Giggling And Kicking My Legs - Blog Posts

I’M SCREAMING THIS IS SO GOOD

Ushisaku shadowhunters 🖤

I’m not surprised about who is winning 😌

my part of the trade with @dropshortdoe

💌 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome

OH MY GAWD STAWP😭😭 GOT MT BLUSHING ABD GIGGLING

I LOVE THIZ ZK MICH MORE

ADA Chuuya but it happens in the dumbest way possible

Ok so for some reason everybody in the SKK Tag seems to be losing their minds over the fact that Chuuya would have left the PM with Dazai if asked recently(like come on guys,they’re both obsessed with one another,I thought we knew this)

So naturally as someone who checks that tag like every couple hours it’s been on my mind too

But what if Dazai didn’t ask and Chuuya still ended up in the ADA somehow?Like something finally pushed him over the edge and he decided to leave,taking Akutagawa(cause I will not shut up about how much that’s his boy,bite me) and Gin(cause there’s no way Akutagawa’s leaving his baby sister behind).

They destroy their paper trail best they can and wait the situation out in England with Shirase and Adam,using those two years to come up with convincing fake backstories and get some sort of employment backlog(cause unlike some people they can’t just have their government buddy erase the evidence using a delusional twink).

Fast forward a bit and Gin suggests the ADA as an option.They’re small,independent and have field work so they’d basically be set.The guys agree and arrive there,waiting for Fukuzawa to receive them when out that office walks Dazai.

And all four of them are like

And the two parties awkwardly kinda walk past one another and for the next several weeks Chuuya and Dazai are just pretending they don’t know one another.Nobody’s buying it cause their ex energy just reeks,not to mention that Chuuya trips Dazai every time the guys so much as seems to be passing him and Dazai “accidentally “ doesn’t hear Chuuya on a daily basis.

So everyone decides to ask Gin cause Akutagawa gives off a kinda murder-y vibe.

Gin tells them that the two were friends in high school and had a big falling out.Everyone takes that as “homoerotic situationship” and moves on.

Chuuya and Dazai are none the wiser to this,until Ranpo feels bored one day and decides to ask Chuuya how dating Dazai was.Chuuya puts the story together and lies,quickly dragging Dazai aside and explaining it to him as well so they can keep their story straight.

And until Atsushi shows up they have to keep going along with it,lest they be thrown into the slammer.

When was someone going to tell me about the Italian Barty Crouch Jr. tag on ao3. Or just Italian Barty in general.

I'm dead. I'm gone. This is everything I will ever need.

Join me in the beauty that is Italian Barty.

@thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

Oh my goodness 😂 😂 😂 I love all of this so much! Now I really want to write this now, with Leonardo staying shrunk for an entire month, leading to chapter after chapter of endless hijinks. Just imagine the hilarious scenarios—Donatello carrying Leonardo around in a little sling, Raphael trying to act tough but secretly fretting, and Michelangelo relentlessly trying to use him as a toy.

I think a really underrated trope is "character gets shrunk to adorable size and hijinks ensue," and I especially want to see this used in the 2003 iteration of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Picture this: Leonardo, either through some villain of the week, freak accident, or alien technology, gets shrunk down to roughly the size of a Barbie doll.

Donatello calls Raphael and Michelangelo into his laboratory, looking all grim and serious. The absence of their eldest brother has the younger two convinced that something horrible has happened.

Raphael: [bursts in, all worried] Donny, what the shell happened? Where's Leo?!

Michelangelo: [close on his heels, equally concerned] Yeah, where's Leo? Did something happen?

Donatello: [holding up his hands to calm them] Yes, but it’s not what you think! He’s fine. He's just... gone through a bit of a change.

Raphael: [squints] What kind of change?

Donatello: [sighs] Now, I’m going to bring him out, and you two better be on your best behavior. No laughing—this is serious.

Raphael: [crosses arms, suspicious] Serious how?

Donatello gives them a look that screams, "You'll see." He reaches under the table, carefully picks up something (or rather, someone), and gently sets Leonardo down on the table. Leonardo—now barely the height of a Barbie doll—straightens his gear and adjusts his mask, trying desperately to maintain his dignity.

Raphael: [silent, staring] ...

Michelangelo: [jaw drops] ...

Raphael: [deadpan, trying not to laugh] ...I’m not supposed to laugh, right?

Michelangelo: [slowly grins] He...is...so...AWESOME! Dude, he’s like the ultimate, super-realistic action figure! [jumps excitedly] Let me hold him! Let me hold him! Please, just for a minute!

Leonardo: [scrambles to climb up Donatello’s arm, in full panic mode] DO NOT let him hold me! DO NOT let him hold me!

Trying to change my artstyle a bit. so here`s a fem!Atsushi sketch

I finally finished this seen page madness!!! Here’s more of my t4t soukoku au

The next day they went their separate ways and never spoke of it again.

we do a little silly

On my never-ending mission to project Izuku onto Epic Odysseus

Looky looky it's her. It's the scrunkly scrimbo my oc NYKO. ITS MY GIRLLL. This is my first time making a commision and I'm not displeased. 10$ well spent please check out op. @virusnightfire

My Nyko reff /\/\/\

COMMISSION ART FOR @moxalotl0!!!! nyko was VERY fun 2 draw they reminded me of virus with the mouth lolo :)

if anyone is interested in getting a comission like this im doing em for 10 bucks B) my cashapp is $VirusNightFire

no text version below :3

Puppeteer

GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET

I GOT MY DDVAU STUFF FROM @kitsuneisi & @xmaruu11

I want his attention, so badly.

I want to smother him with attention and tell him he’s worth it. He’s worth my love and worth the world. I want to tell him and go on dates with him.

I want to kiss and hug him. I love this man, so much. I would never want this high to end.

Okay, hear me out !

I found this fic on Ao3 and I loved it so I’m not gatekeeping :

Human!Charles is Nina’s father and he meets Erik while he (Erik) is on the run after the event of DoFP (Magda is actually the mutant) and he asks him to help a little around the house and in exchange he lets Erik stay and don’t denounce him to the authorities.

I feel like I summarized it so badly, but I swear it’s good !

If it’s okay, can I give both Sun and Moon a kiss on the hand- I would give them on one the cheek but I don’t wanna fluster them too much hehe.

Moon felt like being a little sillyyy

Iconic if I do say so myself 🫡

Series Masterlist

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader) (Series)

Summary : The year is 2012, Loki picks up the tesseract in an attempt to escape from the clutches of Avengers and his brother Thor only to end up in a tiny studio appartment in Minesotta, the occupant being none other than you. You reluctantly agree to hide and help the crazy god of mischief and terrorism wondering why you were even thinking about helping a fugitive?

Warning: 18+ This series will contain smut in the later chapters, Soft loki alert, Read the warning in every chapter

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Chapter 10, Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18

Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24

Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27

Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30

Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33

Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36

Chapter 37

On my knees or whatever

<3 he can't keep getting away with this <3

what gravity falls did i watch bro

GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET SO HARD OVER THIZ I LOOOOVE ITTT <333

Base edit of me and my friendz ocs :3

Top one is mine

Bottom left belongs to @he-just-wont-die

And bottom right belongs to @mashedmangos

ILY GUYS SMMM <3333

I cant belive im so down for this man and his broken English

I love them!!!!

Dandadan | Ep5 | I want to talk to Okarun!

I have another sandor thought.....

ok this is kind of based off of your little lion fic—so you're a lannister reader with SUPER long silvery blonde hair and it's basically long enough to wrap around your fist twice (can you see where im going with this) and youve managed to convince your annoying twin joffrey to hand the hound over for a day to 'accompany' her instead of her regular guard

so ur being SUPER annoying and chatty and constantly asking questions so he HAS to answer and u start whining if he doesnt (double ended sword for him really) — so obviously he has to shut you up somehow.......

table of contents; age gap, very light knife play, implied knife kink, blood eating cause that’s a thing now.

“i won’t be in need of your service today, ser.” you say as you open your chamber door.

your bodyguard, who was waiting for you at his usual post, casts you a confused glance through the slit of his helm. “princess?”

“don’t worry, you can wait here and guard my door.” you smile and bat your wispy blonde lashes up at him, caressing the proud gold of his gauntlet with a dainty finger.

“but, princess, i’ve been sworn to protect you—!” he calls after your retreating frame.

“you can protect me by preventing any monsters from sneaking into my chambers and hiding beneath my bed!” you call back as you disappear down the hall and towards the winding stairway.

upon arriving at the throne room, you find yourself encroaching on what seems to be a rather important discussion between your brother, mother and grandfather. the ringing of your kitten heels against the marblestone floor draws their attention, and your brother groans as he sinks back into his cast iron chair.

“what do you want?” he asks, already peeved by your presence and you’ve been in the room barely a minute.

“and why are you alone?” your mother adds, taking note of your shield’s absence.

“my bodyguard has taken ill, darling brother.” you say, sweetly. at his left stands sandor clegane, his hand rested permanently over the hilt of his sword.

joffrey leans forward, fingers drumming impatiently. “ill? what do you mean ill?”

you huff and take to the three large steps until you’re standing before him. “i mean he’s not well. i don’t think i can make it much clearer.”

“why weren’t we made aware? i could have organised a member of the kingsguard to take his place in the meantime.” your grandfather eyes you suspiciously, regarding you with his usual dry, monotone voice.

“a member of my kingsguard? i think not.” joffrey scoffs and plops his chin into the cup of his palm. “i’m sure there are some men i can spare for the day, go on to the barracks and take your pick.” and he waves you off with a dismissive hand.

“absolutely not.” your mother interjects, glaring over at your twin who shoots her the same leering stare in return. “i will not have her wondering around down there unescorted.”

your brother scoffs and rolls his eyes. “oh please, she’s the king’s sister, they wouldn’t dare—”

“the queen regent is quite right, your grace.” tywin interrupts, his hands behind his back and head held high. “i’m sure you can bear to part from ser meryn until the princess’ guard has returned to full health.” your grandfather eyes you again, unconvinced, and you swallow. he’s always seen straight through you. he’s the only one you can’t fool.

joffrey chews at his lip for a moment, then flops back into a lazy, disinterested recline. “as you will. ser meryn, keep my sister in check, and as far away from me as you can.”

“no, i don’t want ser meryn.” you decline, folding your arms. “i’m a little insulted that you’d leave me alone with a man who takes pleasure in beating little girls, if i may say.”

“ser meryn, if you lay a hand on my sister, your head will be the latest addition to my collection.” then joffrey turns back to you. “happy?”

trant nods once, but looks to you with that same repulsive hunger. you shiver. “no.”

your brother looks as though he’s aged ten years since the debate began and he looks at you with a mixture of frustration and boredom. “oh, spare me. i don’t have time for your fretful protests today.”

“i want the hound.” you tell him, jutting your weight onto one leg as you tap your foot. “if you can survive without your dog for a few hours, that is.”

something shifts in his gaze. questioning his capabilities has always worked when it comes to getting what you want from him. a nice bruise to the ego, preferably with an audience, ought to do it.

your grandfather appears amused, maybe even proud, and watches his grandson carefully.

“fine,” your brother agrees after a beat of awkward silence. “but don’t come crying to me when his ugly face haunts your nightmares. dog, see to my bothersome sister and ensure she does not trouble me again today.”

sandor bows his head, then steps from his post without a word, following you as you make your leave.

“best behaviour, princess.” tywin tells you, knowingly.

“of course, dearest grandfather!” you grin at them over your shoulder, triumphant, and top-off your success with a victorious wave.

your brother mumbles something under his breath, earning a sharp word from your mother, and you chuckle to yourself as you approach the large doors.

“where to, princess?” sandor asks, low and unimpressed.

“the gardens,” you beam, twirling to face him. “let’s promenade.”

the sun is unforgiving to your skin as you walk, and you fan yourself with your hand, huffing out a disgruntled breath every so often. “gods, it’s roasting.”

sandor looks you up and down, unimpressed. at least you’re dressed weather-appropriately. he’s practically boiling alive within the confinements of his armour. “perhaps, we should go inside then, princess.”

“oh goodness, no. it’s far too nice outside!” you say with that pouty smile of yours.

“you were just whingeing about being too hot.” he grumbles as he trails behind you, death-staring any passerby who dares to glance in your general direction.

“it’s bearable.” you shrug, wafting your thin silk skirts so they float behind you, the subtle breeze airing them out.

“nothing about this is bearable.” he mutters, catching a glimpse of your bare legs, coated in a sheen of sweat and slightly bronzed. he stops as you pass a tree, and reaches up to snap off a low-hanging branch. “here,” he spins you by your shoulder and offers you a large palm leaf. “will be more effective in cooling you down.”

“oh, so thoughtful!” you take it gratefully and hum as it wafts its own cold current over your face. it blows your golden waves from your sticky flesh, revealing the flushed skin of your neck. he swallows.

“so, i have a question.” you chime once resuming your leisurely stroll. he groans, tugging at the collar of his undershirt. “why do you comb your hair over like that?”

he throws you a sidelong glance, then looks away. “just do.”

you turn around so you’re walking backwards, eyeing him curiously. “but why?”

“i just fuckin’ do,” he barks, catching the attention of a few onlookers. “and watch where you’re going. i can’t have you falling on your arse, or it’ll be my head on a spike.”

you smirk and do as he asks, but allow yourself to fall back so you’re side-by-side. “is it because of your scar?”

he groans, hand tightening around his sword’s hilt. “why would i bother hiding something that everybody knows is there? i don’t give a flying fuck what people think of me.”

“you won’t mind if i do this, then.” you reach up to fix his parting, attempting to brush the hair to the other side. but his hand catches your wrist and gives it a squeeze. “don’t.”

it alarms you slightly, and upon seeing the fear in your eyes, he drops your arm. “keep walking.”

so you do, begrudgingly. but the silence doesn’t settle for long when you think of something else to badger him with. “how did you actually get your scar? because i’ve heard the story, only, it doesn’t seem plausible. how does—”

“—i was licked by kittens.” he deadpans, trying to gauge by the sun’s position in the sky how much longer he must endure you.

you scoff. “nonsense!”

“what can i say, they have rough tongues.” he adds with a sigh, judging he has a fair few hours of your nattering to go.

“so they, what, licked your skin off? like sandpaper?” you challenge him, finding yourself able to behave like a normal person in his company. it’s rejuvenating.

“like sandpaper, princess.” he confirms, stone-faced. small wonder your guard ‘took ill’, he thinks to himself.

“do you miss your home?” you change the subject, marvelling at the various breeds of flower that bloom around you, and inhale their botanical aromas.

he glares daggers into the back of your pretty head. “don’t remember it much, so no.”

you hum, taking the time to lean down and sniff a red rose, not long flourished. you pick the petalled head from its stalk and yelp when a thorn nips your thumb. “ow!” you stuff it into your mouth and frown, your cheeks hollowing as you suckle it.

sandor has to look away when you do, stealing a deep breath through flared nostrils.

“it’s bleeding.” you whine, scrutinising your war wound.

“it’s a scratch,” he grumbles, unable to see what blood you’re even referring to. “a tiny one at that.” wish it was your tongue, he thinks.

you side-eye him. “are you making fun of me?”

“careful, don’t strain yourself.” he quips. “don’t want to upset your wound.”

you scowl at him and whack him with your palm leaf. it scrapes against the steel of his chest plate, scratching it. you remain wordless, placing the rose behind your ear.

his anger starts to slowly simmer, and if not for your status, he would’ve knocked you on your arse. “we should return to the keep before you grow weak from blood-loss.” he says, hoping his sarcasm irks you as much as he intends. “wouldn’t want it to drop off, since it’s attached by a mere thread.”

“i don’t appreciate your tone, ser.” you berate, knowing that addressing him as such would tempt a reaction.

“i’m not a knight.” he tells you, his temper shortening by the second.

“and yet your brother of all people is.” you continue, smirking when he visibly tenses. “oops, struck a nerve. why is that—?”

you squeal when he fists your hair, wrapping it twice around his clenched hand, and tugs you behind one of the hedge walls. “you ask too many questions.” he snarls, leaning down until barely a finger could fit between your faces. “ilyn payne talked too much, too. . .” he unsheathes the knife at his hip and lifts it to your mouth, pressing the point against the plump flesh of your lip. “and now he doesn’t have a tongue.”

the little blade glints in the sun, reflecting off your heaving chest. his eyes dart down to where your cleavage rapidly rises and falls, then back up to your startled eyes.

you look fucking beautiful like this.

“did you just threaten a royal princess?” you ask, the knife’s edge melting against the pillowy surface of your bottom lip.

“aye,” he speaks lowly, knee bending up to settle between your legs. “at knifepoint, no less.”

arousal begins to gather at your virgin cunt, slickening the outer flesh of your slit.

“and i think she likes it.” he whispers, feeling your warmth and wetness against the cloth of his trousers. you start to throb, and he feels that too, dark eyes glazing over as their lids become heavy.

you lift your head, pressing your mouth against the sharp steel. a slow red line trickles down its silver face when its edge breaks the skin, but you don’t wince like you had some moments ago, just hold his stare whilst you grow hotter; and this time it’s not the sun who’s at fault.

he lowers the knife, leaving the blood it drew free to roam down your chin. he catches it with his knuckle, diverting its path over his palm.

“my brother will be very interested to know who did this to me.” you warn him, the desirous aching in your loins muffling the dull twinge of the shallow cut.

with his fingers still tangled in your hair, he forces your face towards his, and you gasp when he licks his way up the red route to your split lip and sucks it between his teeth.

the saltiness of his saliva stings slightly and you moan when his tongue finds its way to yours, wrestling with it. you hitch atop his thigh when the metallic tang of blood spreads across your palate, then he pulls away.

“did what, princess?” he asks, releasing you. “i don’t see anything.”

you gulp down a staggered intake of air and touch your lip gently, then peer down to see that indeed no blood has transferred onto your fingertips.

“i wish to retire to my chambers.” you tell him, meek and still short of breath.

he grins, lopsided. “i bet you do.”

hihii!! i hope ur doing well <3

ur acc nd ur fanfics are the cutest ever!! i love them all nd ur one of the ppl i look up to as a new fanfic writer,,, keel up the good work! i adore u sm

EEEK !!! thankkk you so much you’re so sweet <33 im so happy you look up to me!1!1!2! >ᴗ< you just made my day ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

I saw it mentioned that in your Michael survives AU he gains some spiral powers, could you explain kinda how those work? :D

Yes! In the beginning, it’s all things he’s doing unconsciously. They’re really small at first, but become more frequent if Michael is particularly frustrated that day. Extra/Missing steps on a stairwell, the doorknob being on the wrong side, the paper size in the printer is wrong, the pen someone is writing with is a different color, etc. Not enough for anyone to REALLY notice but it does start to build up.

Even when he is intentionally being vindictive and trying to be chaotic, like the highlighter reports, he starts to accomplish things that aren’t physically possible. He doesn’t really realize what’s happening unless someone actively points it out to him or he’s making an conscious effort to try and control himself.

Once he’s more aware, he works with Gertrude and Gerry to develop techniques that keep him grounded, and he tries to use his abilities as little as possible unless the situation is dire.

As for his abilities LATER ON… those are more complicated and I’ll take time to elaborate in another ask cause I have some silly ideas.

Spock realizing "You'd make a splendid computer, Mr. Spock" is one of the bestest things anybody told him. I'M FEELING UNWELL. JAMES T. KIRK I'M TIRED OF YOUR EQUAL PARTS FLIRTING AND TEASING. JUST TELL THE MAN YOU LOVE HIM.

Purple oc belongs to @mellliow (sorry for the tag!)

desperatley beed to get spanked by you 🥺 getting bent over your lap and feeling the harsh smacks, maybe taking a break and sucking your cock while i whine and moan before getting bent right back over again

Hehehehe 😵‍💫🤭