Tumgik
#had to compress these a good bit
scoobydoodean · 11 months
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"Dean has no time for fruitless quests to find God. He's got people to protect" | 1.03 "Dead In The Water
Quote is tags from @ilarual ♥️
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the bright, blessed day // the dark, sacred night
yt link✨
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joltrify · 3 months
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id sell my left soul and my lung for more disabled Ben 10 aliens please omg
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<3
hope i did okay this time around; still getting back into the swing of things
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miodiodavinci · 1 year
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i need to be asleep but i'm looking at the tax return money i have stashed away and wondering just how much of a quality upgrade i should make in terms of mixing headphones
#the brand i've been using has served me fairly well#but i don't know if they're still in production because the last ones i've ordered came worn/damaged and had to be returned#and my current pair is Quite Literally hanging on by a thread#(read: it is taped together with electrical tape and a large tongue depressor to replace the broken hinge)#(and has a small bead jammed into the cup joint to prevent it from swinging outwards)#(and i have to put a folded sock on my head to counteract the compressed headband foam)#so i've been thinking i ought to upgrade just a bit from the $20 range to perhaps the $50 range#but i'm staring at the company i'm thinking about ordering from and wondering if i should just#go ahead and spend a little more to get a slightly more sensitive and collapsible studio-level pair#but spending more is scary ! ! ! !#what if they're bad ! ! !#what if they sound terrible and feel bad and get lost in the mail when i try to return them ! ! !#or what if they sound so so good all my mixing things will sound terrible no matter what ! ! !#or well i'm not sure how to describe that last fear but i think it basically amounts to#what if it makes vocal synth voices sound bad somehow#ughhgh i know it'll be better for me in the long run to invest now while i have the option#because no doubt the more expensive pair will last longer and give me better quality results#(evidence: an astounding number of people reporting they've used theirs for 5-10 years with no sound decay)#as opposed to my current ones which i've had to replace every 3 years#$70 for potentially 10 years of good audio . . . .#which is roughly what i'd be paying with the cheap pair but with only mid-tier audio#h m m m m m#i'll sleep on it i guess . . . .
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mejomonster · 2 years
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In happy health news I did significantly reduce POTS symptoms this past year
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guinevereslancelot · 1 month
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i'm literally so dumb
#i ignored my leg pain while i still had insurance and then it got really bad and i kept ignoring it??#like yeah i can totes treat this at home#even tho i didn't know what was causing it#anyway i figured out its nerve pain im pretty sure#the femoral cutaneous nerve#ginseng is helping a bit for rn which i lucked into when i thought it was muscle pain and i was looking for over the counter muscle relaxan#apparently it helps with nerve pain tho#its the only thing making it bearable#anyway#this is nowhere near as scary as my eye problems so its a good time to figure it out ig#and the eye treatment isn't as expensive as a feared at least short term#so hopefully i can deal with whatever is causing this#i never had an injury but apparently endo can cause it possibly or something else compressing the nerve#i think a pinched nerve could do it but im p sure that would have cleared up in the past four years lol#actually now that i think abt it i did throw out my back rlly bad several years ago? so maybe there was an injury idk#i never thought abt back injury as the source of leg pain but apparently it is#hopefully a chiropractor can fix me 👍#and t#THEN i can finally chill#but tbh im not worried abt this bc im still relieved abt the other thing#the pain is wicked bad sometimes but i can still walk lol#and now that i figured out its serious i can get it dealt with#i suppose the pain level should have clued me in but i genuinely thought i was doing it to myself from stress#like hypertension or something lol
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1
[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]
As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.
The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”
It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.
Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.
It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.
They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.
He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.
After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.
And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.
Well, usually, it’d be trash.
Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.
“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”
Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.
Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.
Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.
“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.
“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”
Danny waved vaguely.
“…What are you?”
“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.
“…”
Neither, apparently, was the answer.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”
“…I see.”
“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”
With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.
Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.
“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”
Batman nodded once, sharply.
“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.
——
Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.
And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.
When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.
“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”
“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.
“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”
Batman sighed. “What are you?”
Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.
“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”
Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.
“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”
——
Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf
Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)
Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)
Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)
——
Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*
——
Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:
Sea spirits
Sea vampires
How to parent supernatural kids
How to thank your sea child
Are shells a good gift?
Ocean conservation efforts
Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight
Sea spirits that cleans up beaches
Wayne corporation waste disposal
Companies that dump trash into the sea
*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*
What is “mean girls”
——
Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:
Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
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Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.
I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.
Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.
Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.
The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.
Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.
I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.
So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.
If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.
Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.
Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.
And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.
And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.
I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.
Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.
Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.
I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized t shirt
Request from here
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Eyes blinking as light filtered through his closed lids, Simon began to stir as the first bit of the days brightness filled the small bedroom of his tiny apartment. Slowly those thick, long limbs of his stretched their compressed muscles back to life as the blood flowed through them.
Turning over, he was surprised that there wasn't another body laying next to him under the covers; your bright eyes and warm smile were what he had planned to gaze upon, but there was no one. That put him a little on edge, this being the first time you'd stayed over at his shitty little apartment, but he tried to keep calm until he was fully awake.
Simon moved up onto his elbow as he lay on his side, his large hand rubbing the rest of the sleep that lingered from out of his eyes. He looked about, trying to find any signs of you: your discarded clothes from the night before lay in a pile on the floor right next to your shoes, your earrings still sat on the bedside table, and as he checked the mattress with his hand he found that it was still warm. It was obvious you were still around, he just had to go and find you.
A full yawn passed his lips before he heard the sound of clinks and taps, bangs and rustling coming from towards the kitchen area. So that's where you'd sulked off to, making breakfast no doubt.
God you were too fucking much, he wasn't used to all this sweetness, but he wouldn't change it for anything.
Carefully and quietly he moved out of the bed, scratching at the sparse covering of hair on his bare chest before he stood and straightened his sweatpants around his hips. He was hoping he could surprise you by showing up to catch you in the act.
With easy steps, Simon walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and what he saw standing there amidst pots and pans, a stack of toast and a pile of bacon to your right, it took his goddamn breath away.
The expectation was to find you naked, since the only clothes you had were still on his bedroom floor, but that wasn't what he found at all. Your hair had been pulled up, a few stray hairs poking out around your hairline that hadn't been secured and it looked like the only thing you had on was one of his old baggy t shirts.
As you moved, Simon could just see a peak of the underside of your ass pop through the bottom of the shirt, playing peakaboo with him the longer he looked. The lines of your legs, looked even longer as the shirt sat just below your hips. Those juicy limbs looked good enough to eat, bare and glaring back at him.
Fuck, you had never been more beautiful to him; it nearly made his goddamn heart stop beating. Being a big man had its perks and this was one of the best ones he found, that you were able to wear his clothes.
In that moment as he watched you happily go about your work, looking like a comfy dream, images of you doing this full time flooded Simon's mind and his stomach flipped excitedly at the thought. If there was anyone that could make that rough and brazen military man soft, it was you.
And maybe it was about time he let someone do it...
There was a sudden warmness against your back as two bulky arms wrapped themselves around your from behind, making you jump a little at the surprise. " 'mornin, luv," Simon's husky voice hit your ears before his kiss touched your cheek. "See you've made yourself at home."
You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth he still had from being wrapped up tight in the covers moments before. "I just...I wanted to do something nice for you, make us breakfast," you said, giving the eggs in the pan currently in your grasp a flip.
"Pretty sure you do more than enough for a bastard like me," he chuckled as one of those thick mitts moved down and cupped lightly over your sex. "This is all I need to stay well fuckin' fed."
Immediately the heat rose in your cheeks, flushing your face bright red.
"But I meant my shirt," he continued, secretly smiling from ear to ear at how quickly he had you blushing. Certain, heavy movements from his hands flitted across your torso as he rubbed over the lines of your curves through the familiar fabric of his clothing.
"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized, thinking you had possibly overstepped, "I hope you don't mind, I just needed something and it was just there in the top drawer and..."
Another kiss on your cheek shut you right up. "Look fuckin' good like this, luv," he purred in your ear, his low, gravely morning voice making you shiver.
"Really?" you asked, glad that he wasn't mad you'd commendeered his clothes; in reality you knew it would be nothing, but this being the first time you'd done this, you still had some giddy nervousness about everything.
"Ya look like a fuckin' picture to me," he reiterated, those full lips moving down to your next now as he leaned more against you. "I thought I looked good in this thing, but it ain't nothin' compared to a fuckin' vixen like you."
You giggled playfully at all the sweet praise. Nearly missing the eggs being done, you turned off the stove and set the aside until you both were ready to eat. "Please, I look like hell."
"Bullshit," he said as he turned you around, picked up you, and placed your butt on top of the nearest countertop. He slid in between your open legs, letting his hands run down your side from where he had lifted you, sliding tenderly over the shirt. He was right, you were naked save for the shirt and that did something to his still sleepy brain.
Greedily he tilted his head and leaned up into you, embracing your mouth fully with all of his and making your lips dance together. Feverish and sloppy Simon connected with your lips again and again, making your still sleepy brain flatline.
If you could wake up every day like this it would be a fucking living dream.
His kisses would not let up as he pulled you in closer, his hands running over the curves of your back as he stole your lips with a lazy intensity.
"Breakfast is gonna get cold," you groaned with eyes closed, mouthing the words against his parted lips.
His hips bucked into your own. "Nah, my breakfast feels mighty fuckin' warm to me, luv," he said as he kept right at it.
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xanaxspritz · 2 months
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𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙨 ♡
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚𝙖𝙠𝙖 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙'𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
cw: bf!megumi, college AU, cheating, breeding, possible impregnation, cowgirl
an: I put cw here for a reason, so if this work makes you uncomfortable in any sort of way or if you're a minor, please do not interact. this is a work of fiction and what i write here does not reflect my own values or experiences.
ʚ♡ɞ˚
megumi was a sweet boyfriend. he sent good morning texts daily, was always ready to drop everything if you were in need across campus, and even warmed up to pda because you liked it so much. you couldn't ask for anything better.
but his father was a different story. undeniably a dilf, you couldnt help but to stare at the way his arms bulged out of his compression shirt he always wore, hugging his torso just right to show off his abs. you couldnt but to take a peak at his lap when lounged in grey sweats, watching TV with his legs spread wide open, as if he was daring you to take a seat on top.
it didn't help that he would stare at you, every time you visited megumi at home. the heat of his eyes lingering a bit too long on you heated up something dark within you.
the tension between you and toji kept rising and rising, until one day you went to the fushiguro residence to retrieve something you left. you find toji in the kitchen, eating his lunch, his lips curling up into a smirk when he sees you.
"megumi ain't here you know" he says food still in his mouth.
"i know. just forgot something," you say nervously.
"was it this?" he takes out neon pink panties from his pocket. you are mortified.
"oh my god. im so sorry mr. fushiguro. i promise i'll never-"
"always knew you're a little slut. i can always tell with little girls like you"
"what? what do you mean?" you feel your face grow hotter.
"don't pretend like you aren't, " he chuckled. "always teasing me with those super short skirts barely covering your ass. i can even see your pushup bra through your shirt." you cross your arms instinctively. "i didn't think megumi had it in him," he continued. "but it seems like you've got him wrapped around your finger."
you were speechless. was mr. fushiguro actually hitting on you?
"tell me doll, is he good enough for you? is he fucking you right?"
by this point toji rose up from his chair, inching closer to you until youre back up on the kitchen counter. you can something on the side of your thigh.
"y-yes mr. fushiguro, he's a great boyfriend. i-i couldn't ask for any better," the wetness you can feel in your panties betrays your words.
"hm, is that so?" his hands wandering behind you to squeeze your plump ass. he snaps your panty band before feeling up between your legs.
"already wet f'me you dirty slut," leaning down closely to your, lips centimeters apart. "how naughty."
you crash your lips into his desperately, weeks of sexual tension building up to a make out session. his lips are surprisingly soft, and his breath is a comforting smell of tobacco. "call me toji," he nuzzles into your neck.
one thing turns into another and you found yourself in the master bedroom, bouncing on top of toji's huge cock.
"that good baby, keep riding me just like that," he whispers slapping and grabbing your ass. "i bet he doesn't fuck you like i do, ain't that right?"
"n-no mr. fushiguro!"
"i thought I told you to call me toji," he narrowed his eyes, picking up the pace faster.
your moans get louder as his thick, fat cock pounded you. his heavy balls slapped against your ass, you close your eyes in pure bliss, your tits bouncing in his face.
"i wonder what would happened if i filled you up with this daddy dick. think megumi would notice you pregnant with my baby, hm?"
the thought of toji cumming in you was exhilarating, you quickly nod your head yes, holding him tighter as he digs his fingers into your hips.
he laughs at your eagerness. "figured a little whore like you would love it. fuck- are you ready?"
you feel his warm cum filling you up as toji grunts. his load is thick and creamy, the excess dripping down your thighs.
he quickly replaces his cock with his fingers, plugging the cum inside you, keeping you nice and full.
"you're a good fuck," he sighs. "no wonder megumi keeps you around."
right, megumi. how would you even begin explaining to this to him? should you even tell him? the overwhelming guilt consumes your thoughts.
toji notices the visible worry you're sporting on your face. "hey doll, don't worry. I'm not gonna tell him," he reassures. "as long as you don't either. just keep coming back when he's not home so I can cum inside that pretty pussy again."
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moon-rivr · 5 months
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reader being obsessed with Miguel's biceps but never admitting and thinking he'd never find out. Miguel decided to tease reader about it when he found out 🤭
obsession
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: bicep obsession, masturbation (f), headlock, and doggy (?)
a/n: sorry it’s a bit of a short one 🧍🏻 i hope you enjoy it though :)
word count: 1063
"Hey, you wanna join me at the gym?"
At the time, it had seemed like a good idea to agree to go with him but now you were squeezing your thighs together as you looked at him working on his biceps. To be fair, you really did try not to look too hard at him and even went on your phone to try to distract yourself, but eventually you were overtaken by temptation. Your eyes kept drifting over to his arms as he curled the weight, his muscles practically straining out of the stupid compression shirt he'd chosen to wear.
You'd zoned off while watching Miguel, fingers snapping in front of your face before you were brought back to the moment. "Are you okay?" He asked, rubbing a towel across his forehead as he wiped away the sweat. "Mhm," you responded, your eyes drifting over to his arms flexing while he brought the towel up. He shrugged, not wanting to push the subject too far and the two of you left to go back home.
Miguel got in the shower as soon as the two of you got back and you took the opportunity to catch up on your reading while you waited. You looked up when you heard the door open, blissfully unaware of how much time had passed by and looked over to see Miguel coming out with a towel wrapped around his waist. He stood in front of the bed with his back turned to you as he grabbed his clothes from the dresser, water droplets trailing down his arms.
He laid down on his stomach as he looked up at you, his head resting on his hands. "What's that book about?" He inquired, glancing over at the cover of the book. “A mix of romance and fantasy, really. I just started reading it, so I can't really say that much about the plot," you responded with a small shrug, shutting your book to hand it to him so he'd be able to read the synopsis. As he read the book synopsis, you let yourself admire his arms as they flexed with every movement that they made.
He handed the book to you, starting to give you some recommendations for books. You really tried to listen to him but you couldn't help but get distracted the longer you looked at him. "Yeah, that sounds good," you murmured after he finished speaking, looking back up at his face to see his brows scrunched up. "You seem distracted. Are you sure you're doing okay?" He asked you, his head now resting on your leg.
"I'm okay, Miguel. There's nothing going on."
"You're sure you're okay? You know that you're free to tell me anything, right?"
"I've told you that I'm okay. I promise."
Miguel left the subject alone, leaving you feeling like you were walking on eggshells after. He'd started taking longer hours at work and you were spending more time alone. You were currently home alone late at night, laying down on your bed as you scrolled through your phone. You looked through Miguel’s page, seeing that he'd released a workout video for this week. He tended to make those after he'd gotten some requests for his workout routine, posting them weekly. You dragged your fingers down to your panties, gently rubbing yourself through the fabric.
Unbeknownst to you, Miguel was listening to your little sounds as you buried your fingers in your cunt. He watched you through the house camera system he'd set up and took a look at your screen, realizing why'd you been so distant. His cock strained underneath his holographic suit, precum starting to leak onto his leg while he heard your light moans coming through the earpiece he had on. He was about to deactivate his suit when one of the spider variants came in, his mood instantly souring for the rest of the night.
You were still awake when Miguel came in through the door, his arms wrapping behind your waist while you were in the kitchen. "How was work, Miguelito?" You asked, looking back at him as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. "I've had a long day at work today, but it was okay," he mumbled, his words coming out a bit incoherent. "You need a de-stressor?" you asked him, turning to look back at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
Miguel took the initiative, leading you to the bedroom and took your clothes off quickly. You got on your hands and knees, your back arching as your stomach was pressed against the bed. He pushed a finger in, stretching you out before he pushed his cock inside you. You felt the stretch from Miguel’s cock as he thrusted inside you, your walls clamping around him. He waited for you to adjust, his hands coming down to your hips as he pulled his cock out, establishing a slow pace to help you ease to it.
Miguel pulled you up after a while, your back hitting his chest while he sped up the pace. Your eyes widen as Miguel brings his bicep towards your neck, trapping your head between his arm while his cock thrusted into you. You turned to look back at him, surprised by the way that he held you and he let out a small chuckle as his eyes met yours. "Don't look at me like that, I've seen how you look at my arms," he told you, his cock thrusting deeper inside of you. "Don't worry, mama. I found it kind of endearing. Especially the way you came just looking at them."
You were gonna try to deny the accusations but you couldn't deny the arousal leaking out of you as it dripped down your thighs every time he pulled his cock out. "Love your arms Mig," you babbled as he thrust into you once more, the hold he had on your head tightening the slightest bit. "Do you really? I don't think you've shown me just how much you've been thinking about this," he responded, a teasing grin on his face while your eyes rolled back. His hips snapped against yours, his other arm coming down your stomach, feeling a bulge forming on your lower tummy.
"Don't worry, we have plenty of time just to find out how deep this adoration goes."
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doctorbeth · 1 year
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Mimming from Singapore
A couple months ago I received an email from Mimming's person in Singapore. Mimming is an almost 40 year old teddy bear, and she's been very well loved... and hugged.
This is what Mimming looked like when she was young:
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And this is what she looked like at the start of 2023:
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As you can see, she lost a lot of weight and fur from hugs over the years. Her eyes have cataracts (you'll see those better later), her nose is dangling due to muzzle shrinkage, and she has some pretty significant wounds she usually keeps under her shirt. But she's still a very cuddly bear with an endearing expression.
Her person was hoping to get Mimming recovered in new fur, so she could be hugged and have adventures for at least 40 more years. A new nose and new eyes were under consideration, and we agreed starting with a spa (especially since her stuffing was so compressed, was probably in order. So... Mimming found a flight with her buddy Little Mimming to keep her company (you'll see her later) and headed across the Pacific to CA. While Mimming is well travelled, this was a first solo Pacific flight, and so it was bit scary, hence the company. It actually took less than a week for her to arrive!
She started with her bubble bath, that way new fur would match her cleaned fur color.
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You can see her cataracts, particularly in her right eye, and how loose and chipped her nose is here.
Next was deciding if she would get a new nose and eyes, or keep her originals. Turns out, there were many nose options. Smooth like nose, flocked/velvety, size differences:
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Her person opted for a new, velvety, triangular nose. For her eyes, there was really only one option, new or not. I can usually get pretty good color matches, but Mimming's eyes had also faded, so new eyes would be a touch brighter. Once eyes or a nose come out, they can't go back in, and with recovering it's best to remove them before recovering, so this was a decision that needed to be made before fur choice. Here's the eye option next to her original eye:
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Mimming's person opted for two new eyes. We agreed to preserve her old eyes and nose in her heart with a bit of her stuffing. But first, she needed new fur. Here were some of the white fur options:
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Mimming's person went with the thick white faux fur, and surgery proceeded. For her brown patch, I had furs to match all of the white fur options, so we were all set there.
Here's her heart being made and installed:
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And here are the first photos of Mimming in all new fur. She still has open seams, so her chubbiness can be adjusted:
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While she sits naturally like in her baby photos, she can also lay flat like she could when she arrived. Chubbiness approved, Mimming got dressed and went outside for a photo shoot. She was well traveled, but had never been to California, and she wanted some photos as souvenirs. Little Mimming joined her for the photo shoot (those were the first tulips of the season):
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And those adorable knitted overalls? Those are Mimming's regular travel clothes that she arrived in. Good thing that knit stretches. I particularly liked the little teddy bear buttons to hold the straps.
Mimming and Little Mimming flew home and again, it was a fast trip, just 5 days! Here they are safe and sound, albeit a little jet lagged, with their friends:
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Her person wrote:
Thank you so much!! She looks amazing! We are so happy we got to spend the rest of our lifetime with her - another 40+ years!! Thank you Doctor Beth for taking great care of her. You’re such a blessing to all of us! Praying for your good health and good life. Stay happy and blessed!
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sttoru · 4 months
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imagine older bf!gojo fucking us in doggy style in while we're wearing his hoodie😫😫
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. smut. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s), size difference / size kink, doggy style, spanking, implied creampies, reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart’.
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satoru’s attempts to hide his obvious desire for you were rendered unsuccessful; no matter how much he tries to keep his hands to himself — it never works. this time was no different.
you were simply sitting on the couch with his hoodie on and the older man couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his crotch. you looked extremely adorable in satoru’s hoodie, as it was oversized on your much shorter and smaller body.
“fuck— ‘m sorry, baby,” your boyfriend apologises between shallow breaths. he’s got you face down with your ass up on the bed; his hands using your hips as leverage for his intense thrusts. there was no mercy in the pace he set—he was too far gone, “you just. . look so fuckin’ good in my hoodie - couldn’t resist.”
the inability to resist going any harder on you also shows in his constant, harsh movements. the sticky sounds your cunt made due to your own wetness - and the few loads that satoru had dumped into you in the span of half an hour - echo throughout your shared space.
satoru’s fingers slither up your back, diving under the material of your (his) hoodie before moving up your front to fondle your breasts. all while his throbbing cock molds your insides to accommodate its hefty size.
“you should try on my clothes more often,” your boyfriend suggests whilst he leans his upper body down, his chest flush against your back as his hot breath tickles your ear, “i wanna try fucking you in all of ‘em.”
you moan and shiver at the thought which forms a sly grin on satoru’s face. he sighs before leaning back again, putting his hips in a better angle so he could hit all of your sweet spots—trying desperately to hear all the moans you could produce. of course, he can’t help but add a couple spanks to your ass.
the sight of the fat jiggling which each slam of his hips and slap of his hand nearly drives him to the edge again. satoru slips his wet dick out of your pussy for a second, pumping the length and using the tip to scoop up the droplets of his cum that escaped back inside you. he resumes his harsh thrusts, his ocean blue eyes taking in every jolt your body makes.
“mm shit, you’d look so good in that black shirt of mine,” satoru groans. he could already imagine how the compression shirt would define your tits and waist—how your nipples would poke through the thin material.
you tremble and babble incomprehensible words after lifting your head from the pillow. your lungs long for air and your hands claw at the bedsheets. your lover could easily decipher your actions: you’re about to reach another orgasm.
“aht aht, sweetheart. jus’ a little more, ‘kay?” satoru pouts, kissing the back of your head in a gesture of comfort. he pats your ass with a smile after you agree to hold back for a bit longer, “good girl.”
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lxvvie · 6 months
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Simon wearing the black compression shirt and grey sweatpants combo >>>>
Now imagine he’s sitting on the couch and you slip the waistband of his sweatpants just down enough that you can access his dick. Maybe slide his shirt up a bit too so you can see his v-line perfectly.
"Buy a man a drink first, yeah?"
Simon knows what he's doing. Hell, he knows that you know what he's doing. It doesn't help that he can't be bothered to wear boxers and so you've been treated to the wonderful view of the outline of his dick.
You scoff at his joke, too focused on the task at hand to muster up a witty comeback of your own. Having had enough of him playing games for most of the day, you took matters into your own hands.
And damn if it wasn't sexy the way he reacted every time you touched his bare skin. You found out pretty early into you two's sex life that he was... sensitive in certain areas, namely his thighs and hips, and every opportunity was spent raking your nails or running the pads of your fingers along the expanse of muscle, leaving goosebumps in your wake. And there it was, Simon's little Ghost—"'Far from little, love."—standing at attention. Good.
"Maybe I will get you that drink," you pressed a kiss to the underside of his dick and smirked as it twitched against your lips, "depending on how long can you hold your cum for me."
Simon raised a brow, interest piqued.
Challenge accepted.
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daddyricsdoll · 2 months
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Can I please have "Fuck I'll Make it Fit" with Daniel Ricciardo please?
1k ✭ Celebration
☆*🍯 ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆
“You think you can be quiet for me?” Daniel whispers in my ear from behind. Pushing my torso down further against the balcony. Forcing my ass to push out and exposed pussy on display from under my short skirt. He runs his two fingers between my folds before pushing them both inside of me. Pumping his fingers in an attempt to stretch me. “You’re already squeezing my fingers, fuck imagine my dick.” Daniel groans into my ear. Scissoring and then curling his fingers. Moans escaping my lips as he adds another. Daniel shoves two of his free fingers in my mouth in hopes of suppressing each unholy sound leaving my lips. Groaning and grunting in my ear. His front pressed against me, and bulge pushed against my ass.
“You see those people, all they have to do is look up and watch me fuck you with my fingers.” The risk of someone catching us in the middle of this act was somehow arousing. 
Allowing myself to wallow in the sensation of his fingers. Daniels brought me closer and closer, from the way his words left his mouth and how he thrusted in me, never losing his pattern of stroking my g-spot at every touch.
I bite Daniels fingers, falling into how he finds pain to be a pleasure. My pussy clenching as he groans, and I finally release. Sparks of pleasure shooting through my body. 
Daniel doesn’t wait a second to put his two fingers between his lips and start undoing his jeans. Moaning at the taste of me before having to help himself. Quickly pulling his jeans down his legs. The brunette then flapped the back of my skirt up, revealing me fully. One of his calloused hands slapping my ass before massaging it a little. Spreading me open so he can run his tip up and down my folds. Mixing his precum with my own slick before he starts pushing against my entrance.
“Fucking stubborn aren’t ya?” His fingers burn bruises into my hips while he holds me tightly as he forces his tip inside of me. “Fuck. I’ll make it fit.” Not going softly on my needy pussy, already pulsating around him. His cock creates a burning sensation as he finally gets a fraction of himself inside of me.
“Do you think you can take me all?” Daniel whispers to me, his voice almost a purr that blends with gravel. 
“Do you think I can?” My voice nearly a breath.
“Let's find out.” An abrupt, rough ram of Daniels hips takes away the last bit of oxygen I held. Fully making me lose any last fragment of composure I had. A scream caught in my throat as my mouth gaped open and deep pants substitute my voice. 
“Taking daddy’s cock like my good little whore.” His words have an undertone of vulnerability. Only expressing the way I felt. So vulnerable as he controlled all the power. Dominating my body to move at the pleasure of his dick and harsh hands. 
One of Daniel's arms sneaked up my arched back, grabbing onto my hair and creating a makeshift ponytail to force my head up. Seeing stars even in the daylight. 
Each of my hands held onto the edge of the balcony, trying to stabilise my body, but always getting denied when Daniel pounded into me so hard that my legs shook. Even some of the more basic things become a struggle. 
The delicacy of his cock being memorised by my pussy and hazy mind. Each thrust brings my intense climax closer. The knot in my stomach grows tighter and tighter, binding together even more until it becomes something I can’t withhold. 
My walls compress against Daniel's dick. Coming around the bottom of his shaft, and eliciting the most satisfying moans from his lips. My head being forced back even more as Daniel releases as well. His hold against my hips and hair, never been tighter. 
Coming inside of me and painting my walls with his cum. 
“Look,” Daniel guides my head down, eyes watching the familiar group of men that stare back at us. “they’re all hard watching the way your tight pussy fits me all in.”
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