doesn't care all that much about matching patterns and colours and what goes best with her undertone. You do though. Valeria is your favourite person in the world and such a good model too.

You've made a few designs inspired by her. Pieces with little scorpion inspired details. Snake details. Any animal you can vaguely associate with her. You make Valeria try on every single one.

You like to make pieces based off of animals in general. Foxes, cats, moths, peacocks, swans. Those are Valeria's favourite to model for you. The peacock one in particular. There's something so special about seeing your eyes light up as you see your ideas in the flesh. Or rather, on flesh.

She acts like she doesn't like doing it, but secretly she enjoys how much you hype her up. She struts down the hallway of your shared home in elegant gowns and dresses and suits that she'd otherwise never wear. A part of her wishes she had more time or the safety to dress up but in her line of work she has to stay lowkey. The less attention the better.

I've heard bigger chested girls have a harder time finding dresses and tops that fit them properly. (I wouldn't know because I'm not even pushing a B cup. 👎) Now, it's no secret that Valeria's chest is on the bigger side. She's found quite a few tops and dresses that she loved in her size, only issue was, they didn't fit her chest right. So, you being her loving girlfriend with the ability to sew, tailors her clothes.

You tailor her pants too. Adding on extra pockets for her and secret sheathes for her weapons.

Back to designing. In your expert opinion, Valeria suits dark red and green the best. Most of the pieces you've made for her specifically heavily features those colours. Some are pink though, to pay respect to her favourite colour.

Valeria has let you dedicate an entire room to your hobby. Mannequins, shelves full of all kinds of fabrics, needles and pins, a sewing machine, an iron and ironing board. Valeria partially regrets that decision for the sheer amount of time you spend in it. Although it's great when she's too busy to be with you.

Valeria has one suit that you made her that she wears for every formal occasion. Never during a cartel meeting, because she simply doesn't respect anyone enough to dress up, but for dates or events. Dark red and tailored to perfection, severe lines to match her sharp attitude. You wish she'd wear some of the other things you've made but you can't bring yourself to complain when she looks that good. It's like she was born to wear that suit.

[bunnieswithknives]

sorry if idk this but what do you think about Wordgirl now in 2024 do you still like it do you still want to make art or talk about it or are you just done with all of it forever and plus i seen that you haven't made art of it since 2022 so you just done with all of it oh yeah and what about The Magnus Archives + Wordgirl ao3 fic too like is that just going to be and i know that your working on 2 au's now just wanting to know that's all

My interests tend to come in intense bursts and then fade. Unless something like, big happens like it gets a reboot its unlikely I'll be coming back to it anytime soon. As for the fic I don't have any current plans to finish it unfortunately.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[milf-harrington]

where im at mentally these days: my mum hugged me and said im doing a good job and i burst into tears <3

[nomaishuttle]

the way that literally every aspect of the horse ranch expansion pack either was covered by/shouldve been included in a different pack. Lol.. horses shouldve been in pets or cottage living sheeps and goats shouldve been in cottage living the build style is cottage living and strangerville the clothing style is cottage living and strangerville likeee. the world is pretty but its also ely similar to some of the other worlds we have. and nectar making is a completely seperate skill from that juice skill or whatever. IDK

[ikemenomegas]

the myy oc is simultaneously the one to make obnoxious little squeeing noises whenever megumi does literally anything and make tsumiki bring along disposable cameras on vacation because it's the only way to get her to admit what she's *actually* looking at, and the one to literally puke in the bushes or hide against a wall when Satoru does something that gives them secondhand embarrassment

literally the can't take it but can dish it out guardian XD

[nomairuins]

also its so dumb that one of the arguments ppl have against a sims 5 is that theyve already invested too much money into ea. like yes its fucking scummy that ea charges so much for dlc and its Ludicrous the amt sims 4 costs if you have all the cc and its going to keep getting more and more expensive but . to be honest . why are you paying for sims packs. im sry

[lanternlightss]

today i have thought sm about my beloved oc’s mel and cerelia and i am feeling so completely normal about them (this is a lie i am so unwell)

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[yanderenightmare]

TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility, murder of unnamed characters, mentions of potentially killing reader

fem reader

Just thinking about the apocalypse, the two army men who’ve long survived it in their shelter with barely any trouble, and then you, a poor girl trying hard to outrun your last captives only to run into them.  

You didn’t realize back then that it was like trading piranhas for sharks, too caught up in begging for their aid to think better of it. You should have just kept running, but your ankle was sprained badly, maybe even broken, and you were wearing so little you would most likely have died from the cold during the night if they hadn’t taken you in.

It seems unfair of them to have kept the giant bunker all to themselves, only the two of them, but you don’t judge. You would likely have kept it all to yourself as well.

This new world has bred new humans, and they’re all monsters. It’s honestly quite surprising they’d even let you in, given this is what they’re protecting, this sanctuary from the past, a comfort most people would kill their closest friend in exchange for.

Trust is all but dead, and so is honor or any other morality—you would know, you’ve lived out there for it all, only having survived by spreading your legs at the right moments. It’s a shameful tactic, and many times, you’ve wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to spare yourself and just die. What was the purpose?

This—you think. This must be it. They have showers and working hot water.

You don’t know how it’s possible—the original owners of the shelter must have been some type of millionaire. You haven’t had a warm shower since the world went to shit—years ago. It’s been a choice of waiting for rain or finding a lake, hoping it wasn’t rancid. Meanwhile, they have soap—scented soap, the lush kind you’d forgotten existed. It feels so nice you have to cry—rejoice—sobbing while lathering yourself, watching all the filth go down the drain, leaving you smooth-skinned once again for the first time in forever. You can’t remember having ever been so clean before, feeling reborn.

They have fresh clothes for you too—new socks and underwear, all clean fabrics, so much more than what you wore—pants, a shirt, and a sweater to keep warm. You didn’t know there still existed people who lived like the old days—you’d thought it was long gone, a bittersweet dream you sometimes have the pleasure of at night instead of the usual nightmares. Never had you thought you’d experience anything even remotely similar, but here you are—looking yourself in the mirror after so long, surprised to see a human looking back at you.

And they feed you. Not scraps, not leftovers, not rot, or days-old flesh from the last successful hunt—but freshly baked bread, vegetables, fruit—for fuck’s sake, they even have juice. You cry again while eating, and then you find yourself begging them again, “Please, let me stay—please, I’ll do anything. I can cook, clean, work—anything at all, I can do it, just please let me stay…”

You’re on your knees, forehead pressed to the heated metal floors—toasty and comforting, you think you could sleep better than ever right there.

“We’ll think about it,” one of them mutters as he gathers the plates. His voice was so harsh he might as well have said, not a chance. It’s clear by his frown that he’d rather send you right out again, leave you to the monsters.

“We’ll at least let you stay until your ankle heals, so don’t worry.” The other is more sympathetic, helping you up. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind that they’d have beds—actual real soft downy mattresses and duvets and pillows. The two of you help make it together. It feels so foreign that you wonder if you might have died earlier. Some years back, you wouldn’t have thought heaven would resemble a prison cell, but now it only made sense—safe metal walls and a bed. What more could one possibly want in the world?

“I’ll wrap your leg for you if you sit.” He holds out a bandage roll, gesturing to your ankle.

Blinking, you can’t even register what he’d just offered until he’s getting down on his knees before you.

You panic, then. Bandages are hard to come by—it hardly seems worth it. “There’s no blood, you shouldn’t waste it—”

“It’ll heal better and faster this way,” he adds reassuringly. His voice is so soft and compelling that you find yourself sitting down without further quarrel, even when it makes you feel spoiled.

He’s gentle with you—holding you steady while wrapping it just tightly enough to be supportive. There hasn’t been a man who’s touched you like it.

“Does that feel okay?”

You can barely tell he’s talking to you. It’s all so lost on you that you can only wordlessly nod your head.

He fastens it just as carefully before standing. “Is there anything else you might need?”

You shake your head just as wordlessly. You can’t believe how nice he’s being. It makes no sense at all. Not in this world. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to lock the door,” he apologizes with a sheepish look once standing on the threshold.

You’d been stuck thinking about how warm the room was, trying to remember a single time you hadn’t been freezing during the night. “That’s okay, I understand,” you say. After all, what’s a locked door in comparison?

“Good,” he smiles—it’s likely the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, good night.”

Once again, you’re left stunned. The last time you’d heard those words spoken must have been from a loved one long since dead. It makes your lip wobble again as you say it back, “Good night.”

It's strange—they could have left you for dead but didn’t. They don’t seem gullible—they can’t be if they’ve managed to protect this place for so long—but you suppose there still exist men who have a soft spot in their hearts for helpless damsels in distress.

As you sink into the comfort, draping your duvet atop your battered body, you don’t even care about the camera in the ceiling—blinking red while watching you.

“Did you have to bandage her up?” he grumbles as the other walks into the bedroom after having said his goodnights to you. 

He’s already in bed, observing through the cameras on a tablet—you were currently curling into the duvet, wrapping it around you close for comfort. You’d likely not slept on anything so soft in a while—it wouldn’t surprise him if you preferred the floor. But no, you drift asleep quite quickly.

“You know how badly things can heal without proper support,” the other answers, regarding it as no big deal. “And besides, it’s not like we often need it—we have plenty to spare.”

He removes his clothes and crawls onto the bed as well, lifting the covers to slot himself right next to the other man, who still has a scowl on his face.

“Oh, come on…” he drawls. “She’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, isn’t she?”

The grump doesn’t answer, still with keen eyes watching you, even as you’ve fallen asleep—as if waiting for you to do something befitting a wild animal in a cage. The other’s eyes fall to the screen as well, but he only awes in delight.

“Look at her, already fast asleep,” he purrs while zooming in on your face. “I mean, did you see how she was begging earlier, what she said? I’d do anything,” he continues, almost whining. “So cute, I could have fucked her right then and there.”

The other man sets the tablet aside with a disagreeing sigh. “We’ll wait at least a week for her system to detoxify from the wasteland,” he says strictly. “I’m not touching her before then, and neither are you unless you want to sleep alone.”

The other groans then, flopping down on his back. “Yeah, yeah, you and your safety protocols,” he dismisses before a smirk creeps up his face, glee twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at his grouchy counterpart. “But then we keep her, right?”

“Tch—we don’t even know if she’s fertile. The wasteland could have made her barren as long as she’s been out there,” the other shuffles down into the sheets as well, turning to look at his partner and the awfully keen look on his face.

“So we test her. Give her a medical check,” he says, again as if it’s not a problem, even when it very well could turn out to be.

They’ve already broken quarantine rules by letting you in here—and who knows what your real objectives truly are.

“I don’t trust her,” he states.

The other pouts. “I don’t see what one little lady can do—she’s hardly a threat. And we already purged the group that was following her. I doubt any of them made it out alive.”

True, he had gone out and sent several gas grenades into the settlement. Surely, none of them managed to escape, but then again—

“Pest control only works when you kill them all, and we’ve just let one inside our own house,” he grumbles.

The other one sighs. “Okay, so if it turns out she isn’t as cute as she looks, we’ll deal with her like the rest. But if I’m right, and she really is just a harmless little thing, we keep her, and I get to have the first go.”

Suppose there isn’t anything better to do aside from killing you straight away, which would only have been a waste of food, water, clothes, and bandages. 

“Fine.”

The other grins at the agreeance, humming, “I guess until then, we’ll just have to make do with each other—I've been hard since we watched her shower.” He leans forward for contact but is shut down as his bedmate rolls around with his back turned to him.

“Tch—take care of it yourself.” Tonight has been too stressful to tug each other’s dicks. 

He can hear him whine behind him, but he settles down soon enough.

Suppose it would be nice fucking a woman again. It’s been so many years he figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. They’ve made do with each other so far. But even he can’t deny, once you’d washed all the blood and muck off, once he saw the dewy hue of your soft skin and the silk of your hair, all those plush curves, and not to mention that awfully sweet look on your face—he felt the tug in his pants too.

He'll do a medical check on you tomorrow. He hopes you’re fertile. But even if you’re not, he might give in to the other’s wishes and keep you anyway. After all, they might have many luxuries, but the comfort of pussy is one they haven’t had in a long, long, long time.

♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta, ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[felassan]

"If you don't romance characters in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, they'll find other partners for themselves

"Some characters may be a little more steamy..."

---

"Dragon Age: The Veilguard features a far more fleshed out romance and relationship system than in previous BioWare games, the developer has told Eurogamer - including the ability for party members to go off and find their own love interests, should you not be interested yourself. Speaking to Eurogamer's deputy editor Chris Tapsell at an event in LA this week, The Veilguard's creative director John Epler revealed more of the game's relationship system. "In Dragon Age games, BioWare games, romance is a core part," Epler said. "We wanted to give each character their own flavour, or their own style, of romance. So some characters may be a little more steamy while some characters maybe a little bit more innocent. But for each one, you can build these relationships. "And what's interesting in this game is, if you don't romance characters, they may decide to find their own romances for themselves, whether within the team or within the world itself." It's reminiscent somewhat of how Shepard could walk in on Garrus and Tali locked in a kiss towards the end of Mass Effect 3 - but only if you had chosen not to show romantic interest in either one beforehand. What sounds like another improvement from previous BioWare games is how a character's romance arc will be better woven into their own personal story arc, and their involvement with The Veilguard's core questline. BioWare has also worked to ensure that getting to know your characters as friends feels just as satisfying - and that just because you're not banging your buddy, their (platonic) relationship with you will still continue. "One of the things we tried to do with The Veilguard is it's not just romantic relationship building," Epler continued. "You need to get to know a person before you can really build that kind of relationship with them, and if you choose not to build a [romantic] relationship, we never want to feel like you're being cut off. There's no 'okay, well, their arc isn't progressing, I'm done'. "We want to make sure the non-romantic relationships are deep as well, with friendships not just for companions and yourself, but also between companions across the party." For much more on Dragon Age: The Veilguard, be sure to read Eurogamer's full preview of the game's opening hour, as well as much more from Epler on lessons learned for BioWare's present - and future."

[source]

[promisingyounglady]

watermelons. | JS x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.

PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.

He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.

And by the girls, he means your tits.

Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.

And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.

The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.

“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.

“Back off, Bradshaw”

And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.

“Hi sweetheart”

It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.

“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.

“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.

And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.

All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.

That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.

“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.

He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.

“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.

You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”

Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.

You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.

“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.

Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.

“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.

The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.

The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.

Jake Seresin was a tits guy.

So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.

You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.

“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”

He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.

“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.

you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.

You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.

“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.

[dollfacefantasy]

wearing leon's hoodie during sex… he’s fucking u from behind and pushes the hoodie up to reveal your back… he grabs the top of the hoodie for leverage, and to pull you closer…

uh huh uh huh. i see your vision so here's a little drabble <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

It starts when Leon comes home from running some errands. He's kind of riled up. There was traffic, it was too cold out, there was people everywhere, and it seemed like he was the only one who knew what he was doing. He slams the front door and tosses his keys on the counter, letting out an irritated sigh and stomping up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

But there you are. His baby. Tucked away safe from the rest of the world. His beam of sunshine among the gray clouds that pollute the sky today.

You're laying on the bed, curled up with a blanket and gazing at the tv with only half your attention. Long legs lie exposed, soft from the strawberry scented lotion you'd lathered them in. Best of all, you're wearing his hoodie. An article of his clothing.

He tries to be casual about getting what he wants. He attempts pleasantries, acts like the shedding of his clothes is innocent. He's only doing it to be comfy enough to join you in your lazy day.

Not even thirty minutes later though, you're face down, head pressed to the pillow, ass raised in the air. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he sheaths himself all the way inside you. You whine as your hole stretches around his length, accepting the intrusion. Your fingers claw at the fluffy blanket beneath you as he starts thrusting.

In and out, back and forth. It seems like each time he hits a new pleasure spot or coaxes another needy whine from your lips.

"That's right, baby. Feels so good, doesn't it?" he grunts as he pumps his cock as deep as it can go within you.

"Mhm," you whimper your voice shaky.

"Uh huh," he agrees. The sound of him panting combined with the slap of his skin on yours overwhelms your brain. "Who's fucking you this good, honey? Who's got you making all those cute little noises?"

The response is automatic. "You," you choke out as your body rocks with his momentum.

"Who?" he prompts you, wanting specificity.

Your words falter for a moment under the pressure of him rutting into your soaked cunt, but you regain the ability to speak before he could ask again.

"Leon," you whine, dragging out the ending sound.

He mumbles some words of praise, but they fly right over your head. His thoughts weren't on what he was saying either. He was much more focused on hearing you cry out his name while his eyes locked on the space between your shoulder blades.

On the fabric of the hoodie in that area, Kennedy was emblazoned in vinyl. It stood out in bright white on the soft black cloth. You were his. There was the physical and verbal proof. He pistons into you at a quicker speed as the primal part of his brain starts to take over. The part that just wanted to claim you and keep you as his own held the reins now.

Your eyes start to gloss up as thoughts melt away in your brain and drip from your mouth as drool. Your cheek squishes further into the mattress below. Everything is getting to that point where it feels fuzzy and far away. And you're content with that. You're content to just melt into a puddle of euphoria on the bed, but Leon had other ideas for you.

He bunches the hood of his hoodie together, handling it like he would a leash. Then with a firm tug, you're straight up on your knees. Your back is arched so your ass is flush against his pelvis while your head bobbles around near his.

"Oh fuck, baby..." you cry, "So fucking deep now."

He chuckles and yanks you even closer. The new angle did have him even further within you. If it wasn't for his hand supporting you, there was no doubt in your mind you'd flop forward and face plant into the memory foam.

His hips snap as though they're possessed, not stopping for the slightest break. Both of you are starting to work up a sweat, you a little more so from the thick fabric that covered your upper half.

"Mhm. All the way inside you. And I'm the only one who's ever gonna feel this," he mumbles.

"Only you," you agree without a second thought.

You can't speak anymore than that because your voice has devolved into pure moaning. Soft little cries of ecstasy leave you over and over as he fills you up just as many times.

"Want you to cum for me, baby. Milk me fucking dry so I can mark you on the inside too," he mutters.

And that's all it takes really. The thought of being claimed so thoroughly does it for you, and you seize up on command. Every part of you contracts and tightens up, including your pussy, locking him in.

That's what does it for him. The knowledge that you want to be claimed, that you love that you're all his. He shoots all his release inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.

Afterwards, he takes care to clean you up, actually ask about your day while he gets you comfy again. The sweat-soaked hoodie ends up in the laundry, and the two of you curl up in bed, together this time. If he didn't get off on the possessive part of this whole thing so much, he'd probably just buy you one of those hoodies for yourself. You were gonna be a Kennedy in no time anyways.

[yandere--stuck]

NEED to know your thoughts on a yandere bill cipher

⚠️ Listen, pal, I KNOW why you're reading this. You've got a crush on YOURS TRULY! That's right, buddy, the cat's outta the bag! Well, not like the cat was ever really in the bag to begin with. What? Didn't think my all-seeing eye would spy you making goo-goo eyes at artistic depictions of me? AHAHA, aw, hey! Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not like I can blame you, I mean, have you met me? A winning personality, great sense of humor, beautiful singing voice - I'm a total catch! And between you and me, you have better taste than the rest of your species’ population.

👁 There are probably numerous reason why you like stuff like this: The obsession, the possessive behavior, the VIOLENCE. Sure sounds like romance to ME! But as for you… Is it the abandonment issues? Lack of validation in your life? Feeling misunderstood and ostracized by the world? Loneliness? A desire for an escape into a fictional world? Or are you like me? Is romance just no good without the true passion of twisted devotion and obsession? There's no need to LIE! We're kindred spirits, you and I.

⚠️ I know just how you feel. You've been kicked down, laughed at, and made to feel small. You've gone unappreciated by blind MORONS who wouldn't know greatness if it melted their eyeballs out their ears. Because you are MEANT for greatness. You are meant for something more, and I bet it burns you to know that. That you're better than all of them. That they're nothing without you, and they DESERVE nothing. They deserve to BE nothing. I know just how you feel because I was in your place. Surrounded by flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams. HA, and I sure showed them. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW, HUH? ME!!!!!!

👁 The point is, I know you. I've had my eye on you for quite a while, kid. Q U I T E A W H I L E. And might I say, out of all the flesh bags that have clogged my vision over the centuries, YOU'RE clearly the best looking outta all of ‘em, hot stuff. But looks aren't everything, of course! You've got a personality to match. Gotta admit, it's cute how you get so invested in your interests, the little hobbies you pick up, just watching you go about your day is like the universe’s greatest reality TV show starring my favorite person in the multiverse! OH, I could just decaptiate you and nuzzle your fleshy little head in an approximation of a kiss right now!!!

⚠️ So, c'mon, just let me in. Shake my hand! Let's make a deal. No matter how big or small! And it’s not just for the purpose of liberating your dimension, no. I want to really get under your skin. To feel what it's like to be in the body of my favorite person. As close as two beings can get, closer than you can get with unworthy specimens of your own kind, more intimate than any experience in the world. I want to be that close to you. Because you're mine. You're MY HUMAN and NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. Y'HEAR ME?

👁 So, you might as well accept that you and me are destined, kid. The signs are all there. So, if I were you (and I could be, if you'd just let me), I'd do this the easy way. Because right now, there's two ways this can go down. The easy way: You summon me, and we make a deal. Anything your precious human heart desires - and more! You'll be my precious human pet, my puppet, my toy. Mine to own and have rule beside me! You'll prove everyone who put you down wrong! Anything you want - love, money, fame, worship, vengeance - it'll all be yours, and I'll give it to you. Because I want you to be happy. Because I want what's best for you. Because I’M the only one who actually cares about you. Everything you wanted will be yours. And there'll be an eternal party to celebrate our eternal love… Or, you could do this the hard way. Cause I'm gettin’ outta here one way or another. And when I do, well… I don't think you'd like being locked up in The Love Cage to be TORTURED until you reciprocate my feelings and see the light. I'd say I wouldn't want to, but that'd be lying. So, it's probably not a good idea to give me more of a reason to. So, whaddaya say? You know you deserve the best. Shake my hand and join the winning team. Either way, you're mine.