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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

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hey! just hopping on the period train here…can we get tender, soft, tooth-rottingly sweet ghost with a reader on their period? reader has cramps and will 100% try to overexert themselves if not directly managed lol. Anyway love your work🤍🤍🤍

The unintentional period train 😆 I’ll try, haven’t written about Ghost in a hot minute.

It’s not as grand as I’d like it to be, but I think it’s pretty good for a quick half hour ✨let’s say this is at home too for convenience sake

—

Simon wouldn’t be aware you were on your cycle at first, which makes the most obvious sense.

You; his sweet, bombshell of a woman, had a tendency to hide what irritated you. Physical or not.

Moving into a new house was a bit of a process, one that had a lot of challenges to overpass before enjoying the rewards. You believed their wouldn’t be as many boxes, or as many things to haul off the moving truck and through the front door.

Simon would then assume something was wrong by the amount of breaks he’d find you taking. Moments you’d catch your breath, stand completely still with a hand along your side, or sitting down in the passenger seat of the truck.

Try as well as you like, it’s his job to be concerned about your well-being. Exertion was a high price to pay in the military; sore muscles, lack of proper sleep, etc.

You weren’t in the military anymore. Pushing yourself wasn’t necessary inside your new home.

You figured this pain would go away. Exercise was always a factor to lessen cramps. An annoying tale, but sometimes effective.

Sometimes.

The more boxes you hauled, the quicker you’d walk, the more you’d pace yourself was met with more pain on your end.

“Go rest.” Came his voice from behind you, startling you after you settled some kitchen appliance boxes on your new marble counter.

“I’m fine,” you quickly state, turning your head to meet your husband’s gaze. “I’m okay—“

“That’s an order.” Simon states, leaving little to no room for doubt or denial. You’d frown, but he didn’t care, maintaining his ground with a firm brow and stern expression.

“Simon—“

“Now.”

You scoff, glaring up at him as if he asked something vile from you. Again, he didn’t care.

“Fine,” you bite back a bitter tone before leaving towards your bedroom. “You can finish unpacking all by yourself.”

Simon expected this, seemingly unfazed as he watched you go. He didn’t mind the attitude, he would’ve found it funny. He kind of did, but you didn’t see his smile.

He’d find you later curled up on a bare mattress, yanking blankets out from their boxes to wrap yourself up in. Your head settled on a pillow, his pillow, he recognized after a second glance.

He approached, proceeding to pull off your socks and shoes for you.

He pulls the blankets back after crawling into bed, per your irritation, only to apply a warm bottle compress along your tummy.

“M’sorry,” he murmurs into your ear, proceeding to lay the blankets back over you. Your raised hand stops him, your fingers grasping along his wrist.

Your quiet plea encourages him to join you in bed, clutching your body like a gentle wall of support. Occasionally, his hand would remain over the compress, moving it around along spots you desired it the most while his other massages the back of your neck.

“I’ll start unpackin’ in the morning,” Simon murmurs, his head settled ontop of your head, breathing in your sweet scented shampoo.

Your mouth opens to persist, but he beats you to it.

“No no, don’t wanna hear it. I’ll unpack the rest of the frame, an’ the sheets, give you a proper bed to rest on.”

Your silence meant you were listening, which makes him assume you’re growing irritated by his unique form of ‘persistence’.

“Sickness an’ in health, love,” He kisses underneath your earlobe, hearing your small sigh.

“I’m not sick.”

“You’re cranky.” A faint rumble of a chuckle erupts from his chest. “Often times I’d hear ya say you would get lobotomized back in the day for this type of behavior.”

“That’s what I used to tell Soap just to mess with him,” you faintly muse, nearly falling asleep from his rough hand providing the most gentlest of massages along your nape.

“Get some shut eye, sweetheart. Talk about your self diagnosis in the morning.”

I don’t know how to end this 🧍🏽‍♀️this is not proofread. Back on the grind.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost modern warfare #I’m sorry this is so short #I gotta work super early and I’m dreading it.#I also don’t know how to end this

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lady-phasma · 24 days

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A willing pawn

Daemon Targaryen x fem! Dornish!reader

A huge thank you to @zaldritzosrose for this amazing board. You read my mind and I don't know how you did it! An equal thank you to @black-dread for providing the missing puzzle piece to make this fic work.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, hurt/comfort if you squint, little bit of size kink, use of an infantilizing pet name (because Uncle Daddy Daemon), flimsy plot, creampie (and I truly did not plan what was going to happen there, Daemon just does whatever he wants in my brain, cheeky bastard)

Summary: You had a mission in the Stepstones, but he wasn’t as fearsome, this prince, as you had been led to believe. I’m not sure about my soft!Daemon but here he is. 4k words

The encampment was dark, lit only by dying fires. This night had been chosen because it would be moonless. Your soft-soled shoes were silent on the rocky earth as you crept between tents. You had planned your path at sunset, marking in your memory where the prince’s tent stood. As the orange light had faded from the sky, your stomach had begun to knot and twist with anxiety.

Could you really follow through with this? You knew you were able but were you capable of such a thing. The circumstances didn’t offer you any choice in the matter. Prince Qoren Martell wanted to avoid the costs of war, in gold and lives. His war counsel thought of every possible measure they could take to win this war, including involving House Yronwood. You were a cog in a larger plan and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You ducked around another tent and tiptoed to the edge of the large royal tent. This is as far as you had gotten in your strategy. From this point forward you could only hope for luck, as stealth wouldn’t matter when faced with the prince’s guards. You were sent here with the barest of plans and what little plan there was, was foolish. You listened for movement inside the tent and heard none. As you neared the front you expected a half-dozen guards but saw only two. You held your breath.

You couldn’t walk right up to the tent and demand to be let in. Sneaking in seemed to be impossible, but if you could, what next. Your heart pounded in your ears. Godsdamn it, you thought. You let out a shaky breath and slunk back into the shadows. When you turned around you almost walked face-first into a giant wall of armor.

The guard almost threw you into the tent but did not relinquish his grip on your elbow. You grunted and jerked your arm away from him as you stumbled into the large room. You caught your balance and stood up straight. The ground was covered in rugs. A table laden with maps and documents stood in the center. Next to it sat the Prince.

“We found this creeping about outside, your highness,” the guard grumbled.

Prince Daemon lounged in his chair, legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. He was peeling a pear, paused mid-knife-stroke, and looked up from under his brows. They raised slightly, seemingly amused, but he didn’t bother to lift his head. He resumed his peeling.

“Leave us,” he commanded without looking up. You heard the guard’s armor as he left but didn’t take your eyes from the prince.

“What terrible deed have you been sent to do child?” He didn’t look at you, only sliced a bit of pear and popped it in his mouth. When you didn’t respond he brushed aside papers to make space on the table and laid down the knife and pear. He wiped his hands on a napkin, dropped it next to them, and stood up. Finally, he looked at you. He finished chewing, swallowed, and wiped one corner of his mouth with his thumb.

He strode toward you, sucking the pear juice off his thumb and assessing you. Much of your face was covered by your hood, stay strands of dark hair were visible but your features were cast in shadow. He dipped his head slightly and looked closely, standing only a few paces in front of you. His silver hair swung loose from his shoulder. The violet of his eyes was unnerving. You squared your shoulders.

“I am no child,” you replied, leaving off the honorific. He was no prince of yours.

“Is that so?” Daemon reached for your hood and flicked it back from your head. The only hint of surprise he allowed to show was a brief widening of his eyes. You were well aware the effect your father’s blue eyes had when set against the sienna skin you got from your mother. You narrowed your icy eyes at him.

“I’m gown enough to make it this far into your camp, am I not?” Daemon chuckled and flipped his hair back over his shoulder. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled at you.

“I suppose so… but you did get caught, little one.”

Your cheeks flamed and you wanted to strike him but the smile on his face caught you off guard. Had he just winked at you? You were too frustrated to think and that wink made your blood boil. This was not going at all how you had expected when the guard snatched you up. Daemon didn’t so much as blink when you moved your hands from inside your cloak to push your hood back further. He was amused with you. The handle of your dagger glinted in the candlelight and caught his eye.

“So you were sent here to assassinate me?” He smiled that infernal smile. “Would you say it is going well?”

“Time will tell,” you answered through gritted teeth. Then he laughed at you, actually laughed. You clenched your hands into fists at your sides.

He took a step toward you and you tensed. You hadn’t the faintest idea what this man would do. You had only heard the rumors and propaganda in Dorne. When he reached out, you tried to take a step back from him.

“Uh-uh,” he commanded quietly. Then his hand dipped into your cloak and before you could move to stop him, he snatched your dagger out of your belt. He spun it lazily around, watching it dance in the light.

“This might have done the trick,” he spoke to the blade, not to you. “But I imagine someone with more experience should have been entrusted with it.” His eyes flicked back to your face. “Though, perhaps there were none as fierce as you.”

With absolutely no thought in your mind, you lunged forward and tried to grab the weapon from him. He deftly moved it out of your reach and grabbed your wrist with his other hand.

“As I said: fierce,” he quipped. You tugged your arm against his grasp to no avail.

“But I must!” You almost snarled at him. His expression wasn’t surprise but interest. He let you go and turned to lay your weapon on the table. When he faced you again a small smile was set on his mouth.

“Must you?” He raised an eyebrow. “If a child assassin has been sent to slay me, Dorne must be desperate indeed.”

“I am not a child! I am a woman grown, of 20 years!” You had no idea why this infuriated you but the prince knew that it did. He grinned again.

“Pardon me, my Lady. I should have said a ‘small’ assassin,” he mocked you. It was somehow kind. You were taken aback by his jest, by his demeanor. You hadn’t taken the time to pause and evaluate Prince Daemon. You had only been concerned with the ramifications of your failure.

Now that you looked, you saw a man not much older than yourself. A man who moved with experience in battle, with an ease not unlike your own. Graceful, even. Then he did the most unexpected thing. He extended his hand, offering you to sit in the chair opposite his. You had come here to threaten his life and now he was treating you like a guest! You gawped.

Before you could decide what to make of the situation, Daemon slid down into his chair and stretched his legs out again, completely unwary of you. He glanced at you one more time as he reached for his unfinished pear. You were too shocked to do anything other than sit. You closed your mouth and sat down across from him. You slipped your cloak off of your shoulders as you sat. Your common clothes weren’t uncomfortable but you weren’t used to them. You tried to adjust them as you sat but instantly became more frustrated. Daemon’s eyes on you didn’t help to easy your new-found insecurity. You were meant to have been unseen.

“Who sent you?” The blunt nature of his question startled you.

“And why should I tell you?” you retorted. You were behaving as if you were at home entertaining men you had grown up with. This was madness.

“I believe I am owed an explanation as it was my life you were planning to take. Also, what else is there to do?” He popped a slice of pear in his mouth. His eyes didn’t leave yours. “Let’s start with your name, shall we?”

You hesitated, but he was right: what else was there to do. You could sit in silence until he decided to have you executed. You could try to run from the tent only to be caught and executed sooner. So you told him your name and your house name.

“Very good,” he tossed the knife and pear back on the table. “What did Martell threaten? What predicament did he put you in?”

Your eyes widened. Was Prince Martell’s reputation so tainted, so sullied, outside Dorne?

“Not him,” you spoke quietly. “Though I suppose, ultimately, he knows. We are not a political house but we have wealth that is necessary for Dorne to succeed.” Your eyes flicked down from his at the last word. You weren’t sure why but you felt ashamed for being in this position, had all along if you thought about it.

“So if not the prince himself…” Daemon paused, waiting for your answer.

“His war counsel,” you replied. “They have many strategies in play, I’m sure, but one is to ‘motivate’ certain houses to bring the war to an early end. I have no knowledge of the other plans. I only know that my father was threatened. Whatever that threat was, it was powerful enough for him to send his youngest daughter to the Stepstones.”

There it was. You had spilled it out to the enemy in a gush and felt like vomiting or crying or fleeing. You looked up from your lap. Daemon was studying you. Once again he surprised you. Perhaps you expected him to mock you but the kindness on his face somehow made your situation more real. You bit your lip to stop the tears. You would not cry. You were angry and frightened and when the prince had called you a child it made those feelings more real.

“What choice did you have?” He sounded almost compassionate. This couldn’t be the petty tyrant you were warned against, who would rape, or torture, or kill you if you were caught. “You came all this way on an errand not of your choosing and meant to go through with it. That’s more than a little honorable, don’t you agree?”

You had no idea. You were confused and overwhelmed and angry. You had never been a zealot, but you had been more sure of your mission when the target was evil or cruel. Perhaps he was at times, but not now.

“I suppose so,” you muttered, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Well what do I do with you now?” He leaned forward in his chair. “I can’t set you free. Yet I don’t want another prisoner. And you don’t want to return home as a failure. I can see that. I could keep you as a hostage and demand gold for your safe return. Would that keep your honor intact?”

You blushed, not just from his nearness but from the fact that he could see your thoughts so clearly on your face. You and your family would be dishonored if you returned unsuccessful. It would also be unfavorable to the prince to appear compassionate to would-be assassins.

“It would,” you answered. “But I do not think the ransom would be paid.”

“No? Not for a young woman as fierce and cunning as yourself? Not for someone so precious?”

Your eyes flicked up to his at this curious word. You watched him, suspicious, as he slid out of his chair and knelt in front of you.

“I think you’re quite frightened of either choice: being sent home or being held here. I don’t want you to be frightened. Maybe the Crone had a purpose for bringing you here.”

You felt your breath catch. He looked so sincere. He was intoxicating but you believed him. You didn’t want to feel relief at the prospect of no longer sneaking, hiding, being a stowaway, but you did. Almost instantly, you imagined a hot bath, a dress and not these rags, and food that wasn’t brown. Then something else flashed in your mind and the heat returned to your face.

Daemon slowly reached out to you and stroked the side of your face. He skimmed a lock of your hair with his fingers, watching it catch the light. Its deep brown shown with hints of gold. You studied him closely. When he turned his gaze back to you, your heart pounded in your chest. His eyes searched yours as he cupped your cheek in his palm.

“Gevie,” he whispered. You thought it was High Valyrian but you weren’t sure. Your lips parted almost involuntarily as you looked up at him. He leaned toward you, silver hair cascading off his shoulders. You felt his lips on yours and closed your eyes.

His hand holding your face felt safe. His lips were warm and tasted of pear. You dared not move. You were overwhelmed and confused. However, there twisted in your belly some need, some desire for him. Your chest ached with the delicious feeling of being safe. You didn’t question how this was possible so far away from home and with your “enemy” no less. So you kissed him back.

Daemon slid his other hand to frame your face. His kiss wasn’t rough, but it was deep. You had kissed men before, you were experienced in the most basic of ways. You realized now that all the men before had not kissed you, they didn’t see you. They saw a Yronwood daughter or practice for their marriage beds. You had made those choices willingly. You weren’t concerned with being married for political reasons and had enjoyed your freedom. Until now. In this moment, you felt… precious.

Tentatively, you raised a hand to him, your fingertips grazed his jaw and neck, and came to rest on his chest. He slid his hands from your cheeks as he broke the kiss. As if waiting for your permission, Daemon rested his hands on your upper arms. You kissed him in answer. His arms swept around you and scooped you up as he stood. Your head spun but you steadied yourself by putting your hands on the back of his neck.

Daemon sat you on his bed and smoothed your hair back from your face. He stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head. He dropped it on the floor as he leaned down to kiss you. You made room for him on the bed, drawing him toward you with your kisses. He knelt between your legs, kissed your neck, and slid a hand under your shirt. You arched your back, pressing into his palm.

He brushed the underside of your breasts with the tips of his fingers and his other hand glided up your ribs. He pushed your shirt up above your breasts, fixated on your hardened nipples. His hair slid over your chest as he took one nipple in his mouth. He propped himself up on one hand and cupped your breast with the other. You moaned and writhed under him. You instinctively ran your fingers through his hair and held him against you. Daemon groaned and the sound vibrated from your chest to your core. When he pulled away you realized you had been grinding against his leg and flushed. He smiled down at you.

Wordlessly, he guided you to raise your arms so he could remove your shirt. Then he began to unlace your breeches. You watched his muscles move as he slid your pants off. You lifted your hips and giggled a little when you plopped back down on the bed as he tugged them off your legs. You weren’t shy but the action was awkward and you were quite exposed now. He tossed the breeches on the floor and smoothed a hand up your thigh. He stared, rapt, at the dark hair between your legs, so different from the silver of his own.

You bit your lip as you looked from his face, down his chest, and to the evidence of his arousal. His breeches looked uncomfortably tight now. His hands absently stroked your legs and your lower belly but paused as you sat up. You held him between your legs. When you kissed his stomach he hissed in air through his teeth. Your hands grazed over his hips and to the laces in the front of his pants. You let your fingertips glide over the shape of his erection before undoing the knot. You kissed seemingly every inch of his stomach then looked up at him as your hand dipped inside. His face was curtained by his hair as he looked down at you. You smiled as you stroked him.

Daemon moved his hands from your legs, smoothed over your hair, and then gently pressed your shoulders back. You laid down, already missing the feeling of him in your hands, but the sight of him between your legs was almost as pleasant. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead gently, then your lips, and pressed his forehead against yours.

You gasped as his fingers slid between the lips of your cunt. He licked his lips and continued to explore your wetness. Stroking, searching, learning. He circled your opening, your clit, and back again. One finger slid in easily and he grinned. You lifted your mouth to his as you lifted your hips to his hand. He slid in a second finger.

“You are so tight, little one,” he grinned down at you. You rocked your hips against his hand and moaned in reply. You placed one hand on his arm, pulling him deeper into you. With the other you smoothed his hair behind his ear and trailed your fingers down his jaw. You drug your fingertips over his lips. His eyes were dark as he watched you pleasure yourself on his hand.

“More, Daemon, please,” you moaned, saying his name for the first time. Hearing his name come from your lips pleased him immensely.

“Say it again,” he breathed as he curled his fingers inside you.

“Daemon, please.”

Slowly and with a tinge of disappointment on his face, he pulled his fingers from you. He was enjoying the sight of you but couldn’t wait any longer. He freed his cock from his breeches. Then he slid his hands up your thighs to your lower back. As he sat back he guided you onto his lap. The transition was clumsy at first, legs bumping and twisting. You both smiled as you held onto his shoulders. When you knelt over him you rubbed your clit against his cock. You rested your lips against his forehead as you rocked your lips. You moved your mouth nearer to his ear and murmured his name.

Daemon lifted your ass and placed you above his cock. With one hand between you, he guided himself into you. You sank down onto him slowly, watching his face. He clenched his jaw tight. You felt his hand move back to your ass. He let you set the pace, let you move against him. You pulled up and then sank down again, taking all of him. The moan that came from your lips was lewd and deep. You clutched at his neck, the back of his head, fingers entwined in his hair. He groaned but did not move to meet your hips. You rocked back, then forward, finding your rhythm.

He kissed your chest and breasts. His hands stroked your ass and lower back, constantly moving. You leaned forward slightly and pressed yourself against him. At this angle he wasn’t as deep in you, but you found friction against his stomach. You ground your hips into him, almost, but not quite able to get what you needed.

“Seven hells,” he panted against you. His hips had begun to move in time with yours. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair and you tried to find that much-needed angle again. When he realized what you needed he slid a hand between you. You threw your head back as his fingers circled your clit. You sped up, fucking him hard. He kept pace with you, circling and pressing his fingers against you. You couldn’t keep a steady rhythm. You felt him brace your lower back with his hand and pull you closer to him, steadying you, supporting you. You felt your climax tug at your core and sank further onto his cock with each stroke.

“Come for me,” Daemon whispered into your neck. You did. You cried his name, clinched your fists in his hair, and buried your face against his head. You sank all the way down onto him, thighs resting on his as you shook. Your cunt spasmed around his cock but he didn’t stop moving his fingers. He pressed into you with his hips, rocking under you, and bringing forth tiny gasps from you. You lips found his and you panted into his mouth. Tiny sounds mingled with his name flew out of your mouth with every movement of his fingers.

When you thought the overstimulation might be too much he moved his hand from between you. He slid his hand under your arm and pulled you down onto him by your shoulder. A new wave of pleasure crashed into you as he spilled into you. His hips stilled, holding his cock deep inside you. He came panting and moaning your name.

You wanted to sink all of your weight onto him. It took too much effort to support yourself on your aching knees. Neither of you wanted to move yet, though both of you needed to. You released your hands from his hair. You kissed him and smoothed his hair back from his face.

You smiled at him as you rose shakily from his lap. He helped you as much as he could, but your legs were numb and your head was empty. You all but fell back onto the pillows. He watched you grind your hips against the air as the last of your climax left you. His eyes were locked on his seed sliding out of you. He leaned forward, his legs shaking as well. You watched him through half-closed eyes and settled yourself on the bed. His fingers slid through his cum and you twitched as he grazed your throbbing clit. He looked into your blue eyes as he gathered more of it on his fingers. You smiled seductively as he leaned over you and raised his fingers to your lips.

You opened your mouth, your eyes never leaving his, and he painted your tongue with his seed. You closed your lips around his fingers and let him feel you swallow. He slid his fingers out and surprised you by kissing you deeply, tasting himself in your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist. You playfully pulled his weight on top of you. He let you but also guided you both to lay on your sides. Your legs intertwined and you were a tangle of limbs for a moment. Then you buried your face into his chest and breathed in deeply. You sighed as he smoothed your hair and rested his chin on the top of your head. You were quite small in his arms. Daemon breathed deeply as he stroked down your back, your buttocks, and up again. You curled against him, one hand between you, the other resting on his hip.

“I have you now, little one,” he murmured against the top of your head.

Masterlist

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minarinnn · 4 months

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kinda request/inspo/horny dump: service dom kita with a filthy mouth and who loves dumbification and eating you out. i need him.

ahhh idk if i did it correctly sooo sorry if it’s not what you were expecting

content/trigger warnings: characters are aged up!!, afab! reader, service dom! kita, degrading, oral(f! receiving), hair pulling, slight face riding

kita is the definition of service dom. if you’re into something, he’s into it. and if you’re not, then he’s not. it’s all about you. he just wants to make you feel good. so when you said you’d like to be eaten out while degraded, that’s exactly what he did

kita’s number one priority during sex will always be you and he's always paying close attention to your body language. he loves the eye contact while his tongue sucks on your puffy clit. watching your face scrunch up in pleasure and feeling your hands pull in his hair

"you like that baby?" you can barely nod in return while loud moans left your plump lips, your lover's tongue lapping up all your juices while his thick fingers curled inside of you. "you fuckin’ whore" his strong and muscular hand held your thighs apart as you clenched on his fingers

your mouth hung open as you looked down to were your boyfriend was. his eyes were love struck. this man was absolutely pussy drunk. he wanted to give you head until you were shaking and gasping his name

you felt the knot in your stomach about to break. his relentless tongue work driving you absolutely insane. his fingers hitting that one spot that made you see stars

“i-i’m s’close- ahh shittt” you moaned, pulling on his hair while his tongue and fingers sped up. “make a mess on my face like a good little slut, ok?” he groaned, sending vibrations through your already sensitive pussy

it only took a few more seconds before you came. your hips subconsciously bucking into his mouth while riding out your orgasm. kita didn’t protest, he loved when you used him like that, for your pleasure. why? because that’s all he really cares about

#this is so short i’m sorry #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #kita shinsuke #kita smut #kita shinsuke smut #inarizaki #inarizaki smut #haikyuu x reader

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 8 months

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pov ur abt to b kisst by a shy lord/prince who is so so so extremely smitten with u

#bones of a rabbit art #doodles #sketches #fnaf au #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moon x y/n #betrothed au #royal moon #royalty au #servant and royals au #silly fluff #might b part one n two to a short thing if I ever finish th next one sjdhdjd #anywayy sorry for being a corpse lately lol life has me by the throat and I’m rlly not into it 😔#also side note I LOVE drawing soft shy moon he’s so good and squishy

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chloesimaginationthings · 4 months

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Shueisha color teasers dropped! thoughts on the pallettes?

Okay quick rundown of what I think!

I think Jodio and Dragona look the best, I’m glad they kept Jodio’s colours, and Dragona looks more or less what I expected!

Though I’m not in love with the orange outfit for dragona, I think green or purple would have looked way better! Paco is fine, though I think his hair should have been a dirty blonde.

And I’m so sorry Usagi enjoyers, he’s a lost cause, they made him tingle. They feared to let him slay, they debuffed him. It almost looks alright but then they made the hat neon blue,,, should of been at least red to at least compliment just a lil

I think everyone else’s colours are fine! Though kinda just standard, and I do love November rain, I won with him having blue!! (Looks like weather report which is super cool)

Tbh I can get use to these colours, EVEN though I’ll probably still use the colour palettes I’ve been using, not like Shueisha colours are canon, It’s disappointing they just used palettes from certain Araki paintings over trying to make their own decisions on palettes

Jodio is fine, seeing Araki used it multiple times so it feels like that is what Jodio is supposed to look like, but taking from a painting where the whole point is to be one certain colour scheme, where everyone matches (Araki does these types of paintings a lot) feels somewhat misguided and will make Dragona, Paco and Usagi blend together and while Jodio will stand out.

I feel like there should be more variety of colours amongst the group, similar to how Golden Winds cast are all defined by one colour. I felt like it was too soon to give them colours, but again maybe I’ll warm up to them,

Definitely still using my own palettes whenever I feel like drawing them again🩵🩵🩵

#ask reply #not a short post at all I’m so sorry #I HAD MANY thoughts #they aren’t terrible but they aren’t great either #besides jodio and dragona #I’m so glad they actually made dragona brown over white washing em 😭#I think just for that we won #dragona enjoyers can rest easy #also like I didn’t show it here but some coloured pages look really bad #like too saturated and too much airbrushing #I don’t even think the manga looks that bad but recent pages are ridiculous

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navnae · 1 year

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Eddie has been in the press for several years now and his relationship with Steve wasn’t known about due to Steve panicking over what his family would say if the news had gotten a hold of that information. So Eddie made sure that things went smoothly for Steve when every they went out, he’d block the paparazzi that would surround him, refuse to answer any questions that involved, and he shut down every newspaper that tried to even paint the idea that they were together. Eddie took his personal life very seriously and if Steve wasn’t ready to have their relationship public than that was what Eddie fought for. Of course Eddie never shied away from being honest about his sexuality, basically everyone in the entire world knew he wasn’t straight it was almost like a goal for him to tell everyone “no to hetero” (he even made it a shirt). Meaning that he wasn’t shocked when the rumors started when him and Steve would get touchy from time to time but he kept playing it off as them being good friends for the sake of Steve. This went on for a long time that eventually everyone came to the conclusion that they were just friends and their love language was touch, the questions stopped, the pestering stopped, the theories stopped, everything finally stopped. Eddie felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders he didn’t have to go through all these obstacles to protect Steve but when an interview asked him about his relationship status he wanted die right on the spot every time. He wanted nothing more than to tell everyone how much he loved Steve and how he had so many thoughts that revolved around marrying him one day, this was killing Eddie deeply. Nonetheless Eddie kept those answers to himself and only hoped that one day they could finally be a couple without hiding.

It was New Year’s Eve when Corroded Coffin got an invite to perform on tv and Eddie was pumped. Steve helped him with his outfit which made him sweat throughout the whole day since it was the biggest jacket known to man but it was freezing outside and he just had to deal with it. They were going to be the last performance of the night right before the countdown for the ball. When it was around midnight Eddie had lost his voice around this point from singing with so much passion that the entire crowd could feel his energy. It made him feel good that while he was on stage he could see Steve in the front row cheering him on, Eddie couldn’t help the butterflies he got. Soon it was time for the countdown and everyone gathered around for it. Eddie being in his own world he shouted the numbers at the top of his lungs as he watched the ball in the distance he didn’t realize that Steve had made his way onto the stage. He kept counting down til he finally said “3… 2… 1” and right when he finished counting his whole body was turned towards the opposite direction then his lips connected with Steve’s in front of everyone. The confetti started to fall as they continued to kiss in the coldest weather they could feel their lips twitching against one another’s. Eddie was still in shock by Steve doing that and apparently the crowd was too. They gave their attention to the couple then the actual New Years event all together. When Steve pulled away a big smile was on his face with tears rolling down his cheek.

“Why did you do that? This is live, your family’s going to see it.” Eddie said worriedly. His heart pounded at the thought of what Steve’s family would do to him.

“I know and I’ve thought about this long enough to say that I don’t care. You went out of your way for years to protect me and make sure that I was okay. It’s not fair to you that we can’t simply live each other because of my family.” Steve spoke softly. Eddie smiled as he brought his thumb up to Steve’s check and wiped away another tear.

“And I would’ve continued to do it if you wanted me to. You should come out on your own terms not because of how I may feel.” Eddie knew that the damage was already done but he was still trying to figure out how he could get the press to forget it.

“I know that too but this is me coming out on my own terms. Who knows I might get a call in the morning from my family saying they accept me and I might not. All I know is I’m in love with you, that’s something I couldn’t hide forever Eddie.” Steve’s voice cracked halfway as he talked. The tears just kept coming down and it broke Eddie’s heart to see him like this.

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve tightly letting him sob against his chest. He didn’t care if all eyes were on his right now, Steve was more important than all of that. Eddie planted several kisses on the top of Steve’s head and when he did his own vision started to become blurry. Those days of him telling off everyone that said he was in a relationship with Steve flashed in his head over and over again. He hated not being able to hold Steve like this without someone trying out their nose in their business. Now Eddie could do what he always wanted to do with Steve and he wouldn’t have to cover it up anymore. He held his boyfriend close as if he was going to runaway, both of them felt free for the first time in years.

“I love you.” Eddie whispered against Steve’s hair.

“I love you too.” Steve sniffled. Eddie laughed lightly when he felt Steve shiver a little when the wind blew. They were definitely going to be sick after this.

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kabukibun · 11 months

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–Breeding Sex With The Girl I Love (Non Stop Cumming Until We Have A Baby!)

⚠ TWs/CWs: the start of my doujin titles, fem! reader, pussy eating, breeding, creampies <3

notes. this is pt 2 to my “first time” fic. i mistakenly called him kunikuzushi in the first fic so i’ve retconned it here

“That’s a good boy, Kabukimono. Just keep licking, I’m almost there-!” Your thighs lock around his head, pulling him closer to your wet cunt. Kabukimono knows exactly what that means, so he bobs his head faster against your pussy, tongue lathering you up. His lips focus on your swollen clit, slurping and sucking so much it drives you crazy. It’s been two months since he first had sex and learned how to worship your pussy, but it feels like he’s been doing this for far much longer. “Cum in m’ mouf, pleashh.. Wanna taste ya,” he says, words muffled by his mouth full of pussy. As if on command, you cum, legs shaking as your eyes roll back in pleasure. You roll your hips to ride out your orgasm and Kabukimono hums in satisfaction. He reluctantly pulls away, wiping away the excess fluid with the back of his hand.

“You always taste so good. You okay to keep going? If you’re tired I can just- Mm!” His rambling is swiftly shut down as you pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “O-okay, I understand. I’ll put it in now!” Kabukimono grasps onto his cock for the first time all night, lightly tugging on it before grinding against your wet cunt. It slides across easily, his cock slicked up in your juices. He takes a deep breath before he sinks into your pussy, breath releasing in shudders as he tries not to cum. His hands are firmly pressed onto your hips, using them as leverage to thrust inside of you. Kabukimono bites his lip in a futile attempt to hold back from moaning. He always thought he was too loud.. He just wanted to hear you and the cute noises you made when he hit the spot just right.

Ah, just thinking about it has him whimpering. “S-soo good! Mn, ah, I wanna cum-” His hips shake wildly, chasing after his high. The sound of skin against skin makes a loud plap, plap, plap - a sign of the lewd act you were committing if anyone were to pass by. Your legs intertwine behind his back, keeping him firmly against you. Kabukimono can only hump you desperately as you offer no chance of escape. “Inside?” He asks.

“Y-yeah, fill me up with your cum. You know what happens then?” You breathe shakily, your orgasm muddling your mind. Still, you knew you meant what you said.

“I’ll.. give you a baby! I’ll fill you up and get you pregnant, mmf! Please, please, ah!” His hips piston faster into you, eager to cum inside and make both your wishes come true. With a final thrust, his cum releases in heavy spurts inside of your tightening cunt. Your orgasm hits you as soon as his does, the feeling of cum filling you up giving you that final push over the edge. The two of you shake as you bask in the afterglow, breathing shakily as you hold one another.

Although this would usually mark the end of your session, neither of you can manage to be the one to pull away. Your throbbing cunt and his still hard cock serves as no incentive to release the other. You roll your hips and Kabukimono shudders with pleasure. “Well, we have to make sure, right?” Ever the gentleman, Kabukimono wants to have your clear consent to continue. His stamina is far better than the average human, you’ve learned that lesson already. Today was different, however, you wanted this. You didn’t want to stop until there was no doubt you’d have his baby.

“Keep going, hahh, I want you. Need your cum in my womb.” Your words made Kabukimono whine. You could feel his cock twitch as he grabbed your legs, pushing them towards your chest. Your calves rested on his shoulders while he gripped the back of your thighs. His cock kissed your womb as he positioned you, the head repeatedly rubbing against it as he hurriedly thrust inside. All he could do was slur his words while you milked him. “Giving you a baby,” and “I love youuu,” were barely legible as he tried to kiss you.

You watched as his cock filled you up, stretching you out with every thrust. His cock was covered in his creamy cum and your juices. God, it looked delicious. If he wasn’t fucking a baby inside of you right now, you’d be sucking him off and licking him clean. You reach down to rub your clit as you watch Kabukimono pound into you, occasionally glancing at his face. Just the sight of his sweaty, focused face as he struggles to fuck you could make you cum. “Kabuuuuki, gonna cum again.”

“Do it, I’m right behind you. Uoogh, so tight, you’re sucking me in!” Your pussy clenches around his cock, squeezing him as if it were begging for his cum. His hips move slow and deep, shuddering through his final push as he tries to stuff his cock as deep into your womb as he can. He mewls as he feels his cum spill inside you, filling you up beyond what your pussy can handle. For now, his cock serves as a plug to hold it all in. You whine at the fullness in your tummy, almost achy with how much of his seed you’re carrying.

When he pulls out, his cum overflows, spilling out in globs. Kabukimono pouts at this, using two fingers to scoop it up and push it back inside. Your pussy flutters when he touches you, completely overstimulated. He murmurs a soft apology, kissing your thigh to soothe you. Despite this, you still tell him, “Just a couple minutes… and we’ll go again. You will put a baby in me.”

#it’s so short i’m sorry #scaramouche smut #PLEASE POST

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duskstars · 2 years

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What’s 10 years between family?

#amphibia #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sprig plantar #captain grime #lady olivia #general yunan #yulivia #amphibia season 3 #sketchbook #//please dont tag as kin for sasha unless you’re my gf!!#// I AM COPING. I AM COPING SO HARD RIGHT NOW IM SORRY #// I’m addicted to both making yunan really tall and marcy super short even at 23 #// also heterochromia sasha RISE

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messiahzzz · 2 months

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while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

#with love. a person diagnosed with bpd <3 #this turned much longer than i originally intended it to be (aka less of a reply and more of a character study)#by now you know that i am incapable of cutting myself short. i’m so sorry #i debated if i should put this in the tag at first #but i personally think that this is a very interesting discussion #also to reiterate: this is by NO MEANS a slight at the original poster #i just thought it more respectful to make my own post instead of invading theirs with my ranting #fandom is all about fun and escapism.#if you interpret characters in a certain way that i personally disagree with that is a-okay #BUT i’m also gonna have my own specific brand of fun by pointing out why you’re wrong (affectionately)#also i quickly want to add that if you're interested in a very accurate and respectful portrayal of bpd: watch crazy ex-girlfriend!!#its on netflix and genuinely such a funny and unapologetically weird show. the writers have really done their homework #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #character analysis #it speaks #long post #suicide mention

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