#I am certainly not vibrating intensely

[t1ggles]

I made a full version of the character scroll in the Dungeon Meshi OP because I am going to be very 𝓝𝓞𝓡𝓜𝓐𝓛 about this show

#Dungeon Meshi #look at how NORMAL I am being #I am certainly not vibrating intensely #just a normal day watching an adaptation of one of my all time favorite manga haha #Laios #Falin #Marcille #Chilchuck #Senshi #Namari #Kabru #Rin #Daya #Mickbell #Kuro #Mr. Tansu #Mrs. Tansu #Kaka #Kiki #Zon #Leed #Doni #Fionii #Holm #Shuro #I am in fact SO normal about dungeon meshi that I went and tagged every character in these #you know #like a normal person would

[crystalflygeo]

Surrogate eggs ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: Egg-laying/Oviposition, semi-plublic sex, multiple orgasms, slight fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink, Zhongli has a dragon tongue, praise kink, sex toys??, improper use of geo (can you tell I love that tag?), pet names, some pain??, aftercare.

notes: I disappear for a week and come back with this absolute FILTH omg. It really is just almost 2k of egg-laying made sexy because I am a degenerate and want nothing more than Zhongli filling me up with eggs <3 sorry not sorry.

Having a 6000 years old dragon ex-god as a lover sure meant you were already more or less used to a certain… spice in your life.

But this, this was certainly new.

“Ah- Zhong- Hnnhg!”

Your legs tremble as a newborn fawn as you stray off the main path and lean against one of the golden ginkgo trees by the side, panting and whining softly.

“Are you alright dear? You look quite flustered.” Zhongli curiously trails after you, hands behind his back, perfectly poised. As if he wasn’t the one making the cor lapis eggs in your pussy vibrate and tease your insides. “Do you need to rest? We’ve barely reached the base of Qingyun peak.” He asks, an amused smile on his lips.

“B-bastard.” You huff out with a pout and immediately feel the vibrations intensify. “O-Oh… fuck-”

Three. Three small polished cor lapis pieces in the shape of eggs, warm and snug and deep inside you. They shift and rub against your sweet spots, pulsing at his will ever since you stepped foot in Jueyun Karst, at first it was an odd sensation but soon enough your panties were soaked, juices running down your legs as you struggled to keep standing, sweet noises coming out of your mouth that only made Zhongli’s gaze darken.

“Zhongli…” You cry out.

“Yes, darling?”

“S-stop… mmh”

“Oh? But you seem to be enjoying yourself so much.”

“Stop… playing dumb.” You grit your teeth, clinging to the tree for dear life. The vibrations calming down to a soft hum, a gentle fucking not unlike his cock. “Please I’m-” You whine again.

You feel his finger softly raise your chin and your hazy half-lidded eyes were met with glittering gold, his diamond pupils mesmerizing and his stare soft and affectionate but also domineering, commanding, and full of lust.

“What do you need, my dear? Tell me.”

You choke a moan at his authoritarian presence, shifting and rubbing your legs together as the pleasure robs you of your strength. “P-please… Zhongli, make me come, please I n-need- It’s not… enough.”  

His eyes shift to the side as he seems to consider it for a moment and you almost mewl for his attention, eyebrows knitting together trying to steel yourself.

“Alright.” He concedes, and leans forward to kiss you softly.

Well, at first.

The geo eggs inside you start to shake and vibrate more intensely and you gasp at the sudden rush of stimulation, Zhongli holds you and pulls you closer, taking the chance to snake his long dragon tongue into your mouth, quickly deepening the kiss and set on devouring you.  

“Hmpnnng-” He swallows your moan as you kiss back the best way you can but it’s suddenly so much- too much- you’ve been teased and edged all the way and he’s- he’s just-

Your body shudders in his arms and you let out a high-pitched noise as you climax. Your insides squeezing and milking the toys inside you, dragging on the pleasure for longer and you cling onto him as your legs threaten to give up. Bliss, pure bliss. And he hasn’t even touched you proper yet.

“There we go…” His rough voice mumbles as he breaks apart the filthy kiss, his hands rub at your hips and you vaguely realize the geo eggs have stopped again. He carefully maneuvers your pliant body until you’re both sitting on the yellowed Liyue grass, his back resting against the tree while you sit between his legs, your back pressed to his chest.

He spreads your legs and holds them open with his own, you blush heavily as you realize his intentions, hiking up your skirt to reveal soft thighs and wet panties to the world. The flimsy fabric is soaked and clings uncomfortably against your pussy, more so as you feel the soft breeze.

“W-wait… right here?”

It is true that barely anyone ever enters Jueyun Karst but it was still risky. A lost adventurer, a lone merchant… you weren’t that far from the main dirt path, anyone could walk in and see you… exposed like this.

Your insides clenched, throbbing around nothing but the eggs inside of you.

Archons you really were depraved.

Zhongli rubs your inner thighs comfortingly before pulling your panties aside, his long gloved fingers skim your heated pussy lips and rub at your hole as it twitches wildly in response.

“Zhongli…” You moan weakly. “I’m so full.”

“I know, you look so pretty with my eggs inside you. Breathtaking.” His other hand rubs circles on your navel. The warmth within the geo energy sent through him spreading heat in a sensual way. “How about you push them out for me and we can be done. I’ll take you home so you can rest, my precious mate.” He nuzzles you.

“W-wha…” You mumble dumbly, but instinctively lean to his touch.

“They’ve been inside you long enough, and… we’ve had our fun.” He explains, kissing at your jaw. Two of his fingers easily sliding inside you, making you jump. “Don’t you think it’s time to let them out? I want to see you lay them.”

Pressure builds in your gut and you nod, biting your lip. Her works those sinful fingers in and out of your pussy slowly, scissoring them to stretch you a little and you moan. Not that you needed that much preparation with the recent orgasm and your… activities early that morning.

After all, those eggs had gotten in somehow, hadn’t they?

Only a few moments later and you feel ready, panting rapidly as if you truly were going into labor yet at the brink of another orgasm, you weakly pulled his hand away “H-Hold me…” You mutter heatedly. Zhongli kisses you softly and you take a deep breath.

And push.

The first egg slides down freely inside you, rapidly moving until it catches at your entrance, it burns a little but feels so good, lightning up pleasured nerves in a way that had you mewling before the stretch disappears, coming out alongside your spilling juices and onto the grass.   

Zhongli doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers back into your heated core to soothe the sore muscles and play with your pussy a bit more, rubbing over your raw clit to make your hips stutter and your legs shake trying to close.

“That’s the first one, two more.” He says softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he obviously stares between your legs entranced. You flush at his actions. “You can do it.” He encourages you, elegant fingers spreading your folds lewdly and soaking in your essences.

The whole experience is making you dizzy.

“I-I just… I just need a moment.” You pant, groaning and shifting your position a little so you’re less sitting and more lying against him, lifting your hips slightly and offering him an even better view from above.

“Just imagine the real thing. There will be more of them, slightly bigger and thrumming with elemental energy.” He growled softly against your ear. “Our children. Our clutch.”

It’s just dirty talk. It’s just dirty talk and it sets your blood on fire to hear it. You know his base draconic instincts are going haywire with the idea and archons you want that. You want that so badly.

Another egg stretches your hole and you can only imagine what it looks like as it slips and spreads you open. “Ah- Ah!” You toss your head back, let out a long moan and strain the muscles of your stomach before finally it slips out.

“Good girl.” Comes his smooth baritone in the form of a praise. You sigh in relief, rutting against his fingers as reward. You see slick threads of your juices all over on his gloves, the shiny eggs and your pussy, connecting everything together in a mess of a shiny cobweb. It’s obscene.

It’s so hot.

“Just one more, darling.” The ex-archon soothes you, possessively rubbing at your navel once again although you feel something’s different, like something shifts a little inside you. “Though, I feel this one is just a little bigger… closer to the real thing.”

Your eyes widen.

“No, no, no, you did it on purpose… just now… m-make it smaller again, please!” You shake your head frantically, digging your nails against his arms and squirming against the feeling of his fingertips dancing around your folds.

“Shhh, shhh” He cooed, kissing at your neck. “You can do it, I know you can. Consider it… practice.” You can practically feel the smirk Zhongli presses against your skin.

“I already came so much…” You whisper, tears in your eyes. “Zhongliiii…”

“You got this.” He kisses your temple. “Just one more. I want to see that sweet pussy stretch around my egg, please?”

You groan at his filthy words, hips snapping against phantom stimulation as your pussy quivers. You brace yourself and breathe in deeply before squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to push against the overstimulation. Your hole stretches impossibly wide, widening against the grit of the egg and pressing against your clit making you keen. It rests there a few seconds, heavy, solid, before finally popping out with a wet squelch, dropping right by the other two, and you scream at the excruciating mix of pain and pleasure.

For a moment you can’t even breathe, much less speak as you rest a little. Black spots dance in your vision and your ears are ringing. When you come to again Zhongli is desperately peppering you with kisses, caresses and praise. Hugging you close and growling dark promises into your skin.

“-did so well. My little mate. My perfect mate. Want to breed you for real. Fill you up. You’d give me wonderful little half adepti. So good for me. Truly worthy to be a dragon’s mate. Should keep you in my nest. Love you so much-”      

Sluggish, you close your legs and pull down your skirt clumsily, ignoring the soreness and sticky feeling as your body sags against him in exhaustion.    

The dragon is practically purring, having mellowed down a little yet obviously pleased after having you bear his eggs, albeit fake ones. The intention is there… as well as the possibility for the future.

“We should go to the abode, you deserve a good rest. I’ll clean you up and get you something to eat and drink, hm?”

“Just a little more, Li.” You mumble tired. “It’s warm and cozy here…”

He chuckles and pets your hair. “Alright.”

#genshin impact smut #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #now I wanna write him breeding reader with his actual dragon eggs hnnnngg <3 #it's almost 2k but somehow feels rushed sorry #imagine the adepti being like... r u serious right in our holy ground?//hit #Moon Carver's home being the closest rip him #I considered having the setting be Zl's abode/room/nest with silks and all #but semi public was fun lmao

[devildom-moss]

November poll story - pt. 2

Denial - Mephistopheles

(Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (sub!Mephistopheles / dom!MC) (NSFW tags: denial; edging; ruined orgasm; no penetration; no orgasm; handjob; public why have I developed such an intense exhibitionist/risk of getting caught headcanon for him?; partially clothed Mephi, fully clothed reader; "good boy" for Mephisto he's such a good boy and I'll die on that hill)

(other tags: slight jealousy, slight angst, insecurity)

Word Count: +2,900

“Can I borrow you in the newspaper room, MC?” Mephisto nudged his way into your conversation with Satan about that mystery novel he had lent you last month.

“Not right now,” you dismissed him.

“I only need a few minutes of your time,” Mephisto insisted.

“But –”

“Go ahead,” Satan sighed, assuming you were declining on his behalf. “We can continue this later.”

“Excellent.” Mephisto placed a firm hand on your back and quickly pushed you towards the newspaper room as if he had been waiting for Satan’s approval to steal you away. Of course, that was because Mephisto assumed you wanted to go with him – and usually you did.

The second Mephisto stepped foot into the empty newspaper room, he shut the door and pushed your back against it. His lips pressed to yours in hungry, ravenous kisses. Those warm, gloved hands took hold of you by the back of your neck as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. A low growl left him, vibrating through you. The need was tangible. You could taste how much he craved you.

Yet, you pushed the starved demon back. Mephisto stared at you, breath ragged and eyes bewildered. “Again?”

You could hardly keep track of the number of times you had given Mephisto the slip over the last few weeks. If you had to take a guess, perhaps eight. Every time Mephisto tried to pull you into an empty classroom or the newspaper room when he knew no one would be there, you either refused to go with him or you pushed him away as quickly as he had gotten his hands and lips on you. It had grown frustrating. Just last month, you had five different secret rendezvouses throughout the campus – with no complaints, Mephisto would add. Not all of them ending in sex, but it was at least enough to satisfy his growing desire for you. Now, you scarcely let him kiss you before you provided a half-baked excuse as to why you needed to leave.

“I need to meet Solomon for –” you started with another excuse, trying to maneuver out of his grasp.

“No.” Mephisto boxed you in against the door, his arms planted firmly on either side of your body.

“Isn’t this a bit cliché: trapping me against the door?” You rolled your eyes at him.

“What’s up with you?” Mephisto huffed and inched closer to your face, searching your eyes for anything that would explain your sudden withdrawal.

~

The answer he was searching for was that this was, for the most part, a punishment of his own making. Three weeks ago, you overheard a conversation between Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Mephisto. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you had a report to drop off, and they were all chatting in the student council room when you heard your name leave Diavolo’s mouth.

“Are you friends with MC already, Mephistopheles?” Diavolo asked.

“I beg your pardon, My Lord?” Mephisto sounded like he had been caught off guard. You knew you shouldn’t have been listening from the hallway, but you were equal parts anxious, curious, and hoping not to embarrass anyone by showing up right as they were talking about you.

“You seem to have taken a liking to them, am I wrong?”

“I have to agree, Young Master,” Barbatos concurred. “I’ve spotted you two together on multiple occasions, Mephistopheles. Certainly, you must be on friendly terms by now.”

“Is that so?” Diavolo mused. “Have you noticed anything, Lucifer?”

“MC has not mentioned Mephisto once in my presence, although I have seen them together. Perhaps it’s one-sided, then.”

“I have absolutely no interest in that human!” Mephisto interjected – loud and adamant.

Your heart sank when those words left his mouth. Although you couldn’t fault him for trying to keep the details of your relationship a secret, there was something harsh and cruel about his denial. It was so extreme. He wouldn’t even say your name. He had reduced you down to “that human.”

“Oh?” Diavolo questioned him. “That’s a shame. I was hoping you would get along.”

“We aren’t enemies, My Lord!” Mephisto tried to course-correct. “We just aren’t that friendly, is all.”

You took a deep breath before entering the council room.

“Ah, MC! What brings you in?” Diavolo greeted you. At that, Mephisto turned to stare, his face flushed with shame and guilt.

~

“Are you suddenly worried about doing this in public? I’ve been careful to lock the doors. Or,” Mephisto paused self-consciously, “do you not want me anymore? Is that why you won’t touch me?”

“Is that really what you think?” You sighed and crossed your arms. You might as well be honest. “How would you react if someone asked how I felt about you, and I told them I had no interest in ‘that demon?’ That wouldn’t hurt you?”

Mephisto’s eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about that incident – after a few days of embarrassment that kept him up at night, of course. He was mortified by your sudden arrival at the time, as if your name alone could summon you, but he never imagined you had heard what he said – although seeing you had filled him with instant regret. Unfortunately, when that guilt and regret came rushing back, Mephisto became defensive. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Lucifer. That human you’re all so fond of, well, I like them too now. Hope you enjoy more competition for their affection.’”

“That sounds exactly like something you would say.”

“And when has competing with Lucifer ever worked out for me, hm?” Mephisto ran his hand through his hair. “So, what, I tell him I want you, so he sinks his fucking claws in and takes you away from me? He hates to lose.”

“Fuck you.” His explanation irritated you. You understood that he was insecure, especially when Lucifer was involved, but Mephisto owed you more trust than that. By now, you thought you had proved that your feelings were not as fickle as he assumed them to be.

“Excuse me?” Mephisto furrowed his brows, surprised at your annoyance.

“Fuck. You,” you repeated.

Mephisto scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do for weeks.”

“Then get undressed.” You looked him up and down. “Now.”

“Really?” Enthusiasm bubbled up to the surface, and a grin bloomed on Mephisto’s face.

Mephisto yanked his jacket off and threw it over a nearby desk. His gloves, tie, and shirt quickly followed. Even your irritation with him couldn’t diminish the excitement you felt when watching him strip. Your resolution to avoid him had left you frustrated and wanting, too. Still, your lust didn’t nullify your anger, either.

When Mephisto put his hand on the side of your neck and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pushed back on his bare chest to stop him. He was about to question your continued rejection of his advances when you leaned in to bite his neck. A soft whimper escaped him. With one hand still on your neck, Mephisto used the other to try to remove your jacket. His already clumsy efforts came to a halt when you traced over the newly-formed mark with your tongue and squeezed his upper thigh in your hand, massaging small circles into his leg with your thumb. Mephisto let out a soft, pleased moan and tightened his grip on your clothes.

You chuckled, tickling his neck with your breath. Your hand slid further up until you were palming him through his pants. Mephisto gasped and let go of your neck only to bury his face into your shoulder.

“Mm, fuck. I forgot how good your touch feels,” Mephisto whispered shakily against your skin. His stomach flexed as pleasure rose in him.

You kissed from his neck, along his collarbone, and down his chest, leaving Mephisto’s flushed face exposed to the empty room. The hand that clung to your shirt let go to hold the back of your head as you peppered his chest with kisses and soft licks. When you finally focused your attention on one of his nipples, biting it gently before sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the combined pleasure and anticipation left Mephisto whining. His free hand shot up over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Mephisto had always made a decent attempt to keep the noise down when you fooled around in public, despite being so noisy in bed. He enjoyed the risk, but he was usually so careful. You gave him one more soft lick before you pulled back slightly to look up at him. The back of his hand was pressed firmly against his lips, and his eyes were half lidded – with his long lashes further obscuring his eyes as he stared at you in a lust-filled daze. A deep blush stained his cheeks and ears.

“Are you more sensitive than usual?” you teased, feeling a twitch beneath your palm.

“It’s been a while. I’m pent up.” Mephisto admitted sheepishly. He pulled his hand away from his face, revealing a slick spot of drool on his skin.

Straightening your back, you leaned close to whisper in his ear: “good.”

You rubbed over his bulge a few more times before finally undoing his pants, dropping them around his thighs, and taking his cock out. He was so hard and had already started leaking precum into his underwear. Mephisto shivered and gasped when you used his precum to lube up your hand and tease his tip. Within a few strokes, Mephisto had made enough of a mess that you could forgo alternate forms of lube.

Watching his face twist in pleasure while he bit his lip, trying to hold his moans back, you pumped Mephisto’s cock and coated his entire length with his own slick fluids. His breath grew shallow, and the moans began to escape in short, muffled whines like the initial cracks in a dam. Mephisto’s legs trembled under him, threatening to give out. You used your free hand to support his back, but it wasn’t quite enough.

“Sit on the desk behind you,” you demanded, letting go of his dick to place your hand firmly above his pelvis and push him back towards the edge of the desk.

“But it’s not mine,” he protested weakly. When had that ever stopped him before? Although, now that you thought about it, whenever you fucked in the newspaper room, it was usually up against a wall when his body could handle it, or at his own desk. It was almost cute that he respected other members of the newspaper club enough to try not to make a mess on their desks.

“Do it anyway,” you whispered in his ear. “Or would you rather hold onto your cane instead of me?”

You could have supported him more, or dragged him over to his desk, but you wanted to push him – test his desperation. You removed your hand from his back just long enough to carefully sweep any papers and obstructions to the side so Mephisto could sit comfortably. He shook his head and sat up on the desk with a soft thud.

“Good boy,” you cooed and continued to stroke him. Mephisto moaned and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. He unraveled just as quickly as before. Restrained whimpers echoed in your ear.

“I’m so close,” he panted. You slid your hand off him, earning an immediate whine. “W-wait. Why did you stop?”

“Why did you assume Lucifer could just take me away from you?” you questioned him. Your hand slid along his length, in slow, teasing movements. Mephisto throbbed at your touch.

“I, ah –!” You cut him off by sinking your teeth into his neck, causing him to writhe and arch his back. His yelp gave way to a guttural growl. “Fuck.”

“Well?” You licked over the bite mark.

“He���s just – he does that.”

“Mephisto,” you purred into his ear and gently scratched your nails down his chest. “Don’t I have any say in what happens?”

Once again, you started to tease Mephisto, stroking him at an achingly slow pace. Mephisto begged, “Faster. . . please?”

“Answer me.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Mephisto rolled his head back and groaned with no regard for anyone who could be walking nearby.

“Didn’t mean what?” You milked him for a proper answer.

“That your feelings don’t matter,” he admitted. You rewarded his acknowledgement by rubbing him faster. “Mm, yes. Please. Like that, don’t stop.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You slowed your pace down again, earning a whimper. Mephisto bucked his hips up to meet your hand, desperate for more.

“I –” he whined, still humping against your hand. “I’m afraid.”

The confession took you by surprise. When you pulled away, you noticed frustrated tears running down Mephisto’s cheek. His panting was labored and shaky. He was distraught. Using both of your hands, you firmly pressed his thighs into the desk.

“Of what?” you asked, watching the residual pleasure on his face give way to shame.

“I can’t. . .”

“Tell me.” You let go of one of his thighs to slowly rub his tip again. A sharp inhale preceded another muffled moan. He wasn’t trying to hold back his moan this time, though; Mephisto was trying to keep the answer bottled up in his chest. The glint of concern in your eyes and the continued stimulation was forcing him open.

“I don’t know why you want me. I don’t understand you. If I just – ahh, I’m gonna –” Mephisto interrupted his confession to warn you, lolling his head back and moaning. You stopped touching him again. Although he had expected it, Mephisto still groaned at yet another ruined orgasm.

“Finish what you were saying first.”

“If I – if I convince myself that it’s out of your control, then I won’t feel so bad when you decide to leave me – or stop having sex with me or don’t want to be around me anymore.”

You felt bad for him – not because it was stupid or pathetic to be worried about, but because it made sense. It was one thing to lose your partner because some bastard had the power and charm to steal people away. It was decidedly worse to know they left you because they just didn’t want you enough anymore. For the first time in weeks, you brought your lips to Mephisto’s and kissed him deeply until he was breathless. All the while, you thumbed his tip, teasing him just enough to keep him at the edge. Suddenly, you pulled away from him.

“Finish yourself off.” You kissed his cheek. “Or don’t.”

“Why?” Mephisto protested. “I told you the truth.”

“You told me that you think I’ll stop wanting you. So let me tell you something, too.” You leaned in, nearly pressing your lips to the side of his neck. “I want you so much. I can barely contain myself. I want you right now. I’ll want you tomorrow. I’ll want you for the foreseeable future. Can you trust in that much for now?”

“If you want me, then why won’t you finish me off?” It was humiliating for Mephisto, being so afraid to lose you, desperate, and hard all at once.

“I can want you without touching you. Actually, I changed my mind.” You walked over to Mephisto’s desk and pulled out the pack of wet wipes that you knew he kept in his bottom drawer. You wiped your hands off – still sticky with precum – and grabbed a few more wipes for Mephisto before returning to his side and handing them to him. “Don’t touch yourself. Stay like that – all hard and needy and desperate – for the rest of the day. I’ll walk you home later.”

A smile snuck up on Mephisto’s face, understanding your proposition. He agreed, “Okay, I’ll wait. But could you stay with me while I calm down?”

Confused, you studied his face. He was flustered and his eyes were damp with tears. Even his hair was a mess. “Why? I’m not going to change my mind and help you finish.”

“I know,” Mephisto chuckled. “I just want you to stay by my side for a little while. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You kissed his cheek, wiping away the salt residue from his tears, leaving an interrupted fossil of a stream. You took one of the spare wipes from his hand and brushed it over his cheek. “And Mephisto? I’m really sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. I avoided you because I was upset, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it – I didn’t know how the conversation would go, and I was worried it would only hurt. I should have said something, even if it was just that I was hurt and not ready to talk to you. I’ll try to do better next time. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine. You know, you play therapist too much for those brothers.” Mephisto laughed and nuzzled into your neck. He made no moves to get cleaned up and dressed yet, but he found the energy to tease you. “Please tell me orgasm denial and edging aren’t a part of your regular conflict resolution process.”

“You’re so cute,” you teased back, only exacerbating his blush and making his cock twitch. Dammit. He was so tempting, and he wasn’t even trying. You sighed, recommitting to wait until you got him home. With a gentle touch, you fixed his hair for him.

“Thank you, MC.” Mephisto grinned shyly. He still hadn’t calmed down completely, though.

As if you intended to test your resolve, you gave him another sweet, tender kiss. “You can thank me later.”

(November poll story pt. 1 - Lucifer version)

A/N: To be honest, I don't really know how I feel about this one. Hmm, but at least I can get back to requests after this, woo~ Don't forget that December's post poll is up and active for the first week of the month. While I do have opinions and preference, whatever happens is up to y'all. I never vote or look at the results until it's over, so I just wait around, hoping to be pleasantly surprised. As I've mentioned, this blog turns one later this month, so I'll do a post about that in a few days, so please look forward to it.

#moss poll fic #mephistopheles #gn!mc #spice tier #Why do I want to ruin Mephisto in public so badly? Something about him just says please mess me up and let half the Devildom hear me moan #This blog has made my affection for him worse. Thanks #obey me #obey me mephistopheles #mephistopheles smut #mephistopheles x reader #obey me mephisto #obey me smut

[anxious-witch]

Okay. Long awaited analysis of Jure's pictures. As always, this is entirely subjective and I don't claim to be 100% right about ny interpretations. Apologies if I am a bit scatterbrained, I just had to write this today despite vibrating out if my skin.

Anyway, let's get to it

So I went ahead and rearranged the pictures in a way that I think fit together.

We start off with these two(sorry for blurryness, it just turned out like this when I cropped them). But funnily enough, I think we have Jure as the opposite of everyone else. Where the rest seemed to gain protection and safety from clothes, I feel like Jure feels stiffled by them.

In these two, he looks most lonely and disconnected than in any other photos from the photoshoot. In the first one, he is in a position akin to the one we saw him before, in that box. Like a cat lounging on the floor. But he is looking away, giving a picture a sense of loneliness, of disconnection. And even before we see him with a cigarette in picture two, there is an ash tray to indicate the smoking.

Then immediately following is this. Jure begins to take off his clothes, his pants and underwear pulled down messily, he is pulling his sweater up. He is still smoking here, but he is also looking directly at the camera. His eyes are frame by a dark eyeliner.

When I was looking at the pictures for the first time, I didn't get the connection until I saw this picture. I am gonna jump the gun and say that I think this set is literally meant to serve as a seduction. Who did they vote for the most likely to sleep with a fan? Jure. Who said hookup when everyone else said relationship? Jure again.

My interpretation is, as crude as it sounds, is that he is connecting with the viewer here through sex and seduction.

Here we have this again. He is only in his underwear and wearing a jacket. I'd even go as far to speculate that it's not meant to be his jacket. Because he is looking to feel closer to the person he is seducing. He'll put on makeup and their clothes, all for the show, all to be seen and to seduce. And I think that's what this photoshoot is, a way for Jure to be seen in a new light.

Interstingly, he seems to have mostly open body language so far in all pictures. In this one he seems slightly more closed off, with his knees pulled closer to his chest and his arm resting on top of them.

Then in this set, we have what I like to think of as "the morning after". There is no makeup, there is no clothes. Jure looks almost superior in the first picture. He reminds of Roman Emperor reclining.

Romans used to have parties, usually reserved only for men, where the position you got on the reclining bed could speak of your position. Here we have Jure alone, in the center. This is his moment and he is completely relaxed, completely in power. He isn't shying away from the camera, there is not shyness due to his almost naked state. Like someone would, after a suceesful seduction.

In the second picture, that's even more openly expressed. His head is fully turned to the camera, his eyes even more intense. It's as if he is inviting us in, drawing us closer. I can't tell if there is a different balnket altogether or if it's shifted and the end of it seems like a slightly different material.

Either way, I can't see anything but him pulling a lover closer once again.

Third picture is....well. Obviously there are certainly other interpretations, but to go with the obvious, Jure seems to be very open here, even has his eyes closed and that paired up with the way his body is positioned implies pleasure to me. Which once again plays into the whole set being about seduction, and about connection that he seems to gain from physical closeness.

In all three pictures, Jure is wearing a chain necklace around his neck. Interestingly enough, he doesn't wear them in the first set. Perhaps implying this is something new he decided to adorn himself with? Or a steel he wears underneath?

Then we have shirtless Jure, and an reappearance if a chain necklace. He is even openly acknowledging the necklace by touching it. With the addition of Damon's quote: "your art intertwined with my art", I think we can once again reaffirm this is a new way Jure wants to be seen. He is an art all of his own, even when surrouded by the art of the rest of his bandmates, he gets to be a central piece in this one. Yet-in the two pictures on the right, he has closed off body language.

Perhaps he is still unsure of the new role he wants. His gaze is softer, less intense. He is letting us take him in as he is. Which is clearly difficukt for him, hence mire closed off body language but none the less, he is still showing us that.

As always, feel free to add in on these, I feel like I missed on a lot of things bc of everything they dropped on us today but damn. I love this photoshoot sm

#joker out #rio rambles #rio's analysis #jure maček

[planetdream]

i heard joshua, wonwoo and mingyu so what about a foursome-

literally had to put my head in my hands for a few minutes after reading this....I am going to bite a brick

thinking about the roles they'd play oh god....mingyu being just so soft and sweet. a provider of support and pleasure. really just wants to takes care of you and occasionally lets the others order him around and direct him on how exactly to fuck you. joshua is adaptable—of the three he really does whatever he wants; however he phrases it as 'going with the flow'. there are nights where josh is sickly sweet, overwhelming you with with his light, and easy going demeanor knowing that he could switch to overpowering hard dom as he pleases. wonwoo generally leads everything [josh serving as a second in command]. he's tough, intense, almost unnerving in the way his demeanor hardly ever changes [except during aftercare]. as hard of a dom as wonwoo can be, deep in his heart he is certainly a pleasure dom.

"you know how to use your words, baby, tell mingyu how you feel." what joshua says is less than a suggestion and more of a lighter demand.

"i feel..." you scan your mind trying to find the worst to say. but with the way mingyu is fucking you, it's hard to keep your composure, let alone, form a response. "...good."

"only good, angel?" asks mingyu, playing it off as if he's slightly disappointed. though, he might be a little upset, increasing his pacing. bringing your hand up to plant a kiss before he takes your hand, pressing it against your lower abdomen. mingyu rolls his hips back, one slooow thrust into you before he fucks into you deeper, and faster than before.

the impact tears a moan from you, and wonwoo is ready to mend that—not allowing mingyu the satisfaction of hearing those pretty moans of yours—cock sliding into your mouth. the warmness of your mouth paired with the vibrations of your moans makes wonwoo's cock twitch. "so good. breathe through your nose. that's it."

if the stimulation of two cocks wasn't enough, joshua reappears. your free hand reaches out for him. fingertips ghosting his thighs, aching to feel his cock in the palm of your hand.

"two cocks in you and you want another?" josh teases you. "are they not fucking you well enough? you need me too? just a selfish little cockslut."

#[💌] ˚｡⋆ #✰˚. !! dream.hardhours #☁️ — daydream.svt #joshua hong smut #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

[finniestoncrane]

Punishment/Reward

Arkham!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 550 oh some absolute sweetheart requested this on ao3 and i couldn't help myself because i have been giddy over him again 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fingering, cockwarming, teasing, orgasm denial, reader has a pussy but no gendered language is used

Eddie’s hand reached up to you, curling around your throat and tensing, python like in the confident, predatory grasp he held you in. 

“There were set stipulations to this agreement, and I am being very considerate in giving you a warning, first.”

You struggled briefly, trying to choke your words out, instead opting for a silent nod in understanding. There had been a formal discussion, with Eddie laying out his rules in advance of submitting to your will, and you had graciously accepted them. They had been reasonable, after all, you mused, as you played it over in your mind.

“If you want to be filled, I can satiate that desire. But you won’t move. You won’t speak. And you won’t be a hindrance to my concentration. Deal?”

Ever cock-hungry, only where Eddie was concerned, you had nodded so hard and enthusiastically your head had begun to hurt, only stopping when he had lifted your chin in his gloved hand and looked into your eyes with a confidence that always stirred both terror and arousal deep within your core.

“Very good.”

And now, here you were, breaking that rule already. So desperate, your body aching with an intensity and desire so strong you’d forgotten where you were, and who you were disobeying, and had begun to roll your hips a little as you sat on his lap. Of course, this disobedience would not go unnoticed, certainly not by Eddie. Despite the fact his cock throbbed inside of you, twitching with every slight stroke of it against your insides, he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, let you bend the rules. Every misdemeanour deserved punishment, even to his own pleasure’s detriment. 

“Now, if you’re going to misbehave, I will have to make you atone for it.”

He bucked his hips up once, thrusting himself up to the hilt, holding you down, one hand on your throat, one hand on your thigh. 

“Do. Not. Move.”

The hand on your thigh moved to your front to play with you, teasing you, taunting you cruelly as he growled in your ear. Rough fingers skirting over sensitive, tingling skin while you tensed your body in a desperate attempt to remain as still as possible.

“My, my. What a mess you’re making.”

He removed his hand from you and held it in front of your face, prying his finger and thumb apart and bringing them together again, displaying strands of your arousal as they stretched between his digits. You didn’t need the example, you were more than aware of how wet you were, dripping onto his cock as it pulsed, still, steady, hard, within you. 

His fingers moved to your mouth, pushing down on your bottom lip and placing his fingers on your tongue, letting you taste yourself. You choked back a soft gasp, imagining that any sound would count as “against the rules”, but he quickly pulled the digits out and cooed softly into your ear. 

“Oh, now… I’m not completely without empathy. If it helps, you may make some noise. I will admit to finding your pathetic mewling somewhat of a stroke to my ego.”

You whined, almost on command, a strangled sound that vibrated through you. It didn’t make it any easier however, but you knew neither of you could last much longer. Or at least, you hoped.

#finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse

[quinloki]

Doflamingo - Tension/Denial

Reader style - she/her AFAB Time slot - After Hours Client Name - @thus-spoke-lo CW: ropes under clothes, vibrators under clothes, vaginal dildo, anal dildo, power play, mentions of debt

You stood beside Donquixote Doflamingo. You weren’t speaking, and you weren’t being spoken to. You’d been hired by him for the entire evening. The debate on what was and wasn’t allowed between the two of you, and Shakky had lasted almost two hours the week before. You were new, it wasn’t generally allowed by the Club for someone like Doflamingo to deal with a new escort.

The amount he paid was enough to knock 10% off your debt. A hefty amount for someone under so many restrictions.

All because you didn’t flinch when your paths crossed the first time. There was a network of ropes under your clothes, and five vibrators. Other escorts had put it all together on you while Doffy watched, and the control was in his hands. Your job was to simply stand beside him for the evening, dressed in such a way that you looked more like his assistant, than an employee of the club.

He was engaged with any one and every one who would walk by. Turning on the vibrators at a whim. Sometimes just before someone came over, sometimes after he’d been talking to them for several minutes. There was, as far as you could tell, no way to determine when he was going to click that fucking button.

The vibrators on your nipples were obvious to anyone who gave you more than just a cursory nod. You expected the one snug against your clit to be the most distracting, but the final two were the worst. They didn’t just vibrate, they squirmed, brushing against and teasing places in your pussy and ass that you didn’t know where so godsdamned sensitive.

You got paid no matter what, but there was a prize if you could make it through the entire evening without breaking. A prize that was worth it’s weight in platinum, as far as you were concerned.

Doffy would let you peg him.

You could cum, but you needed to do so silently. You couldn’t use your safeword if you wanted that prize, and you couldn’t speak to Doffy unless he prompted you. Perhaps more than that, you couldn’t ignore him if he decided to speak to you.

Off.

On.

Off.

On, and on, and on, and gods you were at the edge when the sensations cut. You couldn’t help the small, inaudible sigh of relief, and you regretted it the second it escaped your lips.

The vibrators whirred to life again, and then began to vibrate more intensely than they had the entire night. You sucked your lips into your mouth, clenched your fists, and curled your toes inside your shoes.

“Something the matter, Miss?” Doffy questions, turning his attention, and the attention of his officers toward you.

“Not at all sir.” You answer as neutrally as you can. You’re nearly at the edge of things again and the vibrations cut off. You look at him at the realization, and see the terrible grin spread across his face.

“Are you sure? Certainly there must be something you’d like to… request?” The vibrations come back at full strength again and you have to steady yourself against the chair he’s in for a split second before you can right yourself again.

“I am… doing quite well, sir. I don’t… need,” you nearly growl the word as the vibrations cut off again. “Anything. Thank you, though, for your consideration, sir.”

“Mmm.” He hums, tongue flicking against his lips. He motions you closer and you lean down. His next words are soft, low, for your ears only. “Scream my name when you cum, little pet, long and loud in this common area where everyone will hear you, and I’ll pay off your entire debt.”

On.

One Piece Host Club AU drabble event runs through December 2023

#One Piece Host Club AU #December Drabble Event 2023 #One Piece Fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #donquixote doflamingo

[diorsbrando]

DAN HIROKI WITH SEX TOYS.

LINA !!!!!! *shakes you violently and then kisses you excessively* baby....sweetums....i am so so SOOO INFINITELY SAWRY that i have not gotten to this ask any sooner than now, it's been over two weeks and i just feel plain awful about it :(( the last few weeks have been busier in school finals are approaching but im here now !! i hate giving half-assed replies so yeah :') can't wait to see u add this to ur dan hiroki master list <3 let's get into this tho :) DAN HIROKI SUPREMACY !!! @touyyes we back on our shit again heheheheee

okay so! dan hiroki with sex toys is one of those things you wouldn't expect to see in your relationship. i mean, he is just so so good at pleasing you already, the rotation between his mouth, fingers and cock made you feel like you were ascending. so of course you would have never expected him to invest in a little 'assistance'.

dan was very secure in himself, and even more so now that he shared his apartment, as well as his heart and soul with you, so his pride was never wounded, or his ego prodded at when the thoughts of getting a few toys for you to play with crossed his mind every now and again. dan loved you, so much, but he loved the way your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and the way you'd drool as you called out his name like a prayer even more. a pretty little angel like you should be able to get a taste of heaven too right? not just common mortals like him. that's what hiroki believed, and that's certainly how he felt when you squeezed and clamped around his cock when you came, or taste the sweet nectar that dripped from your budding flower whenever he sucked on your clit like a pacifier.

and after serving a despicable man a cold plate of chilling justice, his clothes tattered in blood stains, he had done some research online and this only confirmed and unearthed one his deepest desires regarding you: he wanted to see his pretty angel completely come undone without him even touching you.

and the perfect opportunity arose when he-- as trivial as it may sound-- caught you talking negatively about yourself. dan is one of those men that get truly offended when their partner says something about themselves, like their physical features, their personality, the way they think or feel, literally anything. he hardly expresses that much emotion but little did you know, you had spelled your own doom for your poor little cunt.

this leads to the present, where he softly commanded you to spread your legs as wide as you could and keep them open, lest you wanted to be punished further (his words shouldn't have made your pussy pulsate but it did). you're not even sure how much time has passed but you knew it had to be at least 20 minutes that you've held the blue vibrator against your pussy, not daring to move your arm even an inch, because your beloved hiroki was watching you-- intensely at that, his cock straining against his pants, practically trying to push its way free. but his face remained steely with a mask like calmness, a subtle smile permanently etched on his perfect lips. the way his gaze never left yours sent a chill down your spine.

he had gotten one of those bluetooth vibrators that you could control remotely and man, did he have a ball with that, at the expense of dangling the sweet feeling of orgasming in front of your nose, just to yank it away again at the last minute. he'd also had you repeat the same sentence over and over: i'm the prettiest girl in the world, because yes, all of this stemmed from you talking negatively about yourself, and it genuinely confused him because he never saw you in a negative light; not now and probably not ever. and whenever your words faltered or became a little too jumbled (or he just wanted to tease you, he's a kinky bastard man for that) he'd turn up the intensity to its max, making you arch your back and scream out the words loud and clear, just how he liked, or turn it down to its lowest when you were so focused on cumming you didn't bother putting forth any effort. it went on like this for what felt like ages, and he only stopped because the aching in his pants was becoming a little irritating and made his eye twitch.

you were just on the verge of cumming again, before he completely turned off the toy, gingerly taking it from your hands and tossed it somewhere on the bed. slipping off his pants and boxers in one swift motion, he wordlessly climbed on top of you and pushed your trembling legs all the way back to your chest, so your twitchy, puffy, glistening clit was on full display (as if it wasn't before). putting all of his weight on top of you to kiss your tears away, you hissed and felt your body shake when his shaft rubbed against your cunt. you were so sensitive, hiroki could have came right there just from seeing you underneath him like this. "my sweet girl, you performed wonderfully for me, did so good."

his praise dragged a pathetic whine, needy mewl from the back of your throat. "i'm your good girl hiro!! p-promise i am!!! i am!!" the dark haired man stared at you in awe. his 'persuasion' had worked. after he was done with you, he was definitely going to order a bulk of more playthings to try out on you.

"i know you are angel, i know you are. and now i'll give you your reward now."

#sosa’s filez 💭 #zorotits #dan hiroki supremacy 🛐 #idek where i was going w this #like as i kept writing my brain went into overdrive and um #well yeah😭😭😭😭 #i hope u like this one :)) #!mdni #!nsfw #!smut #!sex toys

[omniblades-and-stars]

That Nilea’s abrupt departure from C-Sec also happened to coincide with dinner with her mother and brother seemed like the universe was just dropping a pile of varren shit in her lap as a joke. She spent what few hours remained of her day before dinner practicing how she was going to explain the situation to her mother while seriously considering skipping out on the meal entirely and simply hopping the next passenger transport to anywhere but the Citadel or Palaven.

It would certainly be easier than disappointing the elder Octaril woman.

The meal passed awkwardly as Nilea tried to find a good time to interject and tell everyone what happened. All of her well thought words and plans went sailing right out of the window when Cyprian spoke up. “Nilea, there's a rumor going around that you quit today,” he said with that devilish tone that every little brother used when they just knew they were about to get their sibling into a world of trouble.

The air was sucked out of the room and both of the Octaril women dropped their utensils onto their plates at the same time while that bastard, Cyprian, took a bite of his food with a smug glimmer in his eye. Nilea began fantasizing about the most satisfying way she could murder her brother for this.

Juna Octaril leveled Nilea with an intense, blue eyed stare, effectively reducing Nilea down to a trembling fledgling without so much as speaking a word. “Did you quit, Nilea?” She asked with her mandibles planted firmly against her mouth.

Nilea shot a fiery look at Cyprian, unable to stop the angry vibrations knocking around in the back of her throat. After taking a sip of wine and coughing as it took the wrong path down, she finally broke her silence. “Yes, mother, I did.”

“Why?” Straight to the point as always with Juna.

“The Vicus-Key case. I spent months working it, did everything exactly by the books and then some. My case was airtight, you know I don't cut corners,” Nilea began to explain. Her mother nodded her head, allowing Nilea to continue. They may not have had a warm relationship by any measure of the word, but Juna knew her daughter to be thorough and dilligent, just as she was raised to be. “Captain made me drop it because it's a bad look to arrest a human celebrity. Garbage politics, as always.”

“Is that what happened? Everyone's saying it's because you were so awful to Simmons he went and committed suicide,” Cyprian asked at low, scandalous whisper.

Nilea stood up in a flash and slammed her hands into the table as she leaned in towards him, “I may not have liked Simmons, Cyprian, but he deserves better than to be fodder for your jokes!”

Inappropriate, cruel jokes seemed to be the station-wide pass time of C-Sec officers of every stripe. Nilea had grown tired of that too.

“Children!” Juna snapped loudly, glaring at both of them like they were naughty teenagers. “Cyprian, I am disappointed that you would speak of a dead man so. A man taking his own life is a serious matter, and should be treated as such,” she chastised the younger of her two children. Nilea returned to her seat with a disgruntled huff, while Cyprian had the good sense to wipe the smirk from his mouth plates.

“I won't be a tool for a corrupt and cruel organization. Today was the final straw, and a long time coming,” Nilea concluded coolly and met her mother's eyes. For once, she saw something that almost looked like pride.

The look didn't last much longer, unfortunately.

“Have you thought about what you'll do now?,” mother asked calmly.

“I have not. It's only been a few hours, wasn't planning on quitting when I woke up this morning.”

Juna got a wistful look in her eyes and Nilea dreaded the direction this conversation was going. Dread on top of dread, and you know what, add a sprinkling of more dread on top for good measure. “You could re-enlist. The Scout Sniper Corps could use your talents,” she suggested very seriously.

Add a big dollop of dread on top of that.

“No, absolutely not,” Nilea snapped before she could stop herself from the insulting way her words leapt from her mouth.

“Come on, Nilea, it's what I would do,” Cyprian added, genuine for the first time that whole evening.

Nilea was growing warm and quickly losing grasp on her composure again, “Yeah, Cyprian, if I liked the taste of boot as much as you, maybe I would re-enlist.”

Spirits, she hadn't meant to say that. The look her mother shot her was withering. “Nilea, it's your sworn duty to-”

“No, mother, it's not! You think the Hierarchy is any better than C-Sec just because it's our own government? I'm not a tool for controlling the masses,” Nilea answered hotly and stood, her chair scraped against the floor, grinding against her nerves as much as it did her ears. She began gathering her things. This was an old argument. It came up any time Nilea expressed frustration over how her job at C-Sec was going.

“Nilea, come back here!”

“No. Enjoy dinner with Cyprian. I'm leaving.”

A growl erupted from Juna's throat. “Not only do you look like your father, you act like him too.”

Nilea didn't dignify such a low blow with a response.

Nilea didn't just leave dinner, she left the Citadel entirely that night. It was the first time she'd ever done anything without a plan.

#wip #pass the knife #out of context nilea posting? #your honor i just think about these girls a lot #daisy screaming into the void

[quills-of-freedom]

Short Story~

Teacups ☕

Male bodied reader X Yelena

Lord be with you

I am now tainted

Warnings: Smut. Dominating Yelena.

The harsh snap sound of the belt peirced the air as Yelena turns to face you, pulling at the strap of leather with force; her grin spreading wider.

“Well now. We have been a naughty boy, haven’t we?”

“Babe, it was an accident I swear!” You plead. Although you were enjoying her being this dominant, your “punishment” was genuinely misplaced.

“Is that so?” She sighs in an almost boredom.

“Yes!” You insist. “It just slipped out of my hand and I -”

“And you broke my favourite tea cup. Accidental or not, you did it. And now you must face the consequences.”

Ah, shit.

She struts towards you where she had you tied with your hands above your head. You’d fallen for it again. She’ll act all horny and sweet and once your guard is down, bam! You’re in a scissor lock and being tied up.

You begin to get nervous when you see that insane spark trying to ignite behind her eyes.

You flinch when she raises her arms above you - but relax in a cautious curiosity when she places the belt between your teeth.

“Don’t speak.” She orders. “You’re going to need that.”

You whimper almost comically wondering why you get yourself in these situations.

Because you love it, that’s why.

Your cock was already rock solid from the luring teasing shed done before tying you up, the excitement of your “punishment” only adding fuel to the fire; especially now she was stripping off her clothes.

She turns and fumbles with something out of view.

“mmhmhmmm??” You ask.

“Shut up.”

You let out a sigh through your nose. Here we go again.

Eventually she turns, revealing she’d equipped a strap on, with a huge veiny cock attached to it.

Where the fuck did she get that from?!

She climbs onto the bed when you notice she has what looks like elastic bands in her fingers.

“mhmhm…?”

“I said, shut up.” She pings one of them off your shaft, making you cry out in a pleasured pain.

She then places her face close to your dick.

“Aw, how can I stay mad at you?” She begins to sensually and sloppily kiss your dick.

You didn’t know if she was talking to you or your manhood, but either way, the way she was now slobbering over you felt amazing.

You moan loudly, the leather vibrating your lips as she pushes your cock down her entire throat. She’d always been amazing at that.

The room was now full of slopping, popping and squelching as she fucks you with her skull devishly. Your grip on your restraints tighten when she suddenly… Stops.

You look down and see here fumbling as she tightly fastens one of the bands around the base of your cock, constricting all of the blood flow into the muscle.

She then begins to lightly slap her prosthetic dick off yours, seemingly enjoying the little sword fight to herself for a few moments.

“Yelnhmhm!” You scowl.

“Hm? Oh. Right.” She shakes her head.

She moves her head down and fits your balls into her wide mouth, slobbering and sucking them, before spitting on your arsehole, running her tongue down your crack and prodding it inside, fumbling with your sack with her hands.

It was a strange sensation but God did it feel good. It distracted you from your constricted cock that was becoming an alarming shade of crimson.

She spat some more, and again, drooling all over your manhood and hole before sitting up and lining up her cock to your heat.

“Prepare yourself.” She mutters in a monotonous tone before beginning to prod the head into you.

Your eyes sting and you’re certainly glad she’d given you that belt to bite down on as it felt like she was ripping you apart from the inside.

“Are we good?” She checks in when she’s half submerged.

You nod.

“good.”

It takes a little while but she’s eventually fully inside you, spitting down for some more lubricant as she slowly begins to rock.

Your back arches, feeling so full and the pleasure was so intense, you thought your cock was going to swell and snap that elastic.

“Take me.” She grins manically. “Take all of me. Take your punishment, you filth.”

She grabs your hips to help here thrust you into the next world - your cock aching now, needing to be released.

“plsmsnsmmm”

“What’s that?” She smirks.

You push out the belt with your tongue.

“Please god, Yelena I can’t take it! Let me cum, touch me! Take that damn band off!”

“Are you sorry?”

She’s still thrusting.

“Yes! I’m sorry!”

“For?”

“For breaking your damn cup, I’ll buy you another, fuck me, please!”

With a satisfied smile she removes the band, the release of pressure heavenly as she strokes you, still moving her hips in rhythm.

You cry out, you cuss, you hiss… You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing as you leave your body, your huge orgasm just around the corner.

Her nails dig into your flesh with her free hand.

“Yes. Feed me.” She marvells, feeling you twitch and tense.

You fucking roar when you cum, she reaches over and opens her mouth as you shoot your mess, more cum than you thought was possible to be held inside your sacks.

Eventually you thought you were spitting out dust, as you seemed to stop your surging eruption of cum, but you still seemed to be orgasming.

Once you finally settle down and your vision returns, you look down to see Yelena’s face covered in your thick white mess, licking her lips.

“Have you learned your lesson?” She asks, slowly removing the cock.

“…I’m never making you tea again.”

#yelena x you #yelena snk #yelena smut

[katieboo13]

Would anybody be interested in me posting this fic, which I’m currently finishing, on AO3?

It’s a song inspired fic inspired by Act My Age by Hoodie Allen. The papaya boys fit it so well.

Oscar pov

McLaren must have some sick sense of humor. Their latest social media video idea is to have us, the youngest team on the grid, play with nostalgic childhood toys. No wonder everyone looks at Lando and I like we’re so child like, even the pr team is fucking leaning into it.

With two weekends in a row of the papaya car looking like it belongs in the race, now is the time to get serious and double down on the fact that we deserve to be here. We’re here to compete. With just Spa left before summer break, it’s one last chance to prove that I’m not just a rookie, I’m a future WDC.

And yet, here I am, sitting on these uncomfortable papaya chairs across from Lando who is wearing a facial expression that conveys that he is much more excited than I to be playing with children’s toys.

That’s the thing you have to love about Lando, he lives life with an air of childlike happiness. Sure, he’s spent time with his Monaco based best friend Max “I’m going to adopt the Kimi Raikkonen press strategy” Verstappen, but generally Lando is like a glass of champagne— sweet and bubbly, and you can help but join in on the laughter and smiles after a while around him.

He’s survived his rookie year, he’s gone through two older and more experienced teammates, he is loved by the grid and fans alike. And yet, around me he isn’t the wiser older teammate, but more like a class clown. Trying to break my façade and encouraging me to loosen up.

Easier said than done.

And he must know. I’m stressed beyond belief. I’ve seen the revolving door of teammates at McLaren. They’re willing to invest in youth but I know I need to be up to their standards or I might be packing my bags. Even at Prema, I was never the outgoing or fun seeking teammate.

I have seen the YouTube video comments. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy and encourage the antics of Fred, Robert, Arthur, and Logan— I just have a dream, a goal, and a need to focus to get there.

Logan understands. We grew up together. He saw me build confidence in myself, and I him. Despite what the racing world thinks of the American pilot, he’s not an off duty frat boy in a fast car, he’s shy and reserved in the paddock. And other drivers can sense it around him too.

We stick together because that’s how it’s always been. I calm him and he calms me. When given the opportunity, like when we are given the larger busses for the drivers parade, I stay with Lo because I know that his presence will regulate my emotions.

But now. In this Papaya room, Lando is having the opposite effect.

He’s squirming in his chair, struggling to get comfortable, and giggling like crazy. Even the media team is getting antsy. And he’s just looking at me. Big puppy eyes and all. Sitting leaned sideways in the chair like a lunatic, laughing. His stubbly beard and mustache he’s so proud of making him look his age in comparison to me.

It’s endearing really. How he can place p2 two weekends in a row, and still be this giddy before a race.

Although, his placing high has led to some interesting team bonding.

After Silverstone I found myself being dragged along with a thrilled Lando, who was practically vibrating with excitement. A second place finish in your home Grand Prix is certainly worth celebrating, but my fourth place was not. And yet he had convinced me to do a shoey on stage. His big puppy eyes, skin coated in sticky sweet champagne, and a crowd behind him watching my resolve crumble.

That’s where it all started. Somehow that resulted in me, being dragged into a hotel lift by a somewhat equally intoxicated Lando. The world was spinning by and my skin felt gloriously warm. Lando was hiccuping and giggling at us every time we tripped over our own feet.

Once inside the lift, Lando looked at me with an intensity that I’m not sure my sober self even now, two weeks later, can unpack. Suddenly I was not so sure what the cause of the heat on my skin was. Because even my ex girlfriend had never looked at me like she was that… hungry?

I hadn’t even intended to get this inebriated. But Lando kept buying us drinks. And I kept finishing them. And now.

Now I’m looking at this man, my older teammate, as he grabs a Barbie doll still in her box, and I can even feel the doe eyed dopey look on my own face. Lando breaks my internal struggle by waving poor Barbie in my face.

Can’t he act his own age?

After the video has been filmed and we are released for the day, only mildly worse for the wear— the audience now knows I might have consumed some play dough as a child— I stop him in the hall.

“Can’t you act your age?”

“Mate why would I want to… we missed out on being normal teenagers. Went to races on weekends and not secondary school parties. I was worried about racing license points, and not having a fake ID to get into pubs. Everybody else is growing up and getting jobs and isn’t going out and getting drunk, but I want to. We deserve to act a little childish.”

His response makes sense, but not at all. I gave up everything in order to get here. Now is not the time to just party.

“Osc, let me show you that growing up is lame. Let me show you why it’s a good thing to not act my age.”

Osc.

He called me a nickname.

Fuck.

My stomach didn’t just flip at the use of the nickname from my teammate. My face isn’t going red. My neck isn’t hot. And Lando definitely isn’t looking at me like a man who knows what he has done.

Nope.

#f1 #lando norris #oscar piastri #mctwinks #smut #well smut eventually

[rockofeye]

The Charnel Ground

Note: when I write about Gede, I am always referring to the entire family of Gede unless I am naming particular Gede. I usually refer to Gede as a singular he, because that is easiest to write and Gede most often presents himself as male though there are Gede of all genders out there.

If the average person is going to be able to relate to anything about Haitian Vodou, they are probably going to relate to the idea of Gede; the lascivious dead man with a skull face and sunglasses and penis jokes. It's all true in it's own way, but when I write about Gede I keep coming back to the other ways I know Gede because that's probably the way I have come to know all of them best. It probably says a lot about who I am at heart, which, like so many things, I learn more about day-by-day.

The older I get, the more introspective I find myself becoming. It's a gift mostly; when I was younger, I was the exact opposite. I used to think a lot about what was happening to me and in my life but it was sort of like a car stuck in mud and spinning its wheels. My brain was busy getting dirty with anxiety and a lot of fear, but not a lot of thinking about the whys and hows of my life and what my part and my role in things were. It took a lot of time to break those particular patterns and get the car out of the mud, and the lwa really dug in on refining that. It's one of the biggest areas of change I can see in myself since they really got to work on me in the djevo. Most of the time I don't react or don't feel like I need to react immediately to something and instead take time to chew on it, usually while remaining in a place where I can seek to see the big picture from as wide a viewpoint as possible, versus being totally swayed by my own emotions.

Finding myself as an introspective person has really led me to looking for internal stillness, as much as is possible. I initially wrote 'internal peace' but peace is a missed opportunity for change.

My life is chaotic from the jump. I work in a high stress, high intensity field that can have very little room for error and carries a not insignificant risk of personal harm, whether because it is an essential service that doesn't close for pandemic or violence or anything in else. In the last week, I had one client descend rapidly in catatonia and be committed to a psychiatric hospital, another client who recently got out of a psychiatric hospital have a relapse of serious symptoms that put them at risk, and, for the first time in 15 years, a client took a swing at me (I am fine, not really significant). I work a ton because the staffing crisis is real, and like any good houngan/manbo/servitor, I hustle on the side and do what I need to do to make sure my ventures are successful.

That's a lot of vibrating wildly on a daily basis as the baseline for life. So, stillness. I look for it. I compartmentalize carefully and create distance so that I can come home from work and sit on my couch and watch Netflix without constantly re-running my day or carrying the heaviness that comes from carrying other people's heaviness or dreading going into work.

This is where I have found Gede in recent times, in the stillness that leaves all other happenings at the gate. For me, Gede is a hundred different things wrapped up in a funeral suit and crushed hat, but in this space he is my witness. There isn't anything to say and nothing to do, but he is there as I metaphorically sit and breathe and witness my own self. It has become how I often find I need him most now, though it is certainly not the only way he moves in my life.

This layer of my experience with Gede has had me really considering Gede in all his myriad faces. It would be hubris to say that I know Gede or understand Gede in totality, but I can understand the pieces he shows me and allows me to chew on, just like I chew on my understandings of myself. How it all tastes makes me feel kind of silly for not seeing it before and not pinning it down a little more for myself, but I also know that Gede's timing is impeccable and maybe I didn't need to see it before or wasn't ready to see it. Or...maybe everyone else has seen it and I'm late to the party?

We understand Gede to have been the most recently incarnate of all of the families of lwa who may have once had literal feet on the ground and with the deepest understanding of what it is to be human. For me, that means Gede also carries the heaviness that comes with being human. He remembers the joys and happiness of life but also the pains and moments of suffering and bitterness....and yet comes out with the gouyad. Why?

I believe that Gede really is most concerned with transformation. In all the ways I have known him, he has always been intimately involved in these processes of change that lead to something different. He takes the heaviness of life and kind of shrugs at it, because he is dead now. Being dead now means he doesn't have to hold onto the heaviness in the same way and so he can gouye in front of the drums and gouye on his people and gouye a new path forward when there was previously none. It is choosing to transform heaviness into sweetness without forgetting the the sometime bitter taste of life.

Gede tells a lot of jokes and says things that are funny, but in that and in the gouyad I have found him incredibly serious. For me, Gede speaks and acts how he does because it is of course part of who he is, but also because it opens the door for transformation. You can hear the deepest truth when he sings a song about having sex with your mother and then turns to you and strikes at your very heart with the message he has for you personally. His gouyad is work, in every sense of the word. Because it is portraying something we hold as private and (in some ways) as vulnerable, it makes us laugh to see him in his suit and his broken glasses and battered hat covered in powder hip thrusting at the drums and on the serious older Haitian man who came to the fet in church clothes and on the manbo who blushes and poking his baton-penis into the young man who looks like he wishes the earth itself would open and swallow him right up.

But it is also work. It transforms something that can come with stigma into something sacred, even if it is sacred embarrassment, and that transformation changes us. It relieves us of our own heaviness, even for a moment, and it interrupts the patterns in our lives and allows us to realign them just a bit, even if we don't see it or even consider it. How does that work? Let me tell you the story that kicked off the whole thought process that birthed this blog post.

Last year at this time, I wasn't working a regular job. I had taken a voluntary layoff from a position in the spring that I thought was my dream job working for my dream agency. It Was Not, and in fact was kind of a nightmare...the grass is not always greener in the end. It wasn't a bad move for me because it had increased my income in a giant leap at a time where I needed a lot of cash at my disposal, but it was clearly not where I was meant to be overall.

I was working some side gigs and collecting unemployment, and was having an absolute bitch of a time finding a regular job. My resume is solid and I carry a good reputation in my field, but I just wasn't getting call backs and was getting pretty desperate because the end of unemployment was coming and I had zero prospects. We were having our Gede fet, and I took just a moment to chat with him. I didn't even talk to him about work, but about another personal matter that was on my heart.

It wasn't a long conversation, and he waved off what I was trying to say to him, telling me that this other area of my life was basically doing too much. I wasn't thrilled to hear that and while I stood there sorting that out in my head, Gede is rubbing up on me with his hips doing what they do. For me, it was a moment of 'well, I guess I'm going to stand here and take it' because what the hell else was I going to do?

It took me about a month or so to really realize what he had done. He had worked some magic in that moment for me, and realigned the road to a new option. After the fet, I went back to the endless job search and found a temporary job listed with the agency that I had worked for prior to leaving for what I thought was going to be my last career stop. I applied for it and worried that I wasn't going to get a call back because they of course would have found a reason to hate me in the six months that I had been gone...but got a call back for an interview in less than 24 hours, had the interview scheduled within a day, and got a job offer at the end of the interview, two day before my unemployment benefits were up. That job improved upon the salary that had lost, brought me into something permanent, and has allowed me to become a subject matter expert on something that almost no one else does. It was the hail mary of all hail mary passes, and it hit.

I am not stupid, so once I signed the offer I threw myself in front of my table and thanked my lwa for helping me get this position and that when that first paycheck hit they would be getting some of what they had been waiting on. I am kind of dense sometimes, though, and presented my thanks in the way I often do when I have been up against it and get nervous and therefore sort of shriek my prayers at all of my spirits: I thanked all of them for their assistance and always taking care of me.

It was almost comical the way I felt the stare of the Dead Man, boney hands on hips, waiting for me to figure it out. I had that lightbulb moment and began thanking my Gede by name for their assistance in saving my ass. I got all the way to naming my husband's Gede, who I am quite close to, before I heard the dry voice in the back of my head say 'it was ME'. Gede was quite specific; it was the Gede that had rubbed all over me at the fet, the Gede of the lineage I was initiated in, who had gotten me this job and that gouyad where I stood there awkwardly probably looking unhappy as how he did his work.

As it has been almost a year since that happened, it's been on my mind and it's had me thinking about Gede and transformation. I've really been sitting with Gede in that place of him being the witness to who I am, who I am becoming, and what is becoming of me, and I keep thinking about the ways in which Gede knows transformation. He is the ultimate symbol of transformation in that he was born, lived, died, and then lived again when Bawon Samdi lifted him, and death has been the mechanism that has brought him to himself and ultimately to us...had Gede not died, he would not exist for us now.

My brain took a left turn with all of this and I started thinking about how death literally brings life. Like, our bodies decay because bacteria thrives on our flesh and transforms it into rot which in turn spawns a new cycle of life with bacteria, mold, etc. Gross, right?

And yet.

I've been sitting in a spot for awhile where I have felt that I am awaiting a process of transformation. It's disturbed my stillness. I'm not really sure what it is yet (I do know some of the things it's not), but I know it's kind of pulsing there in the background. I am waiting on it and it is waiting on me. My waiting is in the charnel ground, the place where the bodies of the dead lay to rot and become something different. I keep coming back to that imagery, of laying down among the dead so I can be something different when I get back up. There's kanzo imagery there, as the djevo is it's own kind of charnel ground, except without the gross dead bodies; we go to lay down and die and then get up as something new and transformed.

Me being me, I asked Gede if this was the message that I'm about to transform myself out of this body, and if a skull had eyes to roll... One of my favorite parts of my relationship with Gede is that he is will absolutely tell me when he thinks I am being dumb or am being a pain in the ass. I was being dumb.

He's my witness at the charnel ground, too. The field is the domain of a Bawon, but Gede walks where he will amongst what he once was, and he watches and waits while I become.

#real vodou #gede #fet gede #guede #ghede #gouyad #haitian vodou

[noodleblade]

lowkey manifesting more sg simpatico (you dont have to if you dont want to!)

oh anon, you don't know how deranged I am about this dumb dumb au. Thank you for the indulgence:3 AO3 Link

Again, disclaimer- haven't read shattered glass but these two aren't even really in it so who cares:) Enjoy!

--

The notification rang across his HUD; a flashing, red alarm screaming across his processor. 

INTRUDER . 

The word was quarrelsome, the implication behind it more so. Someone had entered his lab, unauthorized. Agitation curled at the base of his neck, a quiet curiosity igniting in his chest. 

There were a few possibilities of who would be so thoroughly glitched in the processor to break into his laboratory and there was an idle worry that it could be Decepticon infiltrators. However, none of his intensive security measures had actually been triggered. The only notification received was that the doors had been opened with an old password that had been changed years ago; old information that Perceptor rigged to ping himself personally if used; old information only a servoful of mechs knew, almost all now offlined. 

It was after hours, the dead of the recharge cycle. The facility ran on a skeleton night crew while most mechs were deep in recharge. It was an odd coincidence Perceptor was still awake, one he dared not to read into. Awful, terrible hope fluttered in his spark as his processor brought images of bright yellow plating and calculating red optics.

It was a quick walk to his labs. A quiet one too, eerily so. Naturally, Perceptor thought of the worst, but in truth, most mechs stayed clear of his labs, lest he be in need of assistance and low on bodies. The isolation was desired nevertheless and certainly now as he arrived at the doors in a matter of a few kliks without running into a single person.

Any lingering thought of Decepticon forces breaking into his lab were cast aside as he stared at the key entry. Energon dripped from the housing, leaving a smudge of digits that had fumbled with the password. Worry quickly crushed any fleeting hope as Perceptor entered his lab, the energon on his digits too fresh, too warm.

His optics immediately landed on the mech curled up against the wall of his lab. Brainstorm was already difficult to miss, plating too bright and mind too wicked, but in the sterile, stillness of the lab, the jet’s trembling plating and blinding optics were impossible to miss.

“Took you long enough, Percy,” Brainstorm greeted. His words were soft and slurred, muffled against his own shoulder as his helm seemed unable to sit up right. “I’ve been waiting for ever . I think your security protocols need fine tuning unless you like midnight visitors.”

Perceptor did not run but he quickly marched to Brainstorm’s crumbled form and fell to his knees. His joints protested the harsh treatment but he paid them no mind as he reached for the mech before him. Too gentle then he had any right to be, Perceptor cupped Brainstorm’s helm, lifting it slightly to meet his gaze. His optics were blurred and foggy, unfocused. There was a faint recognition that glimmered in them as they met Perceptor’s. Brainstorm’s field weakly curled around them in a clingy, fondness as he nuzzled into Perceptor’s servo, engine vibrating in a mock of a purr. It did little to quell the nervous rage boiling beneath Perceptor’s plating. 

“Who’s energon is this?” Perceptor asked, words spoken through clenched denta.  “Yours or-?”

“Not mine,” Brainstorm hummed, words a little breathy as he spoke into Perceptor’s palm. The blast mask blocked any true contact yet Perceptor could still feel the ghost of each word through the vented air. “You should see the other guy. Actually…” 

Perceptor jumped as Brainstorm shook his wrist. The ever-present briefcase rattled against the stark white floors and left a stream of energon in its wake. Without removing his servo from holding Brainstorm’s helm, Perceptor unclasped the briefcase. 

“You are going to love me so much,” Brainstorm cooed, static hissing his words. “I won’t even need to ask for a kiss this time.”

His digits grazed glass, energon slick and sticky. His optics darted down to see the edges of a spark casing, the housing broken and leaking energon but thankfully not Brainstorm’s own. 

“Where…who?”

“You need a mitotic spark for your testing. I read your thesis. Brilliant as always. So, so brilliant.” Brainstorm was speaking directly into his servo but his hazy optics never broke contact with Perceptor’s. “You’re so perfect, Percy.”

Perceptor could only stare at the deranged mech. With no signs of actual injuries, his symptoms pointed more to very low fuel levels. He couldn’t be sure but Brainstorm didn’t seem to be in any actual pain. Just a little weak and punch drunk. Still, there was something beyond touching to have the mad jet working himself to such a state to please him, processor solely focused on Perceptor and Perceptor alone. It was a devotion that felt unearned but one he didn’t want to cast away. 

“Thank you, Brainstorm,” Perceptor murmured, abandoning the retrieved spark casing to fully cradle the other mech helm. “Good job.”

“Yeah?” Brainstorm asked, breathless and field awash with too much hope and yearning. 

“Yes.” Perceptor used his thumbs to rub comforting circles around his cheeks. “And now you need some rest.”

Brainstorm let out a petulant groan, pressing more into Perceptor’s servos. “Can’t we stay like this a bit longer? I never get to see you. You’ve been avoiding me.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue. Perceptor had been allowing distance to broach their relationship . Being too fond, too soft didn’t allow one to last long term in the Autobot ranks. It left a mech too exposed, too vulnerable. Brainstorm made Perceptor feel this way, as if every thought, every feeling the mech before him could pull out with an ease he shouldn’t have. 

It was why he had blocked Brainstorm’s persistent comms, why he remained locked in his lab and his work. A forced isolation, not that anyone had really noticed. If anything, that was his normal. His clandestine meetings with Brainstorm would be more cause for concern and while they had yet to be noticed, Perceptor didn’t know how long those would truly be kept a secret. 

Evidently, his avoidance had turned to negligence. A misstep on his part. He may like his test subjects lifeless and cold, but the very notion of Brainstorm’s twisted mind going quiet was sickening. Perhaps this was softness that demanded Perceptor retract his avoidance measures, perhaps it was inexplicable fondness that made him disregard any further actions of separation. 

A smile threatened to broach his faceplates as possessiveness and adoration bloomed in his spark. Perceptor found he almost didn’t mind. “I was thinking we could go back to my habsuite. Together.”

Brainstorm snapped his helm up, optics wide and glassy. “Really?” he whispered in total awe. “Like, really, really?”

Perceptor hummed. “I’m not one to mince words. Now, come on.” 

Without waiting, Perceptor wrangled Brainstorm into his arms, mindful of his wings as they pressed flat against his back. A small squeak came from the jet’s intake but once stable in Perceptor’s arms, his engine purred happily.

The walk to his hab was a quiet one, his steps echoing in the darkness. Perceptor was grateful once more for the isolation. A reunion such as this should be done alone.

“Are you going to unblock my commlink?” Brainstorm’s voice was soft and sleepy, the words slurring together. The exvents were almost ticklish against his neck cables.

“No,” Perceptor whispered. He ducked his helm to speak quietly into his audials. “That would defeat the fun for you. I expect you’ll figure out a way back into my comms soon enough.”

“Mmmm, I do love a challenge, Percy.” Brainstorm’s optics were dim, his engine humming quietly as he teetered on the precipice of recharge. Black servos curled against the acrylic plate on Perceptor’s chassis. “I love you.”

“I know.” Perceptor swallowed the words that were trying to push up his intake, words he felt less and less resistant to say back. 

#simpatico #brainstorm #perceptor #maccadam #shattered glass #mtmte #sg simpatico au #my fics #anonymous #asks #transformers

[crimeronan]

Is Luz openly human in the princess AU? Like does Gus have to deal with having a massive interest in the human realm while it also being public knowledge the next person in line for the throne is human?

scream omg. i honestly haven't given enough thought to what exactly willow and gus are up to (or eda and king, for that matter) - there are a bunch of plot holes and fudgy timeline things happening all over the place, so i don't wanna say definitively what gus is doing when i'll almost certainly contradict it later

THAT SAID. one of the things i've had to consider is how luz is presented to the rest of the world. if she's stealth human like belos, if she's masked like hunter, etc. and the conclusion i came to was that belos wouldn't hide (and would in fact ~*~celebrate~*~) luz's humanity. because he's now in a position of power where he can get away with saying "the titan brought her here to save you all from your wicked ways :)" and Not get the shit beat out of him for it.

luz didn't know that belos is human until she was sixteen though, he told her alongside all the Other Bad Shit. so she grew up feeling like kind of an odd duck. with a whole royal chosen one prophecy attached. no pressure!

i am INTENSELY fond of the mental image of gus just vibrating at all times about the human princess, though, i think that is So Funny. parasocial relationships are nothing new for luz but i think most people she meets are more interested in her royal status than her human one. (or at least interested in both equally.) so if she Did meet gus, she'd be kinda bemused and fascinated that Anyone thinks her humanness is special. bc she mostly views it as a vexing disability.

#replies #toh #princess luz au #havent decided on the mask yet. i think she might wear one in formal events and if she has to like. hold court for some reason #but her face isn't really a Secret yknow. if it's not official business she's not dressed up in a mask #she doesn't have the patience for how sweaty her face gets.

[sunofmoon]

hi moon of my life! this is a nickname khal drogo gave to daenerys in game of thrones. i don't like that relationship very much, but i like the nickname. so i decided to find a new use for it.

well, i'm sending you this ask because i feel like i don't appreciate you enough. i never sent you an ask and so i thought, "how rude of me". you were always sweet to me.

i love all my friends here. in fact, all of you who interact with me are few, but enough. you all are different and i love you all in different ways but none more than another. all my relationships here are different, but it doesn't mean is any lesser. there is no way to measure love, in my opinion. we just... love people. and i am a person that is very good at loving.

i swear, i'm extremely good at loving.

i wanted to thank you for being so patient with me when i'm silly, for giving me strength when i'm down, for helping me with my fics, for the random chats, for making me feel loved back. i wanted you to know that your presence here makes me very happy. since you arrived i feel that there is something different.

and yes, i know i'm a whore for affection and a bit needy and clingy, and i know it's hard for you to express yourself or talk about what you feel. so i'm so grateful for your effort in doing it for me. i swear, i wanted to give you a thousand hugs and kisses, but i can't. so i can only send you an ask to let you know how much i care. i certainly care a lot!

ily ♡

hi sun of my moon! or should i say sun of my life? before i go on, i have to thank you for the affection and for coming here. i really wasn't expecting this, so it was a pleasant surprise to come home, open tumblr and find this ask.

honestly, i believe you have earned the right to call me whatever you want, but i love the nickname. the fact that we can give it a new meaning, for something better, makes me happy.

i must say that i may not have words enough to repay you for everything i have read here, so i ask you not to be sad with me. it is not for lack of consideration but because, all of this was too amazing for my poor brain to process.

you may have heard this before, but i have to say it one more time. you are wonderful, nikka. your soul is special. your energy vibrates in a good tune. you are the sun shining on everyone around you. so, i ask you, how could such an amazing person not love so much? you need it like you need air, i understand. but i think that we, your friends, need your love at the same intensity and that's ok. i think we have found a balance point, no?

oh, and i thank god that you are so good at loving.

i can have the patience of a thousand lives, if that will calm you down. i can reach out my hands, offer you my shoulders and ears when you are sad. and, haha! i will never get tired of instigating or encouraging you. supporting your works and stories is my favorite hobby right now. whenever you need me, i will be here.

maybe you have broken my rules, and trying hard is no longer a challenge but a mission that I try hard to fulfill. whenever you need a little affection, I will try my best to make sure you get it. so, receive my virtual kisses and hugs.

and, again, thank you for caring about me. it was important to know that. know that the feeling is reciprocal.

ily <3

#krocodilf #te amo 🩶 #pardon for possible english mistakes? #my asks <3

[aethramusings]

a PRIVATE thread with @teapottroubles , continued from HERE ! !

" a sword ? ! " sox couldn't entirely tell if he intended to sound terrified or impressed . either way , it didn't matter much . these people were clearly good and kind hearted , and certainly had no intention of hurting one another ! " i can see why you tripped . maybe a better storage system would help ? "

the feline positioned himself by the womans foot , examining it from a safe distance as she flexed the strained muscle . " hmm . . i see you're right , it's just a sprain . are you feeling any emotional distress ? i am more than happy to help ! some humans find ' purring ' helpful in alleviating discomfort . "

and without a second word , the tabby leapt gracefully onto the womans lap , vibrating at a gentle speed . full body vibrations . and holding intense eye contact . he is so good at being cat .

#⸻ 🐈 tagged ; | INTERACTIONS ⠀⠀ ✶ #⸻ 🐁 sox ; | LIGHTYEAR ⠀⠀ ✶ #teapottroubles; uhura #injury tw