#you get the juices flowin

[wnightingales]

EMI THE WAY YOU WRITE DIALOGUE MAKES ME SO FERAL. I FEEL SO MANY THINGS

first off we’ve got Tender HangMatt, the best kind of HangMatt even though I don’t think those two are your fave pairing and it was probably unintentional agsjgsh

and then we’ve got Adam Cole who is like right??? about this??? absolutely right! Hangman can never be friends with more than one group of people. maybe that’s because it’s all he ever trusts himself with? more that one group means he’ll inevitably hurt one of them, in his mind. but then that’s what actually happens when he switches between groups with the intent of giving all of himself to whatever group he is part of at the time. Hangy gives all of himself in everything he does, and he doesn’t yet know how to divide himself for healthy friendships.

Post-Elite Reunion

Characters: Hangman Adam Page, Adam Cole, the Elite. Dark Order mention.

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Hangman needs a moment. Cole can't help himself.

Author's Note: Reunion highs are short-lived and the angst is fucking real.

It had been a night of epic highs. The pop of the crowd when Hangman returned, the swelling in his chest when he affirmed himself as a member of the Elite again for the first time in four years. The sweet moment when they went off the air and it was just him, his boys, and the crowd, for the first time in a long time.

He was happy, again. He felt whole. Complete.

It didn’t hit him until he’d taken a piss break - come back, realized Kenny knew about the Nod, forgave them - just how much he’d gone through in the past four years without them. How much pain and suffering and heartache he’d dealt with, not just in their absence, but in his own.

The high began to crash down around him, and he knew he needed a moment alone.

Nick and Matt were chattering happily to each other, backpacks and suitcases in tow, ready to find the nearest Wendy’s and fuck shit up, when Hangman held back. Kenny was a few paces ahead of him, and he stopped immediately when Hangman stopped walking. He gave him an inquisitive look, but he didn’t ask.

Softly, Hangman spoke. “I’ll…catch up with you guys in a few. I need a few minutes.”

“You sure?” Nick said. “We can wait up if you want.”

Matt watched him like a momma bear. Worried. Unsure. His hands held tightly to his backpack so he wouldn’t reach out to touch Hanger’s arm. He wondered silently to himself if Hangman was already regretting his decision to come back to them. Wondered what, in the span of an hour or so, he’d done to screw this up.

Hangman forced a small smile. “I’m good, really. Just. Need a second. Go on.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Kenny’s voice pulled Matt out of his silent panic, the gentle nudge at his arm careening his legs forward to walk away.

They hopped in the rental, Brandon meeting them with a happy grin. “Right, let’s go fuck up a Wendy’s!”

Matt looked out the window, watching Hangman’s shoulders sag deeply as he walked back inside the arena.

Hangman found a dark corner and sat there, head between his legs. He tried to breathe, in through his nose, out through his mouth, but it was getting more and more difficult with the tears threatening to flow from his eyes. (Er, his one good eye.)

He was so caught up in his own head that he didn’t even realize that someone had appeared in the dark and sat down next to him, until he felt the heat of the stranger’s warmth next to his body.

Adam Cole was the warmest person he knew.

Which was. A genuine surprise, given how he’s died before.

“So…back in the Elite, huh?” he asked, and somehow, it made Hangman shiver. It was baffling to him how warm Cole could be, and yet every word out of his mouth always felt like a numbingly cold dagger to his heart. Maybe the only symptom of Cole’s death was that his words could kill.

“Yeah,” Hangman choked out, wiping at his eye before pulling himself from between his own legs. “Yeah, sure am.”

Cole let a long pause play out between them. Hangman leaned his head back against the wall, looking as far up as he could.

“Are you happy?” Cole asked, when the silence had grown very deep and Hangman had almost gotten used to it.

The smile that spread across Hangman’s lips was real. It was real because it happened without him even knowing. Cole’s blue eyes watched it for any sign of weakness, and he couldn’t find any.

“I am happy,” Hangman whispered, pulling his legs a little closer and settling his head on them, so he could look at Cole and show him he meant it. Because he did, and he wanted someone to know. Cole was here, and he knew him better than most. “More than I’ve been in…a while.”

Cole looked away from his smile, finally. Ran his tongue across his lips and bit down on his lower lip. He ran a hand through his hair, and Hangman noticed him take a deep breath.

“That’s really too bad,” Cole started, and these were not the words Hangman was expecting at all. “Because you being happy…it came at a price, you know.”

A deep, heavy stone settled in the pit of Hangman’s stomach, and his mouth went dry. Confused, he searched for an explanation. “What - what does that even mean-?”

“You’re not a very good friend, are you?” Cole asked. Dagger. “You can’t ever be friends with more than one group of people at the same time, huh?” After dagger. “You always find a way to unburden yourself so that you only have to worry about a few people at a time.” After dagger.

Hangman couldn’t even breathe. Every nerve in his body had tensed.

“You always find a way to do the least amount of emotional work.”

Hangman swallowed.

“When are you going to learn?”

His nose flared at the words. Familiar to him. When are you going to learn, Hangman? When are you going to learn?

Cole scoffed. “You hurt the Dark Order, man. They're upset.”

That stung.

Cole continued. “Have you even texted them? Talked to them?”

Hangman couldn’t say anything. Because he hadn’t. Hadn’t said a word. But he was beginning to feel something else, as well. Because who was Adam Cole to tell Hangman what being a bad friend was?

“I guess the Elite is still the same. Selfish assholes who don’t give a shit who they hurt. And they’re gonna bring you down with them. Again.” Dagger through the heart.

“You know what? That’s enough,” Hangman started, “because who the hell are you to tell me what a good fucking friend is?” He gazed at Cole with his good eye, the wrath clear upon his face. If Cole was going to hurt him, he wasn’t going to be the only one.

Cole looked away, jaw set.

“You tried to kill Nick, keep Kenny out of the country, and for what? So you could be the de-facto leader?” Hangman rolled his eyes. “And when you couldn’t do it with us, you went somewhere else and did it with another group of people who would follow you to the ends of the earth because they couldn’t see how fucked up you really are.”

He couldn’t believe Hangman would say that. That’s not true, Cole wanted to say. They knew how fucked up I was. How fucked up you made me. They didn’t care. They loved me anyway.

Cole began to protest, but Hangman cut him off. “And then they followed you here, you tried to do the same thing with Matt and Nick, and when you realized they were never gonna trust you the way they trust me, you got rid of them.”

“At least I know what to do with people who won’t ever trust me,” Cole said, calmly as he could. His entire body was vibrating with anger, but he wouldn’t let Hangman see it. “At least I know who to drop. I know who’ll have my back no matter what, but you choose to surround yourself with snakes.” Cole got up, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation.

Hangman was looking down at the floor, irate.

Cole kicked at Hangman’s boot, forcing the cowboy to look at him. “If you think they trust you, you’re wrong.” He glared at him. “But that wasn’t what I came to say. You have some apologies to make.”

At this, the cowboy’s eye softened. His brow dipped low.

“You better make them, before it comes back to bite you in the ass.”

As Cole walked away, Hangman cleared his throat. It didn’t help, because his words came out like gravel. “Say hi to Roddy for me.” He’d meant it to hurt. Cole didn’t feel it.

“Apologize. Before they become your next problem.”

It was after midnight before Hangman walked through the doors of the nearest Wendy’s.

The boys popped when they saw him, and a grin broke out over his face.

“Hanger, we didn’t know what you wanted, so we kinda got you a little bit of everything.”

He sat down, dropped his backpack on the chair next to him.

Matt was the first to ask. “Everything good?”

“What?” Hangman said, before understanding the question. “Uh, yeah, I’m good, just. Got a little overwhelmed.” He pulled a fry from Matt’s pile. “Fuck, I miss carbs.”

He listened to the sound of the boys’ laughter, but all he could think about was the burning on his thigh. The phone in his pocket.

When he finished his first chicken sandwich, he pulled it out. Looked at his Dark Order group chat. All the gray bubbles that he’d missed. That he didn’t answer.

Goddamn it, Cole.

He typed out a reply.

I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you guys. I have a lot to say. Hopefully I see you soon.

He thought about it. But it was stupid.

Hangman deleted the text.

He looked up to find Matt watching him with his deep brown eyes.

Unfortunately, now, Matt’s eyes reminded him of someone else’s, too.

[maleficore]

The fact that Arthur knows Eliza and Isaac were killed for 10 dollars implies that he knows who did it, since who else would be able to tell him that than the person who robbed them. And I just can’t stop thinking about him going absolutely sicko mode on some low life. He almost beat Tommy to death and that was just a random dude in a bar fight, the worst thing he did was to knock Javier around a little and call Arthur ‘pretty boy’. Just imagine how much worse young and grief stricken Arthur Morgan must have been like. The other dude must have ended up needing to be scooped up from the ground with a shovel like a pile of ground beef.

[tyxoxo]

Recognize

jeno x fem!reader oneshot teaser

genre: stripper jeno x reader au

words: ~

warnings: loading…

there was no better way to move on from a relationship than to indulge in life’s greatest pleasures. that of self-destruction, recklessness; whatever words could describe how life was going right now.

though, something was missing from your goal of distractions. something that could tip you over the edge in the most cathartic way possible.

something to make you forget about being cheated on, completely.

a mass of new exploits were out there to experience, but going to a male strip club was not your first choice. the idea sounded somewhat out of your comfort zone, bizarre even. but after drunk texting your ex, binging on junk food for weeks, and contemplating calling-in for work every day since,

there was time for a change of pace.

of course, your friend suggested going, but knowing such a feat couldn’t be done alone, the two of you went together.

9:06pm

you glanced down at your phone, the overhead notification reading,

“im outside, lets go”

taking a final glance in the mirror of your outfit didn’t yield much satisfaction. anyone could see it in your face, or your body that you were broken. with a huff and correction of your posture, you exited your flat and headed towards your friend’s car.

the gps was loaded and ready to go, 25-minutes until you reached

“City of Archangels”

the name sent a shiver through you, naïveté failing from the images of half-naked men flooding your mind.

“kinda curious what type of guys are gonna be there.” your friend said while pulling out of the parking lot, briefly eyeing your outfit to see if any effort was put into your choice of clothing.

“i can try looking them up and see if there’s any pictures?”

the shakiness in your voice had to be a predisposition towards your downfall.

it didn’t matter what type was there, as soon as one of them made eye contact, you were doomed.

too late now.

[dapper-comedy]

loving this bizarre habit of mine where i pass out at like. 10.30 and then waking up at 2 am and not being able to go back to sleep again

[risuola]

ENTRY #1 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I lay my dreams upon your feet, please be careful taking your steps.

contents: arranged marriage!au, angst-ish, slight age gap (reader's around 22, Satoru is 28), loveless marriage, brief mentions of blood and toxicity — wc. 1975

a/n: starting a new series while two other are hanging in the air and hundreds of wips are waiting for being written? yeah, that's me, but hey, I needed to start something new to get my creative juices flowin'. this one's gonna be a series of entries, a diary if you will.

series masterlist

When you were younger, a girl innocent and little, blissfully unaware of the world around you, you wished to marry a prince. Influenced by tales told by your mother and tv shows you watched with big and curious eyes, you had a vision of the ceremony straight out of a dream. A magical display of love and the path of rose petals and feathers through which you were meant to stride in a dress made of satin and lace – white and elegant. You also saw him, the man that your heart would choose and desire. A prince handsome and kind, who would love and protect you even if by doing so, his life would be on the line. You were too little to be aware of the naivety of the dreamy pictures in your head.

Sometimes you wished to turn back time and once again step into the shoes of the innocent you who never got to know sadness and fear. Sometimes you think of it with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing the way you used to go about your days without care about the world around. With mild regret you reminiscence the moment you learned that everything around you was–

“I’m talking to you. God damn it, are you deaf?”

“I heard you.”

–a lie.

You were a late bloomer but besides the judgmental looks you were receiving left and right from the elders of your clan, you also owe it the beauty of your prolonged childhood. Few years of freedom that you lost the memory of how it tasted and yet, you like to go back to it and drown in the pictures it left in your mind. Whilst all of your siblings were training and learning, fighting and risking their lives against the cursed spirits, you brought shame to your family. There was no place for someone without a cursed technique in a world of sorcery and you were made painfully aware of it at the day of your tenth birthday. That was also the end of your childhood and the day you wish to forget. You remember how the smiles of your parents turned into frowns and the soft, melodic tone of your mother became harsh and never got back to how it used to be. The tales and cookies vanished and what was left was nothing but suffering and degradation.

“Oh, did you?”

It took you six years of training to awaken the technique that later on was called the most powerful in the history of your clan. Six years of days and nights filled with sweat and tears, six years of bloody knuckles and bruises but also, it took six years of your determination to prove all of them wrong. Despite being the youngest of four siblings, you were able to stand against the worst of curses with nothing but a sword and raw power when everyone else relied heavily on the cursed techniques. You were strong and skilled, you were trained and fearless but still, you were looked down. A shame. To your family you were nothing but a shame.

And then, suddenly, you became a pride. You were on everyone’s mouths; you were talked about as if you were the most expensive and rare diamond. Years of harsh treatment you received suddenly became forgotten because once your technique awakened, you became the strongest in your clan, surpassing your siblings, your parents and everyone else who bore the same name as you. Suddenly other clans were talking about you too, with curiosity and fear. Suddenly, you became someone. But somehow, it didn’t make you happy. Once you realized that the world you were born into wasn’t a tale you always thought it is, you lost the ability to enjoy it. Maybe the pain of what you had given to become a true sorcerer rendered you unable to fully appreciate the adulthood, but you found it hard to see the light, when the darkness seemed to embed itself into your soul.

“You know what? Fuck that. I’m leaving.”

Ah yes, the marriage. With years that had passed since you were young and naïve, you stripped yourself of the dreams of sharing a life with a prince, but a part of you still hoped for love and calm. A part of your heart wished to settle with someone you’ll trust and care for. Someone who will ground you in the world of constant danger and for years you thought that you will find a man with whom the stressful life of sorcery will be a little kinder, a little less scary, a little more bearable. It was a child in you, a faint spark of juvenile carelessness that never died down, even in the darkest of days you endured.

You let out a deep sigh and allowed your lids to close. Your head leaned forward, forehead restless against the cold doors of the kitchen cabinet. The loud thud of doors snapping shut echoed in your ears for few moments and then it became silent. An earie cacophony of nothing but your own breath and soft ticking of the clock on the wall next to you. For a moment you thought about how many times you relived this very same situation already. The cold detachment, harsh exchange of words and then he’s gone. A salve of ruthless stabs that never seem to hurt less and the sound of your own voice forming sentences you wouldn’t think of if the circumstances were different.

First time you saw Satoru Gojo was many years before you truly knew who he is. It was a picture that you noticed by accident, somewhere in the papers your parents had spread out on the coffee table. He was a young boy back then. You remember the impression he made on you. He looked cold, intimidating, unapproachable. He looked like someone you’d never think of becoming friends with. You were young, just barely nine years old and he was already fifteen. He was already the strongest and even though you weren’t actively involved in the world of sorcery, you knew his name.

And then, many years later you sat in front of him. While the elders of your clans discussed the importance of the arrangement that was planned within the sorcerer’s society, Satoru was resting on a couch unamused, with his legs crossed and eyes covered by a layer of white bandages. You watched him, analyzed his lack of interest and the veil of cold arrogance with realization that everything you wished for was never on the table for you. During the two long hours of conversations that were about you and yet no one asked for your opinion, you and Satoru didn’t exchange one word.

You heard his voice actively directed at you for the first time during the wedding ceremony. It was small, very private and filled with people that you mostly didn’t know. It was far from perfect, though pretty in a way. Under the cautious watch of the most important figures of sorcery, you said the vows that made you feel nothing and yet meant so much. The words of promise, that for anyone else meant love and safe future, to you meant status and the name. You became Gojo. You became a wife to the strongest man in the world.

Now it’s seven months after the wedding and the day you and him moved together. The apartment you shared was filled with both yours and his belongings and yet it didn’t feel like home. It lacked the atmosphere of love and understanding and on days like this, you were losing hope it will ever feel different than miserable.

That day was nothing out of ordinary when it came to your marriage. Yet another fight, yet another beeline he made to leave you alone in the empty house. You always argue. There was no warmth between the walls of the apartment, there was no care and respect. Instead, there were snaps and insults, there was silence and avoidance. The large bed in what was meant to be a shared bedroom was occupied only by you, while Satoru preferred to sleep on a couch even though his tall frame was way too big for it. Besides one very brief and formal kiss you shared during the wedding day, you never kissed again. There was no holding hands, no incidental touches, no nothing that would convey any sort of feeling and only times your bodies made contact was when he grabbed your wrists in anger or when your shoulder hit his arm while you were passing by.

Truth is, you had no idea what Satoru was talking about that morning before he left. You were lost in thoughts, but you could only imagine he was mentioning the meeting he needed to attempt in the evening. He probably won’t be home until late and once he’ll come back, he’ll be annoyed by elders and for that, you couldn’t blame him. Whenever you face the elders of jujutsu community, your blood pressure raises as well and you’re quite calm by nature. That being said, if unlucky, you’ll be the one to take the hit of his anger.

Your fingers run across the golden band that adorned your finger. It was an absentminded motion that became a habit of sorts, helping you gather the thoughts, calming your mind. The cold feel of metal allowed you to let go of the stress and forced you to suck it up yet again.

Two hours after the morning fight, you found yourself surrounded by the familiar buildings in the Jujutsu tech area, watching your husband from afar. Satoru was in the middle of teaching students, if whatever the hell he was doing could be called teaching. Megumi was resting next to him as some other kids were fighting on the training field. The sound of wooden swords colliding echoed between the woods that surrounded the expanse of the school zones. Gojo was looking as careless as ever, calm and smiling – a sight that you almost never see unless he’s facing someone else. He was chatting with his almost-son, shouting some advice to the sparing students and going about his day as he usually does, but one thing was different.

 “Satoru,” you called his name as you went down the stairs to reach the spot where he was standing. He noticed you, you knew that. He most likely knew about your appearance way before you even got to see him, but now he chose to actively ignore your presence as his light blue eyes stayed focused on the field instead of landing on you.

“What brings you here?” He asked and you could tell how the tone of his voice changed from the friendly sensei to your husband’s rough approach. He wasn’t happy with your visit; you weren’t welcome near him and everyone knew that. The fact of your marriage being arranged wasn’t a secret and it also wasn’t a secret that it was Gojo’s clan decision, not his own. Satoru felt some sort of humiliation that despite him being the strongest, he was stripped of a choice who to spend his life with and you, as his wife, were paying for his resentment.

“I brought you this,” you replied, reaching your hand towards him. His eyes landed on your palm and you noticed a ghost of relief that washed over his features when he took the band of black fabric from your hold. His blindfold, that you realized was ripped – he left at home in the morning. That was most likely what he was talking to you about because once you cleaned up after the breakfast, you noticed the band and his broken glasses left on the coffee table.

“So you were listening,” Satoru said quietly and securely covered his eyes.

“I wasn’t.”

[cyberpxnk]

jealous | song mingi (1/2)

♡ part two

♡ pairing: mingi x fem! reader (afab) ♡ chapters: 1 out of 2 ♡ word count: 3.9k ♡ rating: mature/18+ (minors dni) ♡ genre: pwp, smut, established relationship 

♡ synopsis: choi san finds great fun in trying to seduce mingi's girl on the daily. on one particular night, you're left to deal with the consequences of san's actions after their concert. waiting alone in the dressing room, you fear that you're in for a wild ride.

♡ warnings/tags: idol! mingi, rengoku hair! mingi, brief mentions of ateez, smut, shameless tbh, jealous behavior, possessive behavior, sweaty mingi, san is a little shit but he means well, a lil bit of man handling, size kink, mingi GOT THE SCHLONG, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise, name calling, spanking, bruising, biting, hair pulling, slight dom/sub undertones, slight voyeurism

♡ author’s note: 

kinda proof read but not rly tbh

howdy, folks! this is my first time posting in the ateez writing community, so i hope this is to everyone’s liking. i haven’t written anything in a few years but the creative juices have been flowin lately !! 

this is also cross posted on my ao3, if you would like to support me there as well. this was originally a one part fic, but i’m currently in the midst of finishing up the second and final chapter. thank you and happy reading! comments r greatly appreciated :plead: :3

Swarmed by hundreds, your body is rocking amongst many others as the sounds of singing and shouting fills the air. The music is loud and pulsing through your ears, yet you feel at home within the crowd of fans. You don’t think you will ever get tired of seeing the boys perform live, despite spending nearly every waking moment around them. Similarly, Mingi is with you almost everyday yet you can never stop yourself from marveling at the sight of his lithe figure. It’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time ever with each new day.

With your hungry eyes following the fluid movements of his hips, he easily sways to the current song’s beat as he begins to drift further from your peripherals, heading toward the opposite side of the stage. Soon after his disappearance another figure soon comes into your view, their laced boots firmly planted on the stage in front of you. Even as those around you stir with excitement, your gaze barely strays from Mingi.

Only until hearing the screams erupt louder around you do you reluctantly tear your eyes away from his retreating back. Always being good at eliciting reactions from the fans, San’s sensual movements don’t go unnoticed by you or those surrounding him. The performer loved to get a rise out of making his fellow member jealous, although you were immune to his charms after many years of his ceaseless teasing.

To you, his flirting is almost always harmless and mostly just a hoax to get under Mingi’s skin. You can’t help but to roll your eyes at his obvious antics in trying to rouse you, but he instead begins to attract the aforementioned rapper back over to your corner. The male before you gyrates once more, hoping to further divert your attention from Mingi. It doesn't seem to take long for the other man to catch on as he practically stomps his way over to San.

Even if San's action never affected you, it always left a sour taste in Mingi's mouth. His jealousy was clear as day given how he was reacting now. Unseen by the public eye, his bout of anger was unnoticed by the fans — but not to you and San. In fact, the crowd is more than delighted by his quick return. His appearance beside his band mate prompts another round of enthusiastic yelling. Those around you wave and jitter excitedly and their mass of hands reach for the two idols, their phones held high.

Mingi is hovering close to the edge of the stage, mic in hand as he dances — his movements are aggressive, his irritations evident through the flow of his rhythmic dances. He bounces on his feet, rocking back and forth while following the groove of the music. It’s then that he tips his cap up slightly, immediately meeting your eyes with his own smoldering gaze.

Look only at me. The expression on his face says enough.

You can see a sliver of his tongue peeking out beneath his teeth before a shit eating grin is plastered across his features. He and his tongue do nothing but taunt you, slipping to and from his ample lips. You can’t help the flash of vivid imagery that briefly fills your mind. Eyes fluttering just barely, you find yourself imagining the wet appendage slipping into your hot cunt — his plump lips kissing at your wet folds as he eats you out. Fuck. The heat that rises through your body is immediate and you find yourself involuntarily shouting out for the man, joining the crowd as you all bristle animatedly from his interactions. He only smirks to you, as if knowing fully well what nasty thoughts were running rampant through that pretty little head of yours.

Mingi looks sinfully delicious in the fitted monochrome attire he adorns. Even he seems to know it, easily relishing within the attention he garners. You will definitely have to thank the stylists later. Even with little skin to show, limbs covered, the straps that hook around his lean torso only further excite you and feed into your fantasies. There's nothing more you want to do than to grab at the fabric of his shirt and yank him off the stage to make out. In front of the audience, you knew if he ever had the chance he would love to absolutely fuck you mindless on the stage. You also knew his sole purpose for frequenting your side of the stage so often was to get you hot and bothered.

You hated him for teasing you; loathed him for leaving you wanting and physically aching for his touch. The deliberate and slow thrusts of his hips are meant specially for you, but his cocky antics played it all off so easily. The fans would never suspect that he danced with such passion only to wind you up. Thankfully, you were not the only one amongst the fans feeling the heat from him. However, you did have the full satisfaction of knowing that at the end of the day you would be the one he was bending over.

Upon entering the dressing room, you could already see his sweat covered figure panting; exhausted from the concert yet seemingly more than ready to jump you. His breaths are labored with a primal desire and you can feel his heated gaze heavy on you. Yourself only adorned in a strappy crop top and tight little skirt left much of your skin exposed to his roaming eyes and little to his imagination. During the entirety of the set you two had exchanged many looks of yearning. The tension gave way and it was no wonder that he was ready to fuck you here and now. It isn’t long before his towering figure is looming over you, grabbing you abruptly as he practically tosses you against the nearest wall.

"Fuck!" A sputter of profanities. With the air being knocked out of your chest, you have no time to try to recover from his actions — literally breathless against his muscular frame. You can barely react as you're thrown up against the door with your back hitting the steel surface forcefully. Only the lean of his body and his taut muscles pin you up and you're nearly slipping down the door until you're scrambling to hook your legs around his waist. His broad hands find their grip on you, one squeezing a thigh to further hoist you up before the other grasps your hair tightly.

The impact has you feeling dizzy, yet you know you should be used to Mingi's roughness by now. There is a hard tug of your locks and you find yourself craning your neck to him obediently as he directs you by your hair with ease. The delicious expanse of skin is exposed to his eager mouth and he’s leaving hot kisses along your nape. Each brush of his lips burns into your skin, a fire further igniting beneath your belly. A whine bubbles from your throat once his teeth begin to graze along your throat, nipping gingerly.

Mingi has always been needier than you; always having to touch you, always wanting to taste you, and always needing to mark you. Despite knowing this, when he bites down between the junction of your neck and shoulder particularly hard, you can't stop yourself from crying out pathetically. His tongue allows you temporary solace, lapping against the tender wound before he begins to suck at the same spot. The hickeys he enjoyed leaving on the canvas of your skin were always welcomed, only fueling the desire that has been rapidly building over the night. The skin seems to bruise tenderly beneath his touches. Each mark is deliberate. He wants everyone to know that you were accounted for, especially San.

"You're mine." The baritone of his voice sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core and you're nearly keening at his words.

"Yours," you breathily say back to him as your hands grasp his shoulders.

"That's right. You belong to me. You're mine and only mine." His lips find yours briefly before he leans up to bite your ear, his husky voice raspy and hot against you. The trickle of words that leave his mouth don't stop even as his strong hands begin to roam your body once more. One arm holds you steady against the door as the other dips between the apex of your thighs. You gasp out as his long fingers inch closer to your core, stroking along the clinging fabric of your already soaked underwear.

"Look at you. Already dripping for me. You've been wanting me to touch you all night, haven't you? My needy girl."

Another startled sound comes from you as he easily tears the flimsy cloth from your body, hastily shoving your underwear into his back pocket. You can barely utter a word, instead settling for a choked noise of surprise as two of his fingers suddenly plunge past your slick folds. The stretch is immediate and he wastes no time pumping his digits within you as his thumb circles over your clit. With your mind reeling, you can barely catch up to his actions. His fingers feel so damn good scissoring within you that any coherent thoughts you possessed swiftly diminished.

The breathy moan that falls from your lips is delectable and much louder than anticipated. You’re both well aware that anyone passing by could probably hear you two, but that only seems to encourage the man to continue his efforts. If he was going to fuck you senseless, he surely had hoped San could hear him through the walls.

"Mmm.. You like that, babe? Do my fingers feel good?" Before you can answer, his mouth slots against yours with fervor. You two are exchanging sloppy kisses, teeth knocking into each other as your bruised lips move in unison — hot and heavy with your tongues intertwining. The desperation to taste you is too much. It's evident among his greedy touches.

You're pathetically grinding against his palm, his fingers furled to press deep at the delicate tissue of your g spot. With his soaked fingers expertly delving back and forth inside you, he easily reaches spots that have you dizzy with pleasure. You're soft and pliant to his ministrations, juices audibly gushing down his wrist with every pump. The sound is embarrassing to your ears, but your writhing body spurs Mingi on as he's no sooner curling his drenched fingers harder against your arousal.

He detaches from your lips, his own lingering down your shoulder blade. His nose is grazing along your skin as you're painfully arched between him and the door. Each thrust is driving you further away from sanity, your mind hazy with lust. With your mouth agape, you cannot stop the string of garbled noises that fall from your lips. Mingi always knows how to make you fall apart at his hands. The size and thickness of his fingers were nearly enough to have your orgasm peaking, but it was never that simple with the man.

The entirety that fills you is fleeting and you're soon whining out from his withdrawal. The actions have you locking eyes with him, his pupils blown wide with lust. Breathing heavily from his swollen lips, Mingi looks frenzied the way he bores into you. You can feel him undressing you so readily with his stifling stare. He looks crazed, his fiery locks damp and wild. The sheen of sweat on his skin is smooth and his musk is heavy, intoxicating your senses.

“M-Mingi.. Please,” you mewl at him pathetically, clenching around nothing but your own heat.

“What do you want, needy girl?” Your skin feels hot from his question. You are shy to utter a response and instead squirm beneath him, hips meeting from your movement.

“You want my fingers?” He grasps your jaw with one hand, grip tightening as his thumb grazes along your mouth. You're eager to wrap your lips around his finger, tongue brushing against his digit.

“Or maybe you want me to eat that pretty pussy of yours?” A strangled noise forms at the back of your throat upon hearing his words.

“You can barely keep quiet around my fingers. Everyone is going to hear you scream if I do that.” He says such things as if the results wouldn't be the same regardless of how you came unraveled. You would take him all the same.

With the absence of his hands between your bodies, you're suddenly free to grind against his groin. You're desperate and needy for him to be closer, chasing a temporary relief from being teased toward your orgasm. The action is welcomed as you finally feel the shape of his straining erection pressed to your dripping slit. The material of his pants does nothing to hide his size, fabric growing increasingly wet from your movements.

Just as you're enjoying yourself rocking against him, you’re unceremoniously dropped by him and you're staggering to try and find your balance as your feet shakily hit the ground, knees nearly buckling.

“Mingi, what the fuck?” Hands meeting his shoulders, you're holding on as you try to keep steady.

He ignores your pestering and busies himself with removing his trousers. The sound of metal clinking is heard as his belt drops to the floor. Haphazardly he is tugging down his zipper, pants and underwear pooling at his ankles. In all his glory, he’s left standing before you as you openly ogle his well endowed size. Everything about him is so big and it turns you on immensely.

The sinful sight has your mouth going dry. It’s hard not to stare at how his swollen tip smears a trail of precum against the toned muscles aligning his stomach. You would drop to your knees then and there just for a taste, but knowing Mingi, he wouldn't allow anything of the sort whilst in charge.

“Can’t wait to take my big cock, huh?” Mingi seems extra mouthy today. You roll your eyes at his words, though they do nothing to quell the fire in your loins. It’s not long before you're closing the gap between your bodies, hands tangling within his tresses. Thankfully, he gets the message and shuts up as your mouths reconnect in a heated exchange of saliva. Tongues are met feverishly, enjoying each other's taste as you card through his hair.

Between gasps and whines, there is a playful tug on the bottom of your lip when Mingi begins to withdraw from the kiss. His hands linger along your neck, trailing to cup your cheek as his narrowed stare grows more intense with each passing second. You swallow thickly.

“Turn around and show me that ass, pretty girl,” he instructs, the low grovel of his voice shooting a tremor straight to your core. The new position you take feels vulnerable and it's evident as your thighs seem to tremble with anticipation once you've swiveled to face the door. Despite your face growing hot with embarrassment, you can't help yourself from turning slightly to try and meet his gaze with curiosity.

His eyes are zeroed in at the exposed skin beneath your skirt. From this angle he can see just how wet you truly are, your folds slick and coated with your own arousal. Large hands are soon gripping at your ass, squeezing appreciatively as he spreads them apart with a guttural moan.

“Fuck, you’re so wet… Are you this needy just for me, baby? You want me to make you cum that bad?”

You whine.

With a rough shove you stumble forward, flush to the wall with your chest against the door as the solid metal meets your torso. Mingi maneuvers you to arch forward, his feet planted between yours while he's holding you by your rear. You're whimpering against the door, expectant and ready once you feel the intimidating length of his cock finding its way between your drooling slit. He pauses for a moment, enjoying your squirming against him. 

The room almost feels too quiet, tension thick with your combined breaths as you listen to the slick movements of his erection teasing along your aching cunt. You jerk yourself back against him, forcing his tip to slide past your clit. This earns a pleased moan from you, but you're met with his disapproving tsk as he slaps your ass a single time in warning. The pain is resounding, stinging so good that you cry out for him.

“Look at you. So impatient. You can't wait until I fuck you full, huh?” The head of his dick inches past your walls. His movements still, listening to you as you try not to sob out in frustration.

“You’re going to take all of me in your tight little cunt, and I want you to scream my name so loud that San will never think to cross me again. Do you understand?” Mingi's voice rumbles deep and firm against the shell of your ear, the implications behind his words are dangerous and clear yet another wave of hot arousal courses through your body. The fresh trickle of liquid that begins to trail from your wetness down your thigh is enough to show the man just how desperate and obedient you will be for his cock.

“I said do you understand me?” He repeats himself once, voice raising as he grasps a fistful of your hair. You respond with a wince, eyes springing with tears at the sudden sting on your scalp.

“Do you?!” Another slap to your already reddening cheeks.

“Yes! I understand! P-Please, please! Mingi! I need you inside me!” You sob out to him, tears slipping down your cheeks.

"Good girl." A harsh snap of his hips forward and he's plunging himself deep within your cunt. You feel yourself stretch around the entirety of his size, eyes rolling back in pleasure as your walls wrap around his thickness. Your tears fall freely at the relief that floods your senses, reveling in how deeply he reaches within you. 

There is a mix between a wail and moan that falls from your mouth once he begins to rut himself against your backside. The pace he sets is brutal, pistoning hard into you as he shifts back and forth inside your heat.

The sound of skin slapping is loud, messy and wet, squelching with his every thrust. Gods, he felt so big inside you. Each movement is met by his labored panting, a guttural noise bubbling from the back of his throat as he angles himself to fuck into you mercilessly. He wants you to cum fast and he knows you'll be unable to last with how you're barely keeping yourself standing against the door. An arm encircles your waist, ensuring you're somewhat upright as his other is gripping your hip bruisingly.

The way his hips buck into yours drive you mad and each drag of his cock within your fluttering walls has you keening. The fullness of his size fills you so well that you can feel the pressure of his heavy length against your g spot.

“Mingi!” You scream when he pulls out of you completely before pounding back in particularly hard, making sure to hit your g spot over and over as he resumes his rhythm.

“Good girl… Taking me so well,” he growls lowly against your neck, planting hungry kisses along your nape. Where he has already marked, he begins another trail of bruises down your neck, each love bite decorating your skin in a way that satiates his possessive nature.

“S-So close, Mingi…” You whimper into the door, meeting his thrusts with your own sloppy movements. You can feel the tension coiling within your belly as he jerks into you. Your cunt is twitching wildly around his shaft, encouraging his cock with the squeeze of your folds around him.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna fall apart on this big dick?” Languid kisses follow up your ear, and his words are igniting you, fueling the flame that is your orgasm. You barely process the hand that has slipped from your ass and now lays between your legs, fingers rubbing wet and slick against your throbbing clit.

The digits that play around your button have you chanting Mingi’s name in an endless hymn, mindlessly moaning as his tempo grows erratic. He knows that you're almost there, he can feel the way your cunt is clenching him so tightly.

“Come on, pretty girl. Come for me.” The way his fingers pinch at your clit and how he fucks himself into you with reckless abandon causes you to orgasm fast and hard. Your eyes are fluttering shut and you see stars, reaching the crescendo that is your orgasm. Your pussy is spasming around him when you come, your hips weakly pushing back against his thrusts to ride your high.

With your writhing and convulsions gripping his cock, it doesn't take him long to reach his own orgasm as he chases for release. He is sloppy, frenzied and desperate as he hammers into you, pace only stuttering as he begins to spill rope after rope of his hot cum into you. He peaks with a loud groan, hands finding their way back to your ass to grip at the mounds of flesh before his movements slow to a lazy grind.

You feel him pull out of you once he's had his fill, and it has you whimpering softly as you try to ignore the feeling of his cum seeping out of you. He is huffing heavily when he turns you around to face him, hands cupping your cheeks. Mingi peppers kisses lovingly all over you before pressing his lips to yours sweetly.

“God, I love you, babe… Let's get you cleaned up.”

“I love you too, Min.”

The people that await you outside of the dressing room are not particularly pleased as the two of you step from the door, both red with embarrassment. Bowing your head and grasping Mingi’s hand, you both flee toward the room that ATEEZ occupies. It doesn’t take long to reunite with the rest of the group, but entering the vicinity, the room is silent and the tension is palpable. The resident captain seems to be fuming near the back, motioning for Mingi to come to him before he begins to scold the latter. You definitely don’t miss the scalding glare he shoots your way too.

Shuffling awkwardly you turn to face the others, and you can see that Yunho’s ears are red as he refuses to meet your eyes. You can't help but to smile sheepishly. The rest of the group seems to be idling around, either playing on their phones or chatting together quietly. Similarly, some of them barely glance to you while others offer a shy wave in greeting. It's clear to you that the rest of the members and some staff weren’t exempt from hearing your loud ass shenanigans. You knew that you and Mingi would get reprimanded for it later, but at least you got some killer sex out of it.

Amongst Hongjoong’s bickering and Mingi’s apologies, it is San who stands from the couch and clears his throat as he casually saunters over to you. An arm is thrown around your shoulder as he ducks his head down close to yours.

You see Mingi’s head whip over to your direction. San smirks.

“So, I take it the plan worked?”

You only grin back at him.

[octuscle]

New class

Albert was more than disgusted. The fact that his father's chauffeur had been involved in an accident somewhere was unforgivable. But the fact that his parents told him to take the bus home if he didn't want to stay at boarding school at the weekend was downright impertinent. His parents thought he was a spoiled brat. And of course they were right. But was that Albert's fault? After all, they had let him grow up with a golden spoon in his mouth. And my God, he hadn't turned out that badly. Star of the swimming team, always perfectly styled golden curls. Dressed as if he was a cover model for Men's Vogue. He brought home good grades, he was popular and the daughters from better families queued up to get laid by him. But now he was standing at the bus stop, his Hermès weekender between his legs, waiting for the bus to take him to the station.

The worst part was the mocking looks from his classmates as they passed him in the heavy limousines. In this respect, the arrival of the bus was sheer relief. Albert looked at the bus driver like a cockroach. Fortunately, Dad's black credit card was accepted to buy the ticket. Unfortunately, the bus was full. Almost to the last seat. And the only free seat that Albert could reach without any problems was next to a young man his age. But age was the only unifying factor. Otherwise, the two were separated by education, money and style. And a different attitude to personal hygiene. Not only did the young man in his shiny tracksuit smell of tobacco and sweat, he also had one of his obviously unmanicured hands in his trousers and was scratching his balls with complete abandon despite Albert's presence. Albert rolled his eyes, took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and started exchanging messages with his friends at home. The weekend needed to be planned. Tonight there would be a dinner party at his parents' house. A small circle, maybe 12 people. But apart from that, there were no plans yet.

Just as he had written a message to Vincent asking if they wanted to meet up at Annabell's after dinner, he felt sick. The Scally next to him held the hand that had just been working his scrotum under his nose. "Yo, like who do you even think you are, bro? But let's be real, deep down, the aroma of a straight-up Scally ball gets your juices flowin', am I right or what?" Albert almost gagged. "Yo dawg, you cool if I blaze up some dankity dank up in here?" Albert replied that of course it bothered him. And that it was forbidden to smoke on the bus. But somehow it made him feel dizzy. The smell of his neighbor's hands… Somehow… Hot! While he was still trying to collect himself, he felt the smelly and calloused hands of his seatmate on his chin. His face was turned gruffly in the Scally's direction. And he blew his tobacco smoke directly into Albert's handsome face. "Yo dude, my bad but I totally couldn't make it to the station. But like, I'm willing to bet no one gets that struggle quite like you, you hardcore chain-smoking addict!"

Albert had never smoked before… The scally handed him a packet of tobacco and cigarette paper. Albert hesitated for a moment. Just a moment. And then he started rolling a cigarette. Like a pro. With nicotine-stained fingers. He stuck the first cigarette behind his ear. And he rolled a second cigarette. He held the butt in his trembling hand. Shit, how long would it take before they arrived at this damn station? He hadn't got that far yet. But he couldn't hold out much longer. The man sitting next to him seemed to have read his thoughts. He pulled Albert's head towards him, turned his face towards his and gave Albert a deep French kiss. And exhaled the freshly inhaled tobacco smoke. Smoke flowed through Albert's lungs. Shit, that felt good. Almost as good as the tongue in his mouth. His cock got hard, even harder when the scally started to knead the bulge in Albert's trousers.

The bus came to an abrupt stop. The Scally suddenly spat in Albert's face and got out of his seat over Albert. He obviously had a hard-on too. Albert grabbed his Nike sports bag and followed the guy without thinking. He was met with one hand in his pants and one on a freshly lit cigarette. The scally pulled his hand out of his pants, took his lighter out of his pocket and gave Albert a light. “My name's Mason, by the way. And you, pal,” Albert took a deep drag. Damn, that felt good. He held out his hand to Mason. Mason turned it into a fist bump. “Nice to meet you, Berty! Shit, who beat you up like that?” Albert looked at Mason questioningly. Mason pulled out his cell phone, switched the camera to selfie mode and held the screen up to Albert. Bloody hell! His nose had obviously been broken not so long ago and there was a freshly stitched laceration over his right eye. And his left eye was bloodshot and swollen. “Mate, I straight up wrecked that fool in the third round. Like, it wasn't even me getting KO'd, it was the other dude. I was just too dank for him to handle.” What the hell?!?! Did he just say that?

Albert stroked his bald head. The stubble was itchy. He had last shaved the day before yesterday. It was about time he used the razor again. Mason sniffed and snotted on the sidewalk. Berty followed his example and stubbed out his fag. Shit, Mason's cock was clearly visible under his training pants. Berty's filthy jockstrap, which he probably hadn't changed for a week, held his own hard-on back to some extent. Mason lit a new cigarette and walked wordlessly in the direction of the bus station bathroom stalls. A quick glance in Berty's direction, a grab for his crotch and Berty followed him inconspicuously. The two were not men of many words. Berty had been on the road all week working as a plumber. They showed their joy at seeing each other again in a good hard fuck in the run-down toilet.

The two of them hung out at the bus stop. Maybe a few more of their pals came by. Both were already horny again and could already cum again. But above all, Berty didn't feel like going home. His father was probably drunk again and his mother had enough to do with his eight younger siblings. Drinking beer and smoking at the bus stop wasn't the worst thing to do. He knew worse fates!

Awesome pic by @aismoker

[your-local-hoemie]

I saw your praise nsfw post so may i request it with thoma and zhongli next :p

NS!FW. 18+ ONLY!

Come and feed, children. The food is ✨spicy✨

Sorry this took so long!! I’m feeling a lot better now so my creative brain juices are flowin’ again uwu.

Summary: Genshin boy’s with a reader who likes to be praised (just incase ya’ll didn’t see the previous request)

Warnings: Ns!fw, soft smut, public spice (Zhongli), Zhongli also gets a ego™️, swearing, established relationship, Gn!reader, not proof-read, I don’t know what else to put hdjfhdj.

Characters: Zhongli, Thoma.

Zhongli~

I headcanon that this man is one of the most innocent about sex.

Like he knows about it and he knows what it’s for but he’s never had the need to look into it before you.

He’s a little confused at first but he got the spirit.

It doesn’t last long though because his godlike ego inFLATES.

When you moan out his name just a little louder after he praises you, my man couldn’t stop.

Instant turn on.

He enjoys being worshiped after all wink wink

Your relationship with zhongli was extremely honest.

There wasn’t a thing about you that the other didn’t know.

At least so he thought.

Little did he know you’d been hiding the fact that whenever he praised you for doing something, Your heartbeat went just a little bit faster.

One night after coming back from a special anniversary date, your conversation changed to a more intimate topic.

You and Zhongli had done the do once or twice before but you were just too busy with your commissions to have much time or energy to get all steamy, which Zhongli; being the gentleman he is, understood!

So when the conversation started about being a little more intimate, you shyly happened to mention that you really, really liked it when he praised you. A switch in him flipped.

He already enjoyed giving his people praise when it was due.

He was used to them almost begging to be acknowledged by the great geo archon!

But now he’s retired. The only person he wants to show that praise and appreciation for, is you.

So now, you were a little surprised to say the least when you found yourself pressed up against his statue while his fingers worked their magic on your sex, while his pretty lips left equally pretty marks on your neck and shoulder.

Something about the way you squirmed and whimpered out his name whenever he did praise you, sent sparks shooting up his body.

“You’re being so good, darling”

“How does it feel to have your archon praise you like this?”

“Such sweet sounds you make, dear. Why don’t you moan a little louder for your god~”

Needless to say that walking home is definitely going to be a challenge.

Good thing your boyfriend is more than happy to carry you back, all while whispering more praises and all the things he has in store for you when you get home~

Thoma~

Ok ok, hear me out.

I think Thoma has a slightly kinky side to him.

He’s such a sweet, precious boy that he has to have some way he lets out any frustrations that he’s been too kind to bring up to others!

Not to mention, he’s so incredibly in love with you that he’ll do his best to make sure you feel good no matter what!

He also is very much into praising, so if you start doing the same to him while he’s praising you then things will get very spicy, very fast!

You and Thoma were slowly being recognised and Inazuma’s cutest couple.

You worked together as a team almost all the time. Helping people with any problems they had and just generally helping to keep the place as issue free as possible!

That doesn’t mean that I’d was always easy though. Sometimes things would just go wrong for no reason and it left the both of you feeling… frustrated.

And today was one of those days. You had both accidentally over slept leaving not time for your usual morning hugs or kisses before Thoma had to rush off to the Kamisato estate and you had to hurry over to the adventures guild to pick up your daily commissions!

After that things just seemed to go down hill. Not for any particular reason other than you were both just really pent up for some reason and it just kept getting worse.

So you couldn’t really say you were surprised when later that night, Thoma had you sitting on the table, legs around his waste while thrusting his pretty hips into you~

Nothing but both of your moans and curses could be heard throughout your house, along with the soft creaking of the wooden table underneath you while Thoma lovingly nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck.

“Archons, y/n. You feel so good!”

“I needed this so badly, please don’t stop!”

“You look so pretty while I’m inside you, sweetheart!”

After a little while you could help but start giving him praises as well, causing him to rut even more into you while letting out the prettiest of whimpers.

Definitely Inazuma’s cutest couple~

Bruh I’m taking care of a injured baby bird and it’s so loud, like I’m happy it’s recovering but my dude please chill I’m autistic T-T

[queenofbaws]

! Pride Month Challenge 2024 !

Well hi there, everyone! With May winding down to a close and June just around the corner, it's about that time again...the time where @jadedsunshine, @unicornaffair, and I host our yearly create-a-thon! 🥳

What's the Pride Month Challenge, you might find yourself asking? Well, this year it's a little bingo game we've put together, featuring some classic tropes. The aim of this particular game? Make something!!! Anything! Just get those creative juices a-flowin' and see if you can snag a B-I-N-G-O along the way!

This challenge is open to everyone and anyone who wants to take part, whether you know the three of us or not! We're going to be using the tag #pridemonthchallenge2024 for the stuff we create, so if you decide to join in on the fun and games, feel free to stick that tag on whatever you make, too! If you're interested in more details, you can check below the cut or reach out and ask ;)c

Either way, happy almost-pride, and happy creating!!!

I don't write fic - can I still participate?

Ab. So. Lutely!!! We've done this challenge for a few years now (we've missed a year or two for weddings and other life stuff, whoops!), but in the past we've had people doodle, sketch, draw, make edits, create props or other physical art, and even curate playlists! The three of us are writers, so you're very likely to see fic or ficlets from us...but you? Oh. Oh, you can do whatever your heart desires!!!

Are there word limits/expectations for a finished product?

NO!!! :D Zero. Literally zero expectations. We aren't putting together an exchange, we aren't holding a competition, we're just trying to get the spirit of creation in the air. That's it! So whether you're writing 50 words or 5,000, whether you've made a rough sketch on a notebook page or fully lined/colored a scene, you're good! You're so good. As long as you've made something, you've earned a stamp on that bingo card, baby!!!

What if I don't want to do something fandom-y? Can it be OCs/original work?

OF COURSE!!! 100%. You don't even have to ask!!! Show the world your OCs! Tell the world about your story's worldbuilding! It's all fair game :)

What if I don't want to post what I made?

Don't sweat it! Again, this is...the farthest thing from official. This is for fun, and this is for the sake of making something. Sharing your work can be nerve-wracking - don't feel like you have to! We'd love to see you playing along with us, of course, but as long as you've made something that you're proud of, you've earned that stamp! No ifs, ands, or buts!

Is it cool if my creations aren't necessarily pride-themed?

Totally! We host this challenge during pride month because (1) it traditionally works better for the three of us than NaNoWriMo because of our schedules, and (2) we're queer creators ourselves! But if you're feeling a prompt and can't find a way to make it relevant to pride, PLEASE don't sweat it! As I've been known to say (and then get laughed at for saying), this challenge is no rules, just right, Outback Steakhouse :P

Let's say I get a bingo...what do I win?

:) Nothing. <3

Wait, really?

:) Really <3 Hehehe, in all seriousness, this challenge has been a fun way for us to sit down, take our minds off of life and our bigger projects and just...make some fun stuff! In our humble opinion(s), being able to point at a finished piece and say "I did that! I made that!" is its own kind of reward. The bingo board itself is really more for bragging rights ;)c Which, of course, we encourage wholeheartedly. Nothing wrong with a little bragging!!!

We hope to have you along for our month-long adventure! Again, we're going to be using the tag #pridemonthchallenge2024 for our own stuff, so if you'd like to use that tag - or tag any of us!!! - in whatever you end up creating, feel free!!! We love seeing what everyone comes up with, and this challenge is always so much more fun, knowing other people are taking part! <3 Hope to see you along for the ride!

*The bingo board was made by the lovely @jadedsunshine 🥰

[wannabepapa]

I see you’ve been reboggling a lot of old asks from me which has also gotten my brain juice flowin like

Lately I’ve been thinking about roommates who bond over a pregnancy. A one night stand or a surrogacy, doesn’t really matter, all we care about are the roomies who are now stuck in this fun situation of finding a new groove. Bonus points if the pregnant one gets big and uncomfy quick, leading to far far more late night rendezvouses.

The way I picture it, it starts with your typical incredibly awkward “I gotta come clean about something” scenario, with roomie B expecting a broken appliance or a forgetting power bill, but certainly not a pregnancy! Then as roomie A grows, they get needy, which sends roomie B into overdrive. Late night pizza runs become a regular occurrence, waking up way too early to hold their roommates hair, sitting up at night cause roomie A thinks they felt a kick and wants witnesses.

Then break happens, they go home, and when roomie A comes back they’re HUGE, which changes everything. Suddenly they need so much more to be comfy, and roomie B begins to realize just how much they like being there for their pal. They spend all afternoon at school just to come home and both collapse into the same twin bed, using the other bedroom as storage because who needs it? Sharing is caring after all. Roomie B is there to hold roomie A when they’re sobbing at a ghibli film or some advertisement about sad animals, they’re there to help with anything academic or physical, they’re driving their expectant buddy to and from appointments now that they’ve outgrown the drivers seat.

Bajshxjhshxhs it is 5 am and this ask is ridiculously long winded but I am tired and sappy and obsessed with this idea and thought you’d like it okie bye

uh hello???????? you have left this beauty of an ask in my inbox?????? Marin i am kissing your forehead right now.

roommate B has had nothing but terrible experiences with past roommates so when A comes to confess something they brace themselves for a problem. it's expected, especially when A looks anxious and worried before spilling the secret. the last thing that B would have ever expected was to be living with someone who was going to have a baby. they don't hate babies but they never hung out with people who had children of their own. it was going to be a learning curve to say the least.

the roommates were never close in the beginning, keeping to themselves as they had only recently roomed together but now they find themselves in each other's space. A has asked for help in the morning because the nausea makes it tough to function early in the morning so B is on kitchen duty. B tends to do a lot of the clean up now to give their roomie a break in the first trimester. it's only fair that someone does the bulk of the housework when A is creating a whole person over the course of nine months!

B is also in this weird "I'm not the parent of this child but I feel responsible for A and this child" state of mind that is confusing to them. they don't know why their brain has latched onto being the caretaker for a pregnant person but whatever A asks for, they get. A is feeling cold and wants to borrow a blanket? it's put in the dryer so it's extra warm. it's two am and they have an intense craving for pizza, but only the pizza at this shop that is an hour away? yeah just let B get dressed and get coffee in them before they take the drive. they don't want to be sitting alone at their doctor's appointment and want moral support? of course B will be driving them to and from every appointment now so they don't have to be alone. A meekly knocks on the bedroom door and says the baby needs a cuddle? get in under the covers and pick a movie! it's this perfectly platonic relationship that both just don't acknowledge but now all of their family and friends wonder if they're dating.

when they have to go home for their respective holidays there are definitely tears shed by A. it's seventy-five percent hormones and twenty-five percent not wanting to be away from B for weeks on end. they're ending their second trimester right now and terribly needy. the roomies have forgone sticking to each other's rooms to alternating every few days—it's become their routine. A also worries that something catastrophic will happen and B will force them to move out which B shuts down immediately. they're stuck with each other now whether they liked it or not. this comfortable thing the roomies have with each other is too precious to B for it to ever cross their mind to end it. A has become more than a friend, they've become a companion that has made their days more exciting ever since they got close. it isn't long after A is dropped off at the airport (with more tears shed) and B not even out of the parking structure that a text is sent that reads "we already miss you :c"

they talk every day of the break. A leaves no details of the crazy antics sprinkle (the baby has a thing for funfetti cake and B said they were probably a sprinkle now so it stuck) has been up to and complaining how cold it was where their family lives. they've sent many a selfie where they were hidden under piles of blankets or bundled up in multiple layers of warm clothes with a pouty lip and silly quip about how nobody does the dryer trick here like B does. it's too cute for B to handle. the weeks drag on for eternity to their dismay, their mind straying to how their gravid friend was doing.

to make matters worse A was stuck for an extra week due to a surprise blizzard that grounded all planes going in and out of the state. that was nearly a month apart and it drove B mad. too much time has been spent away from A and there was going to be hell to pay if this new flight would be canceled. if they were stuck any longer with their parents A wouldn't be cleared to fly, leaving them with no other choice but driving hours back down. B would have gone up there themselves to bring A back if it was necessary but to their happiness there were no cancelations and A was in route back home. B couldn't pick them up—work had switched schedules without asking—so they sent a friend to go to the airport for pick up. luckily A would already be home by the time B was off work so they wouldn't be alone in the house for long.

B never considered how fast someone grew in their final months of pregnancy. A's clothes still hide the bump before they left. now, walking into the apartment, B could do nothing except stare at their roommate. A hadn't grown, but popped in the last month since they were apart! there was an undeniable swell that tented A's shirt, their stance wider as they waddled to the door to greet B with a watery grin. the bump is pressed between them which makes it impossible to really hug while making it hard for B to not plaster their hands on the belly. the baby takes the opportune moment to shift between them as they were clearly unhappy about being squished. A chuckles at the movement but B is completely losing it.

after that they don't really stay apart for long. they're very, very close to one another at every second of the day just to revel in the fact that the baby will be born soon. A likes to complain about the pains from the movements of the nugget but they will actually miss it. B, however, has made it loud and clear how they'll miss being able to cuddle up with the belly and feel the nugget move. though both are equally excited to meet the little kicker that they've been waiting nearly ten months to hold.

[helphelpquesohelado]

Ya'll got any axienn(Ennui x Anxiety) writing promps

I know I already asked for prompts in a previous post but I want to throw my hat back in the writing wring. Mostly one-shots or you be bolder and give a premise! Get my brain juices flowin!

[onmyyan]

Well, the best work, or writing in this case, is done in collaboration with others amirite? The prev ask responding to my ask got my gears turnin and taking a break from writing by writing helps my creative juices flowin

When reader starts out they may have had their fair share of run ins with Catwoman, Harley, and Poison Ivy in their own way. But that was when they were a small fry, certainly not noticeable to their old family much less the femme fatales of Gotham.

It isn’t till they begin to rise from the dredges of Gotham that the three begin to take notice.

For Selena Kyle, she’s an opportunist at heart. She’s not wholly evil nor is she wholly good. At the end of the day she just wants to bathe in the lap of luxury with her feline friends and if that means introducing herself to reader, the hottest thing since sliced bread, and getting in their good graces then so be it.

What she didn’t expect was recognizing that pretty voice from months ago when some goodie two-shoes stopped her from stealing a diamond ring from Cairo. Sure, it was going to be auctioned for some stupid thing like newly paved streets or whatever but Selena could care less.

She was a rooftop type of gal anyway.

At the end of the day though, Ms. Kyle is a professional, that means bygones can be bygones for the right price.

What she doesn’t expect is just how profitable it is to take down the baddies. After all, the Gotham black market alone brings in millions- billions of dollars every year through illicit goods. Untold wealth stolen from museums and the wealthy sold to the highest bidder, reader sometimes playing the role of a seller, sometimes the role of a buyer.

But always coming out on top.

It’s a stroke of genius too, when reader hires Selena for a job, at first it makes sense. You want a painting stolen from some corrupt politician? Get Catwoman to do it. What truly confused her though is why you wanted her to put back the damn thing in the basement of the guys place a week later.

Turns out, art insurance companies are more vicious than one might think, and art insurance fraud can get you a lifetime in prison… and forfeiture of all your assets.

Assets you could happily sweep up on the dime now that that pesky obstacle was out of the way.

For Selena you aren’t just an adorable kitten flaring out her claws for the first time, but a beautiful independent woman just like her. And ladies ought to stay together in a town like Gotham, right?

At least, that’s what she’s telling herself…

Harley is much quicker to warm up to reader. She sees herself so much in the up and coming super villain. How many times has she gone to Arkham or sacrificed some part of herself for the Joker? How many times as she tried to appease the sociopath only to be ignored or even worse, have her efforts thrown into her face?

Speaking of faces, thing about being a brilliant psychologist means that she can be good with recognizing faces. She certainly recognized yours ages ago when the tabloids talked about a Wayne kid that left the nest early, paparazzi all vying to get a shot or two of the illusive member of the dynasty.

You were a rich kid, but seeing you now certainly could convince anyone otherwise. Harley sees that fire in your eyes, the emptiness and the hurt she long ago overcame to be her own woman in this town.

It runs through her head like a list when she analyzes reader’s movement. Symptoms of childhood neglect vary, naturally, but reader has the tell tale distrust in strangers and aversion to affection that has Harley’s mind buzzing with theories and thoughts, lots of thoughts.

It’s interesting to see when teaming up with reader to spread some chaos, the idea of using controlled unrest in rich neighborhoods to lower housing costs brilliant in her mind. Plus, rich suckers get to suck so why not?

Seeing reader like that just sparks something fierce in her. Maybe it’s a remnant of her more humane side, of the old doctor and psychologist, but she’s determined to be by your side like it or not.

You’re partners now, Puddin. You pinkie swore when teaming up so there’s no stopping now!

Pamela is honestly a whole lot harder to warm to reader. She’s a solo act for the most part, an antisocial eco terrorist that barely has friends outside of Harley and … Selena, but even the jury’s out on that one sometimes.

Her connection with nature makes her jaded with the vile parasites that walk about the street, the news of a new crime lord making the woman roll her eyes dismissively. New crime in Gotham? Please, be for real.

It’s only when Harley comes barreling into her greenhouse babbling on and on about reader that Pamela realizes maybe she ought to take a second look.

Who knew doing “good” as you put it, would involve her world so much. The plan was simple, destroy a few gas stations and car parks, break into some oil or gas executive event and make owning a car in Gotham all the more painful.

Growing pains according to reader.

Then with all the slush funds reader has, fund and develop a robust subway and bus system. Less cars, less subsidies, less pollution.

It was simply a coincidence that the reader had started a company specializing in public transport mere weeks ago, promise! And what’s more, building these tunnels meant that there’d be a perfect opportunity to carve out secret bases, paths, and caches all around the city. And as the system spread, making travel more green and efficient, so would your influence.

If you kept your thinking like that then… just maybe, Pamela might stick around more (Oh who is she kidding, the moment Harley was down for you Pamela would undoubtedly be there for her friend and you lol)

Incredible addition omfg??!?! I adore the way your mind works omgggg

Literally perfect I love your characterization of the sirens so much sjsksks

[ahtsy-voyager]

Oh! Another Grove artist! Groovy, I have a studio you can use if you ever need a space to paint- if y'don't mind making a trip to Hobbyhoo, of course. I'd love to swap ideas

- Viv [ @groovy-bizzyness ]

"Well hello thea! It's always great ta meet anutha creative! I'd love ta stop by for a visit. I definitely don't mind da travel - it's kinda my thing! I'm a travelin' ahtist - Er, well, sorta... I'm wit da Bizzies workin' as an ahtist for Inspekta right now, so I don't get around as much as I used ta since I try to stay within a day's trek o' da campaign van. It'sa can o' worms how dat all went down, but da important part is I'm stayin' productive and keepin' da creative juices flowin'!"

"I'll see about takin' da hike up your way - I normally prefer bein' surrounded by da great wildaness when woikin' on a new piece, but it's been a while since I've set foot in a studio propa. I think it'll be a nice change-a pace! Don't think I've eva been to a Hobbyhoo one, eitha - yours is probably loaded with goodies!"

[tamaruaart]

TAM!!!

First off, ily, you’re so stinkin sweet

SECOND!!

Oc interaction question 💕

Which of your ocs would interact with mine, (you don’t have to do them all) and what would their relationships be like? :D

CAMMMMMM ILYSM

Hmmm thankies for askin' :D This one got my brain juices flowin' lol (Sorry it took kinda long to answer bestie- Also I was thinking of making doodles but laziness won 😔)

Zhao:

So first off, she would definitely get along with Jun, that's a given. Zhao is a godmomma and Jun is a momma! They bond over their son <3 I also feel like, you know, something funny is that Zhao is like hundreds of years older than Jun, right? Though, mentally speaking Zhao is in her late twenties maaybeeee early thirties?

Correct me if I'm wrong by all means but I'm pretty sure Jun is older than that so I feel like she would still scold Zhao like she would be scolding a younger sister- Like:

"Oh, don't be so sassy young lady! >:["

"Jun, what-"

"You heard me! You put Wukong to shame with all that attitude-"

Also since Zhao was also on the jttw she would still see Chenguang in Jun sometimes </3

As for another lady she'd get along with? Probably Zhēnzhu, I 'dunno. They just kinda give off those calm vibes and I'm like "Yeah, they'd get along!" Also I feel like Zhēnzhu wouldn't call her "Zhao". She'd either call her "Zhaoyan" or "Yan-Yan" (I love having 50 different nicknames for my characters leave me alone-)

Also childhood friends Ling and Zhao anybody? They're both Celestial girlies- Also I low-key really ship Ling with Wukong even though they're not 1000% confirmed 👉👈 And we all know Zhao kinda really dislikes Wukong LOL- He's like that annoying coworker-

I imagine Ling being like

"Zhao... Not going to lie.. Wukong is kind of.. 👀"

Zhao:

"Oh shut up you had a crush on a stinky lion man-"

"True but at least Azure didn't pee on the Buddha's goddamn finger, LING-"

"...Touché-"

Quanshui:

I have no doubt in my mind that she would adore Meihua. She would probably nickname her "Mei-Mei" (I already told you I love nicknames leave me alone-), and I'm turn Meihua would nick name her "Shu-Shu". You can find them at the most UNGODLY hours going on and on about flowers and bugs.

Also, in my mind Quanshui would look up to Lychee. Mostly because she respects her a lot. And when I mean "look up to" I mean, Lychee is that one cool teacher who you like being around because they're so cool.

Also, just a brainrot though but Quanshui and Ehuang? I 'dunno XD Ehuang is just so fiery and I'm a sucker for the ":D and >:|" friendship dynamic. I honestly see them as kinda Polites and Odysseus in EPIC. Like they're jaded but such an older sibling and softie to this one precious cinnamon roll 🥹

Also her and Bao have an auntie-niece relationship me thinks

I don't know a lot about Chyou, but judging by the vibesies yeah, I think they could get along :D

Yueliang:

No one.

No body likes him /j

For Yue I feel like also Jun, they just have that Calm Mother and Chaotic Son dynamic, you know :D (Also bestie that kissing booth doodle of them amsmdnfnkskdjdjdjmdmddm it's like free therapy for both me and Yue)

Also, this a kinda weird one, but Yue and Asterius? I feel like they'd have a sort of frenemies dynamic. Mostly because they're both space babies and I can just see them waving at each other while flying threw space- Like-

"Hey, dude!"

"Hey, idiot."

(They say passing beside Saturn-)

I also think Polaris would find him cute. Not in "Aww what a cutie" sense but more in an "Awh who is this funny, loud space boy?" sense XD

And we all know Ling and Yue's dynamic- Not going to lie, no matter how much Yue LOVES TO ANNOY this woman... sigh.. Chaotic Aunty and Chaotic nephew vibes-

(Ehuang, Jiang and Suyin would absolutely hate his ass though lmao 😭😭😭😭 They're definitely members of the "I fucking hate Yueliang" club, along with half of China-)

Now, for their JTTW book versions, uhh I thinks it's essentially the same. Except Zhao is an even BIGGER witch asshole in that book so she would definitely get along with Xin Yan more. They'd be ✨t h e w i n e a u n t b e s t i e s✨. Also I totally can imagine book Zhao to be a sort of material figure to Daiyu. Because they're both twisted magic ladies-

And yeah! This was honestly so fun to write :D Feel free to send in more asks like this <3 (Also I'm now checking your OCs and I realized I literally did them all 💀💀💀💀💀💀)

[emma-smth]

Are you planning to write more WH fics? 🙏🧎‍♀️🙇‍♀️

I want to! I love writing the WH characters, they're so much fun! 🥰

I just don't have any ideas or inspiration 😫

Hopefully I'll come across another AU that'll get my juices flowin, or maybe when WH gets an update! 🙏

[ghostmemesource]

👻୧‿︵‿︵ ash vs. evil dead sentence starters

these are quotes taken from the starz series ash vs. evil dead. send in one of the prompts below for my muse’s response. please change pronouns/names where you see fit.

First thing I got to do is see a guy about a book. Must be some spell I can say to undo all this.

The other first thing I got to do is some cardio, ’cause my heart is jackhammering like a quarterback on prom night.

One false move, and I will Second Amendment your brains all over this truck.

We’re not leaving a trail of blood and guts behind us, we’re keeping Michigan moist.

There’s one thing I learned from [name]. Shoot first, ask questions never.

Last time I was here with a girl, I was hopin’ to get laid.

If I’ve learned anything from you, [name], it’s that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Hey, I’m looking for a friend. He’s, uh, tall, dumb, smells like… bread.

You fought this thing before. Maybe you just got to finish what you started.

Yes, I’m upset. Yes, I’m behind the wheel. Yes, I’m drunk. And maybe my license isn’t the fancy kind from the DMV. But at least I’m drunk!

Without good, there is no evil.

With all due respect, your tiny brain is a lot safer without my problems inside it.

Trust me, once you get jacked in the face, it’ll all click. I can’t even get my nut up to rumble unless I’ve had a good shot to the chin.

Once again I saved the world. Now it's time to get the girl.

Most people go through life thinkin’ they’re totally safe. People like us, we know the truth. Life is hard and dangerous, and sometimes you just gotta chop off somebody’s head to survive.

I kill demons, not people. Unless those people are demons, who look like people. And then I kill people, but they’re not really people, they’re demons. You understand?

Never get between a papa bear and his cub.

What’s out there knows that you’re alive, and it wants you to be… un-alive.

Well, good news I found a piece of pie with no blood on it. Anybody want a bite?

To save those two, I would submit to a prostate exam.

This town is only big enough for one asshole, and that asshole is me.

Sometimes what you think you saw, it’s exactly what you saw.

Someone needs to wash your mouth out, kid. And that someone is me.

Now I’m gonna kill you, just like I killed your father! I didn’t really kill your father, that just kinda sounded cool.

I gotta warn you, you’re gonna want to leave your husband for me, and I can’t let that happen. Family values.

I’m not drunk enough to know if this is good-weird or bad-weird. But I’ll get there though.

I’m going to be like a ninja losing his virginity, quick and discreet.

I told you. A good shot to the face always gets the juices flowin’.

Thanks for the opinion, appreciate it. Now you can take it, turn it sideways, shove it right up the old poop chute.

When you get back to Hell, work on your aim.

Do you know what evil is, [name]? It’s power without fear, without guilt, and without pain.

Hey, good looking. You here to break me out or break me in?

I'm gonna get you pregnant later.

I'd know that caboose from anywhere.

Even if this goes perfectly, there's a good chance you'll die.

Well, [name], it's been fun catching up. Sorry I got to kill you.

Don't you get it? Everybody dies here. It's just a rule.

If once you start down that path, forever, it will dominate your destiny.

Did you just Yoda quote me?

Alright, look, we get this done quick enough, we might have time to stop for churros.

Yeah, well, your cooking was shit.

Yeah, I remember when I was like you. Young, dumb, full of… conflicting emotions.

Sweet musical Jesus, that's your friend? Oh, she's filthy and fine!

She haunts my dreams. Just kidding. She does, though.

Do me a favor will ya, thank your mother for me?  She passed her genes down to you in all the right places.

Damn, [name]. Badass.

Why are you covered in blood?

So look, uh, I'm not a grief counselor, but if it's any consolation, I have had to kill and bury loved ones before. A bunch of times, actually.

Oh sure. I'll just sit here with the police officer we tied up and rethink my recent life choices.

Get ahold of yourself, woman!

I'm gonna say a lot of dumb things.